Phoenix Club 07(7)
Dane shrugged his hand off with annoyance and tipped the bottle to his lips again, knuckles straining as he gripped the glass container fiercely.
“So anyway,” Ricky chimed. “Angel says he isn’t looking for a boyfriend. But I think he’s lying. So…” He glanced at the three men, eyes lingering briefly on Dane who refused to look at him. “I was thinking of maybe trying to talk him into going on a date with me.” He smiled. “Unless, of course, anyone here has dibs on him?” Again, his gaze settled on Dane.
“Cole and I pretty much keep each other busy.” Gabe smirked. “So…we don’t have an issue with it.” He glanced past Cole. “How about you, Dane? You got a problem with Ricky asking Angel for a date?”
With a stiff grunt, Dane stepped off the bar stool without looking at any of them. “I really don’t give a fuck what he does.”
When he walked away in an obvious huff, Ricky chuckled. “Fuck, he’s got it bad, doesn’t he?”
“To put it mildly.” Cole laughed low. He looked at Ricky. “By the way, he thinks you’re a slut.”
Ricky chuckled and grabbed up the beer Carl set before him. “I am.” He grinned and chugged the drink.
***
Wade and Axel were bad enough on their own, but things always got worse when Byrd showed up. He was a couple years older than Wade, and when he was around, he was the alpha. Even Wade listened to him. Angel wasn’t sure how they got hooked up with Byrd, or where he even came from really. Wade had just showed up one day with the man in tow, saying something about meeting him at the bar, and he was cool. That was about six years ago, right after Wade and Axel’s dad, Wayne, had died in a drunk driving accident.
For a brief moment, Angel had been sure things would get better after that. Wayne had been his and Maddy’s stepdad, and their sole provider when their mom had passed away when Maddy was eight and Angel was eleven. The man had no real use for them–but neither had their mother really. She had met Wayne when he’d come by to buy some crack from her and Gary, Angel and Maddy’s real father. Angel vaguely remembered him, and didn’t care for the memories he did retain. The man had been weasely and sometimes looked at Angel in ways that had scared him. But Wayne had run him off when he’d decided he wanted to fuck their mom. Angel hated Wayne, but at least the guy had had no sexual interest in young boys.
Then when Wayne died, Angel was convinced he and Maddy would be taken into the custody of the state. Anything had to be better than where they were at. But Wade was almost twenty by then and the state seemed to have no qualms about leaving them in that home.
Angel glanced across at Maddy now. The boy lay on his back on his bed, headphones on and his old Walkman blasting as loud as it could go. Angel realized they were way behind the times. The only music Maddy had were some old cassettes and that Walkman that Angel had bought for a couple bucks at a second hand shop.
His eyes lingering on his little brother, Angel leaned his back against the bare wall. The bedroom was grungy, like the rest of the apartment. A couple mattresses on the hard, bare floor for beds. A pillow case stapled over the window for a curtain. And the constant stale stench of rats, seeping out of the large hole in the wall near the floor in the far corner of the small room. The skittering of the vile little creatures inside the walls never ceased, and at night Angel could hear them venturing out into the bedroom. But he was used to rats–both the rodent and human versions.
A sudden burst of raucous laughter erupted from the kitchen. Angel looked at the bedroom door. There were no locks. Not even a chair to wedge under the door handle. He could hear Byrd’s deep voice as he spoke much louder than necessary, as they always did when they started drinking. Angel hated it when he was here. He was the one who had planted the idea in Wade’s head that maybe his little brothers weren’t totally useless.
***
The empty beer bottle shattered in the sink. “This is fucking great.” Wade muttered and grabbed up a fresh bottle of beer then dropped into the hard kitchen chair. Empty cigarette packs and overflowing ashtrays littered the table, along with an array of empty beer cans and bottles. He snapped off the cap of the bottle and flicked it across the kitchen. “What the fuck are we supposed to do with these little shits?” He chugged the beer then wiped his mouth. “Raise them as our fucking own?”
Axel said nothing. He clearly knew better than to make remarks when Wade was pissed off.
Huddled on the worn sofa with Maddy, thirteen-year-old Angel hugged his little brother close and tried to keep his focus on the television screen, most of which was snow mottling the picture, but behind which cartoon characters went through their antics. Angel cast discreet glances at his stepbrothers and their new friend, Byrd, lounging at the kitchen table.