My Love, My Drug, My Release

Chapter 69: Some Guy

Lol, chapter 69. Enjoy!

I made myself screwdriver after screwdriver and Keith drank Paul's whiskey straight from the bottle while Jackson and Thelma sat in awkward, sober silence. Tolerating alcohol was never my strong suit, but I ignored my lightweight status, making each screwdriver stronger than the last. Five in, and I was sipping from a glass of 80% vodka with just a splash of orange juice.

"So, um, do you know why Paul and Linda decided to split all of a sudden?" my brother asked.

I hesitated, contemplating telling him. I'd spent so long keeping my stepdad's secret, it would feel incredible to let it all out, stop protecting him and start protecting myself. Maybe Jack would even beat up Paul the way he beat up Mr. Grant.

But in the end, I couldn't follow through on my dark fantasies, merely shrugging. "It surprised me as much as you."

"Good riddance," he mumbled. 

"If you hate them so much, why'd you come back?" Keith asked.

Jack looked up at the guitarist (he was sprawled on the couch, boots kicked off, while the rest of us sat on the floor), thick brows pinched together. Clearly, he didn't know what to make of this twenty-six-year-old hanging around with his little sister.

"For Lo, obviously. As soon as I turned eighteen, I had to come back for her."

"Come back for her?" Keith asked. "You planning on taking her somewhere?"

"Hopefully to Australia with me." Jack paused, face blanching. "You won't tell Paul, right? If he knew, he'd stick Lo somewhere under lock and key and I'd never get to her."

Keith made a lip-zipping gesture, tossing the invisible key behind the couch, flashing my brother a wink. "But the real question is, does Lo want to go back with you?"

My brother glanced over at me, but I kept my eyes in my glass, my face reflected back to me in shades of orange. My newly cropped hair kept falling in front of my eyes, and each time it surprised me. I tucked the dark locks behind my ear with clumsy, drunken fingers. 

"Well, Lo?" Jack asked uneasily.

"I- I don't know."

"What the fuck?" He stood, fists clenched at his side. "Why wouldn't you- why the hell would you stay here with Paul and Linda after everything they've done?"

"Maybe," Keith drawled, sitting up on the sofa properly, "she doesn't want to live with a guy who flies off the handle every time he doesn't get his way."

"I'm not some guy; I'm her brother. You, on the other hand, are just some guy."

The musician stretched like an alleycat, smirking. "I'm Keith fucking Richards, baby."

"And what does Keith fucking Richards want with a teenager?" Thelma asked coldly.

"Just looking out for a groovy gal."

Jack got up in the guitarist's face, jaw twitching. "Well, she doesn't need you to look out for her anymore; she has family, a proper family."

Keith blinked twice, and then chuckled, revealing his crooked bottom teeth, pressing the almost empty whiskey bottle into Jack's chest, the glass connecting with my brother's body hard enough to make a soft thumping sound, but the eighteen-year-old didn't even flinch. 

"Glad to hear it, buddy-boy. She needs a stable presence in her life." He sniffed, pinching the tip of his nose. "I should be heading out anyway; Anita will be wondering where I am." Looking over at me, he flicked his head towards the door. "See me out, Lola?"