Rock Star Returns: Carlie's Story (Access All Areas, #2)
Page 16
Gina is far too young and I’m far too old and crotchety. I’m not even a whole man any more, just a shadow. A ghost. There was a real me once, passionate and fiery, a man who had something to live for. Gina brings some of that fire back to my insides. She looks at me and makes me think that maybe that dream I murdered, the one that is buried in an unmarked grave, could be resurrected. But what would that be? A zombie of a dream?
All I can do is down another glass of whiskey and try to get her to see that I’m not worth her efforts. I try, oh how I try, but when she’s around, I only want her to see the best of me. I wish deep down in my soul that I could be a better person, one who deserves her, but I see no way for that to happen.
Gina still hasn’t come into the bar. She’s late or, maybe, she’s come to the realization she’s wasting her time with me. That would save me the pain of making her see that.
She’d been angling for something lately. Something more than just friends. I saw it in her eyes and the way she moved her mouth. I had to go beyond just ignoring it. I had to kill this thing completely. It’ll hurt her for a while, but it’ll destroy the only bit of humanity I have left inside. Like punching a puppy in the face or mugging an old lady. I’ll hate myself for what I do to her but, in the long run, that will be far better than seeing that look of adoration slowly turn to disgust. I need to crush any hope she has growing in her heart. That’s the best thing for her. Otherwise, I’d just end up destroying her as surely as I was destroying myself.
“So, Jackson, now you’ve had time to think about it, I’m sure you’ll agree that teaching me guitar is a very fine idea indeed.”
Drew stood beside me with a dishrag in his hand and a pleading look on his face.
“Why do you even want to learn guitar? Surely the miserable bunch of bastards hanging out in this bar would be enough to turn you off the idea for life.”
Drew screwed up his face in thought. He might be thinking about that for a while.
“But sometimes I have songs and they’re inside me, just playing around, and I need to get them out.”
The poor little bugger was screwed. If he’d said he wanted to do it to pick up chicks or look cool or one of a thousand other reasons, there’d be some hope for him. He’d learn a few chords, fool around with the idea of making it big one day, and then move onto something else, but he had the worst reason of them all. The one that takes root inside you and never leaves. The one that is stronger than love or booze or life itself.
I banged my glass down on the bar. “Enough. I don’t want to hear any more about it. Ever. Give up, Drew.”
Poor Drew. His face dropped. I hated to be a bastard to him but he’d nag me forever if he saw any sign of weakness.
Without thinking, I picked my glass back up with my left hand. Sometimes I forgot. The glass slipped through my fingers because I couldn’t grip it tight. My brain sent the message but the fingers didn’t hear it. They’re closed off to the rest of my body, useless sausages. I grabbed a cloth off Drew and mopped up the mess. He didn’t say a word. He never does. For someone as mouthy as he is, he does know when it’s best to say nothing.
When Gina comes into the bar tonight, after putting my plan into action, I’ll disappear for a while. I’ll miss the bar. It’s been a home to me and a comfort but it’s the only way I can see to fix this. I’ll come back in a few months and, when Gina walks in with a new man, I’ll swallow my sorrow with my whiskey, in one big gulp. I’ll keep my gaze on my glass, not following her around the room. It’ll taste bitter but that bitterness will just blend in with the rest of it inside me.
I don’t want to be cruel and I don’t want to hurt her but, it’d be a crueler man to lead her on. I order another drink. I can’t be sober for this.
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