I've Got Your Number

Ten

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Drake gulped down his nth bottle of beer, making the nearby ladies swoon as his Adam’s apple sexily bobbed up and down his throat. He slammed the empty bottle on the table and reached for the next one. Before his hand could reach it, another hand snatched it away. Suddenly, his beer was being gulped down by some other asshole. An asshole that wasn’t him. He was about to land a punch on the sucker’s face when he locked eyes with the familiar grey eyes.

“Ah, you came.”

Keal gulped down the remains of the beer and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Of course I came, you bastard.”

Drake grinned. “So we’re gonna talk trash tonight, huh? Be my guest.” He signaled to the bartender, and five more bottles were added in front of them.

“How many have you had tonight?” Keal asked as he hopped into the stool next to Drake. He grabbed for another beer, Drake quickly draining his own. Daym, this guy could drink.

“Five.. Ten.. Fifteen.. Twenty..” He bobbed his bronze head from side to side.

“Fuck, you’re wasted.” Keal swallowed the remnants of his own drink and reached for another. It had been like this the past few years. None would talk unless they were skunk drunk. What an odd turn in their relationship.

“Thanks for stating the obvious, pal.” Drake grabbed another drink. This was, what? His third one since Keal arrived? “So I’ll get straight down to business..”

Keal slammed the bottle on the counter. “He kissed her.”

“What?” Drake turned his pretty drunk head towards Keal.

Keal cracked his knuckles. “I saw them. Mikhail kissed Mitch.”

Drake opened his mouth to speak. Closed it. Opened it again. He ruffled his hair like a madman. “Think I care?”

“I know you do,” Keal took a cautious sip.

“Fuck you. You don’t know anything,” another swig.

“I know more than you give me credit for,” another bottle.

“That little bitch means nothing to me –” 

That was it. Bottles scattered, glasses broke, and several heads turned. Keal grabbed Drake by his shirt collar. If there was anything he hated, it was named calling. Drake’s face was temporarily filled with shocked, then his eyes taunted Keal. Pissed, Keal punched him hard. The bartender immediately locked eyes with the nearest bouncer.

“Don’t screw with me, Drake,” He towered over him. “You still love her!”

Drake spit out the blood and looked up at Keal from the floor. “If I do love her, why would I break her? She means nothing to me. Just another little harlot who fell under my spell.”

Keal aimed another punch towards Drake. The angels did not want another scratch on Drake’s face and had the bouncers pulling Keal away from him. Keal struggled in their arms as they pushed through the crowd and dragged him out the building. Drake grimaced at the sight.

The bartender looked at Drake as he stood up. “You’re gonna have to go, too.”

Drake raised up a hand in mock surrender. He paid, took the remaining bottle, and staggered his way out the club, hungry eyes measuring him up and down.

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“Damn. You didn’t have to make a scene.” Drake wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Throwing the empty bottle on the stairs. It rolled down, glass crashing as it fell.

Keal was sitting on the steps to the club. Two additional guards stood on the doors and stared him down.

“You deserved it, you retard.”

Drake walked down the steps, his head hurting. Keal followed him down. 

“I need more beer. You ruined the night for me, you asshole.” 

“You have a game tomorrow and you decided to get skunk drunk. Why?”

Drake stopped and turned to glare at Keal. “You’re not gonna be dramatic now, are you? If you think I’m gonna spill my guts on you, you need therapy.”

“Not as much as you need it,” Keal mumbled. He didn’t want to hit Drake again. “But.. why?”

They were out on the main road now. A few taxis lined up on the streets, the drivers out having coffee, smoking. Drake found a good rock to sit on and ducked his head between his knees. If he had a hangover tomorrow, he’s screwed.

“Why what, Keal?”

“Why..?” Why indeed. Keal racked his brain. He didn’t know where to start. “Why did you.. hurt her like that? I saw you through the years, she was the only one you ever loved. I saw how you looked at her, I remember you vowed to marry her. And then.. why? You still love her. You hate Mikhail even more because of the possibility that..” he stopped. “Why are you making yourself an ass, Drake? You’ve become the villain in your own fairytale.”

“And..?”

“Tell me why.”

Drake chuckled, a sad, dark one. His head still tucked between his knees, he said the words he never dared mentioned to anyone. It was this revelation that turned his life into a maddening horror story.

“Michi.. she’s my sister.”

Everything came at slow motion. Everything disappeared. Keal felt the blood go cold inside him. What?

“Her father fucked my mother. My father didn’t want any trouble and claimed me as his own. What could I do?” Drake stood up. “You happy now?”

It’s been years. Drake was his best friend. He still is. But the constant fights and disagreements pushed Keal to leave the team. One thing that made him despise Drake was the way the screwed up with Michi. He never understood why. Drake never explained why. 

But on that day Drake stood outside his father’s office, he knew nothing would ever be the same anymore. He carried this curse until he finally confessed to Keal. And it wasn’t until Drake’s confession that Keal realized, Drake had to break away from Michi. She would fight, he could not. The only way to get her away was to be the ass that he is now. But the method was stupid and childish. But then.. He was a child then.

Drake never looked him in the eye once. Yes, he still loved her.