branded (phantoms mc #2)

fifteen: in which she eats a giant slice of humble pie

"Fly... Feel your mother at your side " -Glass Animals, Youth

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Between handling Eve, dealing with Camila, and making sure that Leo went to school, I was beyond stretched thin.

There wasn't enough Pussy to go around, and, as drunk as I was, I could actually laugh out loud at the double entendre. Rock bottom was me hanging around in the Phantoms' clubhouse while Ghost was fucking some girl in another room.

Life was funny, wasn't it? One minute, you think you don't give a shit, and the next, you give a shit-ton of fucks that the guy who'd been mooning after you since childhood was starting to move on. It was time to eat my humble pie and ask for seconds.

My humble pie just happened to be beer. Everyone knew that if you wanted the best alcohol, the kitchen was the best place to be. I squeezed my way past a bunch of prospects, who probably weren't even of legal age yet, and pulled open the crowded fridge, taking out another beer. I'd lost count of what number I was on, but I didn't care.

"Pussy!" Bree squealed in my ear, coming out of nowhere.

I had no clue how she'd found me when the place was practically packed from floor to ceiling, but I cursed my luck in my head.

"Hey, Bree." I rubbed my ear, pretty sure that the ringing wouldn't stop until the next day. "What's up?"

She was clearly further gone than I was. Her hair, which was a strange shade of red that matched her lipstick, looked like she'd stuck her head out of a moving car. She had what looked like a red-wine stain on the front of her yellow summer dress.

"Somebody should cut you off," I muttered, to which she giggled.

"This isn't a bar, Pussy." She playfully slapped my shoulder with a sticky hand. "Anyway, you looked kind of lonely standing over here by yourself. I heard you and Ghost broke up. I am so sorry."

I frowned at her. "Nope. I am not having a heart to heart with Bree Mason in the Phantoms' clubhouse." That would be rock bottom.

I pushed past her and took a gulp of my beer. I didn't know why I'd come—scratch that, I knew exactly why I'd come here. Any place was better than mine, which currently housed my off-the-rails best friend and cold sister. Admittedly, Camila had warmed up after our visit with Maya and her kids, and she'd actually agreed to enroll Leo in the same kindergarten, but we weren't quite there yet as far as being sisterly. Eve, on the other hand, had turned into a vacant shell overnight. She wouldn't leave her bed, let alone her room. Cam and I had to take turns to feed her, and for some odd reason, taking care of someone else seemed to be therapeutic for her.

But was therapeutic for me? Sex and booze.

None of the men in this house would touch me with a ten-foot pole, let alone their dicks, so booze was all I had.

I lifted my bottle in acknowledgment of the Phantom sitting on the couch and staring at me with wide eyes. He stood up and approached me.

"P, babe," Ripper began, "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm not supposed to be here?" I countered, knowing that that was a distinct possibility. It had been a slow night at The Wreck, as most Tuesdays were, and I'd overheard a couple Phantoms talking about getting together at the clubhouse. So maybe I gatecrashed.

Ripper rolled his eyes at me. "You know what I mean. Ghost and I talk."

"I'm very aware that you two talk," I mumbled. "He's with a girl, isn't he?"