Shame on You

Any second now…


“No, there must be some confusion. That’s my daughter and she’s not a stripper,” my dad tells them with a stern look as they start asking him questions about his “stripper partners.”

I sigh in relief that this will all be over soon and we can get the hell out of here.

“No, I’m serious. She’s not a stripper. She’s a hooker.”

“Oh dear God,” I mutter as they push my dad into the chair Griffin recently vacated and one woman straddles his lap.

I can’t look. This is just…Oh my God…I’m going to puke.

“Griffin! Do something!” I scold him as I point angrily in my dad’s direction while he looks up happily at the woman giving him a lap dance.

“Hey, Buddy! You need some help over there?” Griffin yells across the room to my dad.

“Nope. I got it under control. You two run along now. Go do some talking or something. Or better yet, go bust Kennedy’s back door and pay her for it so she gets in a better mood,” he yells back.

Griffin salutes my dad with a chuckle, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of the room. The door closes behind us just as a cheer erupts from inside and I can only imagine what is currently being done to my father.

GD drunk bachelorettes.





CHAPTER 17




All I know is, he didn’t come home until three in the morning and he fell asleep with a huge-ass grin on his face. And I’m pretty sure I saw stripper glitter sparkling in his hair when the light hit it. What the hell happened?” my brother Bobby asks Ted as he loads a round of bullets into his service pistol and takes aim at the paper target ten yards away.

I walk up behind them at the tail end of their conversation and try not to think about what could have put such a big smile on my dad’s face the previous night after Griffin and I left the hotel.

Every week since Bobby moved back in with my dad, the three of us meet at the indoor shooting range and throw out career ideas to him. It looks like this week Bobby’s future is not going to be the main topic of discussion.

I clear my throat softly behind them so as not to startle them—never a good idea with people holding loaded weapons. Ted turns around, puts his gun on the ledge, and immediately wraps his arm around my neck and tugs me into a headlock, rubbing his knuckles against my scalp.

“What up, sis? Ready to get your ass kicked today?” Ted says with a laugh as I punch my fists into his side until he finally lets me go.

“Jesus, Ted, grow up,” I complain as I stand back up and rub my sore head. We both stand silently in the lane at the indoor shooting range and watch Bobby fire off a few rounds, all but two hitting the center target.

“So, what’s new with you? Aside from the fact that you’re now a prostitute and Dad has decided to open a strip club?” Bobby asks as he steps back out of the lane and gestures for Ted to go next.

“Funny,” I tell him with a smack to his upper arm. “I’m still trying to catch this fucking bail jumper while attempting NOT to strangle Griffin in the process.”

Ted takes aim and unloads his clip into the target. Buddy laughs when half of them go wild and pierce the outer circle of the target.

“Son of a bitch! Something must be wrong with this gun. Here, you do something with it.” Ted steps back and I reach my hand out for it.

“Go easy on Griffin. He’s good people,” Ted tells me and I load the clip with more rounds.

With a roll of my eyes, I lift my arms up, take a deep breath, and begin firing when I exhale. All but one bullet hits the center target.

“Ooooh, I do believe that makes me the winner,” I gloat.

“I don’t understand how you always beat us when WE taught you how to shoot,” Buddy grumbles.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I got some information about your guy, McFadden,” Ted tells me as he pulls a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket.

Taking it from his hand and putting the gun down on the ledge, I scan the information.

“Back when he was a teenager, he got popped for marijuana possession. The file was sealed because he was a minor at the time, but luckily, I know people,” he informs me as Bobby steps up behind me and reads over my shoulder.

“He took the rap for some guy named Steven Lawson. They grew up together in the same neighborhood and were best friends,” Bobby reads aloud.

“We already got this information and looked into the name Steven Lawson to question him and there weren’t any hits on him. I questioned the friends of his I could find, but Steven Lawson didn’t have a current address listed and none of the old friends remembered that name. What does this have to do with anything now?” I ask Ted as I look up from the paper.

“You’re lucky I went on a date with one of the file clerks at the courthouse and completely blew her mind last week,” Ted tells us with an arrogant grin.

“Shut up and get to the point,” I warn him.