Everything Worth Fighting For

by Street, K.

  His response felt a little cold, which was ridiculous because it was a text message, so the only tone was due to my own inflection. Given the way we’d left things, he had every right to be upset with me. I only hoped that, after I laid everything out, we would find a way to get past it.

  Me: Yours?

  Nash: I’ll see you then.

  After one last check of my appearance in the bathroom mirror, I palmed my phone, grabbed my purse off my bed, and headed out the door to meet Camryn.

  When I arrived at the Pancake Palace, Camryn was already there, settled into a booth by a window, megawatt smile on her face and a glass of orange juice in her hand.

  “Hey, girl,” she greeted me. She set her juice down and slid out of the booth to give me a hug.

  I squeezed her back. “Hey. How are you?”

  We separated and took our seats across from each other.

  She was beautiful. Camryn sparkled with that pregnancy glow, and while I was so happy for her, Tucker, and Shayne … my own heart stung.

  “Great. The morning sickness has passed, and I can make dinner without being nauseous, so that is a huge plus. How are you?” She took a sip of her juice.

  Before I could answer, a pretty blonde waitress approached. “Good morning, y’all.” Her name tag read, Amanda, and she turned her attention to me. “What can I get you to drink?”

  I smiled at her. “Coffee. Black, please.”

  “Sure thing. Are you ready to order, or do you need a minute?”

  I hadn’t even opened the menu yet, so I said, “A few minutes would be great.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll be right back with that coffee.” She smiled and walked away.

  Camryn was practically bursting with excitement. “So, tell me everything. What’s going on with you and Nash? You two seemed pretty cozy when we ran into you last Sunday.”

  “There isn’t much to tell really.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. I opened my menu and perused the selections.

  “I don’t believe that for a second.” She laughed.

  Amanda returned with my coffee and carefully set it on the table in front of me. “Have you ladies decided what you’d like?”

  “I’m ready. Are you?” I asked Camryn.

  “I’ll have the Denver omelet with home fries and a side of fruit,” she said.

  Amanda wrote her order down and then glanced at me.

  “I’ll have the Greek egg-white omelet with fruit.” I shut the menu and waited for her to finish writing before handing it to her.

  “I’ll get those right in,” she promised. She took the menu Camryn held out and headed off to the kitchen.

  When the waitress was out of earshot, Camryn leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Have you two …” Her question trailed off, and she waggled her brows.

  I busted out laughing. “What are we, twelve?” The genuine smile on my face felt a little foreign after the last week.

  “Holy shit. You did.” Camryn slapped a hand over her mouth.

  My mind went to our night together. Nash’s hands on my body, the way he’d moved inside me. How it’d felt new and like coming home, all at the same time.

  “Does this mean you two are together?” Camryn asked, pulling me back to the present.

  I reached for two sugar packets and stirred them into my coffee as my smile slid off my face. “No.” I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “What? Why? You can talk to me; you know that.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that. There’s a lot of history between me and Nash. We have things we need to work out …” My voice trailed off.

  “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.” She gave my hand a squeeze, trying to reassure me.

  If only that were true.

  Desperate to change the subject, I asked, “Have you guys talked about baby names yet?”

  “We’ve been going back and forth. We can’t seem to find one we like well enough to stick.”

  Amanda returned with our food, and after she told us to holler if we needed anything, Camryn and I were left to our conversation.

  I moved my breakfast around my plate and listened to my friend go on and on about names and nursery themes. How excited Shayne was to be a big sister and the cute onesies she had found online. About tiny little socks and matching hats. Until it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  Camryn had no way of knowing that nearly every word that had passed her lips sliced me open.

  I was on the verge of losing the tight grip on my emotions.

  Leave. Now, my brain shouted at me.

  With trembling fingers, I reached into my wallet and tossed a twenty on the table. “I have to go.”

  Camryn’s fork halted midair. “Macy, you hardly touched your breakfast. Are you okay?”

  “Fine. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t seem fine.”

  I looked to my wrist for the nonexistent watch. “Sorry. I just remembered I have an appointment.” The lie came easily. “We’ll do a girls’ day soon. Manis and pedis. My treat.”

  Hurt and concern flashed on her face. “All right,” she acquiesced. “Call me later. And talk to Nash.”

  “I will,” I promised. I slid out of the booth and then bent to kiss Camryn on the cheek. “Talk soon.”

  I hurried to my car like I was on fire, started it, and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Without a destination in mind, I pulled onto the highway.

  Some people ran or went to the gym. Others buried their feelings in a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

  Not me.

  I drove. The long stretch of blacktop always centered me in a way nothing else did.

  Today though, it didn’t matter how fast I went or how many mile markers I passed. Escaping my own head and the onslaught of memories was like fighting a battle I couldn’t win.

  Fifty miles or so outside of Panama City, my occasional tears turned into a constant stream. The roadway in front of me blurred, and I had no choice but to pull over. I cried until I couldn’t. It felt like hours before I pulled myself together. When I did, I stopped for gas and made the long trek back to Jaxson Cove.

  It was past dark when I hit the city limit sign.

  I didn’t want to feel anymore.

  Or think.

  Or remember.

  I wanted to be numb.

  And I knew the one place I could make that happen.

  I whipped the car into the parking lot of The Hideaway, which was owned by my dad’s best friend, my uncle Mack.

  The music was loud, and the dance floor was crowded when I walked in. Mack’s daughter, Kelly, was behind the bar. She was almost four years younger than me. We had been pretty close once, but the age difference made it a little harder as we got older.

  I crossed the space and took a seat on an empty stool.

  Kelly held up a finger, indicating for me to wait a minute.

  When she finally came over to me, she practically yelled over the music, “Damn, girl. You look like hell.”

  She didn’t sugarcoat shit to spare anyone’s feelings, and I knew what she said was true.

  “Can I get a shot of Jack?”

  “Bad day?” She raised a brow in question.

  “Something like that.”

  She grabbed the bottle off the shelf, poured a generous shot, and set it in front of me. “Need anything else?”

  “Open a tab and keep them coming,” I told her, reaching into my purse for my phone.

  She nodded and went to the other end of the bar.

  Three missed calls. All from Nash. I set my phone on the bar top and gripped the shot glass. I stared into the amber liquid, gently swirling it as though it were a Magic 8-Ball with all the answers, except the one I needed. Why wasn’t exactly a yes or no question. It needed an explanation.

  I brought the whiskey to my lips and tossed it back. Warmth hit the back of my throat and traveled to my belly.

  The warmth meant I wasn’t numb, and that was what I wanted more than anything.

/>   My phone vibrated. I saw Nash’s name on the screen, and it made me feel even worse.

  I declined it just as Kelly set another shot in front of me.

  “What’s going on with you, girl?”

  I nodded my thanks and slammed the shot back. “Nothing. What makes you think something is going on?”

  “You mean, aside from the fact that you look like shit? Your eyelids are puffier than the lips of an Orange County housewife, and you’re slammin’ shots like an NBA star.”

  I shrugged.

  “Also, straight Jack isn’t really your style.”

  “Things change,” I said with a shrug.

  Someone hollered out a drink order, and Kelly held up a finger.

  Then, she turned her attention back on me. “Give me your keys.”

  “Stop being ridiculous. I’ve had two shots.”

  “And, from the looks of it, you’re going to need a few more. We’re practically family, and like it or not, I’m looking out for you.” She glared at me and held out her palm. “Now, quit being a stubborn ass and give me your keys.”

  “Fine.” I grabbed my bag and shoved it toward her. “Take the purse, too.”

  I watched her stash it behind the counter. She smiled as she put the third shot in front of me. “Pace yourself.” She set a large Mason jar filled with ice water next to the Jack. Then, she dumped some bar mix into a bowl and slapped the container alongside the whiskey. “And eat this.”

  Reaching into the bowl, I lifted out a pretzel twist, popped it into my mouth, and gave her an are you happy now look.

  She ignored me and went back to filling drink orders.

  I ate a few more pretzels and washed them down with the alcohol.

  Three shots in, and the numbness I’d been seeking was beginning to take hold.

  Kelly filled a mug with beer, and I watched as the foamy white head trickled over the side. “Ready for another one?”

  I held my finger up and told her, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to the ladies’.”

  I wobbled a bit as I got to my feet but righted myself and half-stumbled to the restroom. The line was five or so people deep, maybe more. I couldn’t tell, as they were starting to blur a little.

  After what seemed like forever, it was finally my turn.

  I took care of business and fumbled with the lock, trying in vain to get out. When I finally got the door open, it whacked me in the forehead and bounced back.

  “Damn it.” I rubbed between my brows.

  Then, I washed my hands and exited the restroom.

  It took more focus than it should have to climb up on the stool my ass had previously vacated.

  Kelly appeared in front of me. She eyed me like she was assessing my level of drunkenness. “You’re supposed to be pacing yourself. Maybe you should slow down a bit.”

  “And maybe you”—I lifted my hand and twirled a pointer finger at her—“should just pour my dranks.”

  My phone was screen-up on the bar top. I spun it in circles and felt my body sway with the motion.

  The phone suddenly stopped its merry-go-round movements.

  Thank God. That shit was making me dizzy.

  “Last one, Macy.” Kelly set the glass on the bar harder than necessary.

  The roar of emotions had died down to a dull ache, and one more shot practically guaranteed my reprieve.

  I raised the whiskey to my lips. Just as the liquid hit my tongue, the vessel that held my deliverance disappeared.

  I grabbed for the thieving hand that had stolen Jack from me and nearly toppled onto the concrete floor. “Give me that. I wasn’t done.”

  “Oh, you’re done.” The deep voice rumbled from behind me. “It’s time to go, Mace.”

  Even in my drunken state, there was no mistaking who it belonged to.

  “Nope. I want Jack back.” My hand flailed for the whiskey.

  Nash ignored me and gave the glass to Kelly. “She have a purse or anything?”

  “Yep. Let me grab it.” A few seconds later, she handed my bag over the bar. “Take care of her.”

  “I can take care of myselfff.”

  An arm slid around my waist, and I searched for the body it was attached to.

  “Thanks for answering, Kelly.”

  “What the hell, Kels? You answered my phone?” I tried to poke her in the nose but missed. “Rude.”

  “Let’s go, Macy,” Nash ordered.

  “Fine.” Grumbling, I slid off the stool.

  Nash held on to me, which was the only thing that kept me from face-planting when I stumbled.

  The room tilted and twirled. I felt my body being swooped into the air and cradled against a warm chest. The whiskey sloshed in my practically empty stomach as Nash carried me out of the bar.

  20

  Nash

  Fucking hell.

  I carried Macy through the crowd and out the doors of The Hideaway. The loud music dulled the closer we got to my car.

  My key fob dug into my clenched fist as I mashed the button to unlock the car. Bursts of yellowish light flashed in the darkness. I set Macy on her feet and slipped an arm around her waist while I opened the passenger side. It took some work, but I managed to get her inside and buckle her seat belt.

  The door slammed shut with a bang. My fists clenched as I walked around to the other side of the car. I knew better than to try to rationalize with her, but that didn’t stop me as I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “Is this why you didn’t show up tonight? Because you were too busy getting shit-faced?”

  Her head rolled to the side as she looked at me. “Yep.”

  “Are you fucking serious right now? How many shots did you have?”

  Macy held up her fingers. She tried to count off by tapping one index finger against the other, but she ended up slapping her leg instead. “Wait.” She tried again.

  “Damn it, Macy!” I fixed my eyes on the road and drove toward her house. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? The things that went through my fucking head?”

  It hadn’t been until she was forty-five minutes late that I started to panic. A dozen worst-case scenarios swarmed my brain, and with every call that went unanswered, my concern grew. When Kelly picked up, I was so damn relieved. Then, I’d walked into the bar and seen Macy with the shot glass poised at her lips, like she didn’t have a care in the world, and all I had seen was red.

  “I’m sorryyy,” she slurred.

  My gaze shifted from the road to her and back. I pulled the car into her driveway, put it in park, and killed the engine.

  Her purse was like a black hole as I rifled through it for her keys. The metal clanked together as I gripped them in my fist.

  I got out and went to Macy’s side. “We need to get you in the house.”

  She sagged against my body when I unfastened her seat belt.

  “It’sss okaaay. I can sleep right heeerrre.”

  She looked so damn vulnerable that my anger lost a bit of its edge. She was fine, and for now, that was all that mattered.

  Since I needed a free hand to unlock her front door, I lifted her over my shoulder.

  Once inside, I maneuvered us down the hall to her room, gently deposited her on the bed, and took off her shoes.

  “I’m sorryyy,” she apologized again.

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  “It’s no’ okaaay,” she slurred. “It’sss never gonna be okay ever again.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. You just need to sleep it off. I’m going to grab your pajamas.”

  I searched through her dresser and found an oversize T-shirt. Reaching for her arms, I pulled her forward. She might be conscious, but her limbs were limp as a fucking rag doll. I tugged her shirt over her head and tried to keep her from falling sideways while I removed her bra. I slipped her arms through the holes and glided the fabric over her bare tits.

  Then, I laid her back on the bed to slip off her jeans. Her feet hung over the e
dge of the mattress, and I crouched to tug off the tight dark denim.

  I gathered her into my arms and moved her to the pillows. My fingers smoothed the hair off her forehead. Whatever had driven her to lose herself tonight, I wanted to fix it. Absorb her hurt. Make it better.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Macy gave me a forlorn look. “Don’t leeeave.”

  “I’m just going to get you something to drink.”

  In the kitchen, I chugged a bottle of water and grabbed another one for Macy. Then, I went to scour the bathroom medicine cabinet for ibuprofen.

  The container rattled as I shook two pills into my hand.

  I need to buy stock in this shit.

  I placed the bottle back where I’d found it, went into the bedroom, and put everything on the bedside table closest to Macy before I stripped down to my boxers.

  I slid into bed opposite her.

  While I stroked her back, she snuggled into my chest.

  “Promise.”

  Confused, I asked, “Promise what?”

  “You aren’t gonna hate me,” she mumbled.

  “I could never hate you. Why would you think that?”

  Then, she muttered three words that made the world stop.

  “Be-cause of Lu-cas.”

  My hand froze.

  Lucas?

  Who the hell is Lucas?

  I hoped like hell I’d heard her wrong.

  “Who’s Lucas?”

  Her answer came in the form of soft snores.

  * * *

  I stared at the ceiling for hours as I tried to make sense of the name and came up empty.

  By the time the sun broke through the slats of the blinds, my eyes burned from lack of sleep, and I wanted answers.

  Macy groaned from beside me.

  I got out of bed and then turned back to face her. “We need to talk.”

  She grimaced and slowly raised a flattened palm, signaling me to stop. “I know. Just give me a minute.”

  Macy sat up and pressed her fingers into her temples, rubbing them in circles as I watched.

  “Not going to happen. I’m done waiting. Who the fuck is Lucas?”

  Time stood still as she lowered her hands to her lap. Her entire body appeared to move in slow motion as she angled toward me. It was a fucking eternity before her gaze met mine.