Tonic

by Staci Hart

  Emotion rolled through me, taking me over, needing out of the immediate situation. I stood, leaving the clipboard in the chair as I reached for his hand, not caring who saw, swallowing tears as I dragged him out of the shop and up the stairs, through his door.

  I slipped into his arms when the door was closed, his shirt fisted in my hands, my head tucked under his chin, and he held me, rocking me silently in the dark. I was thankful for the cloak of night, hiding my face that broke with my heart.

  I could tell him right then. It would be so simple — I could tell him everything, throw it all away. Because after the argument with Laney, after everything, I would throw my career away if I told him. Laney would fire me, and she’d be right to do it. Maybe Joel didn’t really know what he signed up for, but I did.

  The woman I’d been a few weeks ago was gone. He’d done what he set out to do — melted that façade I’d so carefully crafted when I was at work, the one that kept me separate, unaffected by the demands of my job. It was gone, and now … now I had to rebuild it, brick by brick.

  The one thing I didn’t deserve — Joel’s comfort — was the only thing holding me together. I would betray him because that was what I had to do. I’d talk to him afterward, beg him to understand. But if he didn’t, if he couldn’t forgive me, then this was it. And of what I knew of Joel, he would never forgive me for lying to him, about anything. And as hard as I’d tried to fight it, I’d have to manipulate him after all.

  This was the last time I’d be in his arms. This was the only chance I would have to say goodbye. And I wanted to say goodbye. I needed to.

  “I need you,” I whispered. “I don’t want to talk. I just want you.”

  His lips never spoke, but his hands told me everything. He would give me anything I wanted, if I were true, if I were real. But I wasn’t. I was a liar. Cruel. And I’d fallen in love with a man I couldn’t protect from myself.

  He kissed me with all the fire in him, as if he could burn away my pain. He undressed me with care, with strong, tender hands, laying me down in the dark as tears slipped out of my eyes and into my ears. He didn’t know, he didn’t see, only did what I had asked. I needed him, and he gave himself to me.

  I memorized every moment, every touch. His body against mine. The caress of his hand on the curve of my breast. His lips as they tried to kiss away the bad. The heat of him as he slipped into me, filling my body, my heart, splitting it in two. And I said goodbye. I kissed him knowing it was the end, and when he felt it, when he knew, he grew frantic.

  His lips crushed mine, telling me not to go. He slammed into me, claiming me for his. And I opened myself to him, giving him all of me. Because I’d walk away from all of this his. I had no choice in the matter.

  When our bodies were spent, he held my face, fingers finding the tears, and I looked into his eyes, the one thing I could see as they reflected the only light in the room.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice heavy with tears.

  “Don’t,” he begged.

  I turned my face, pressing a trembling kiss into his palm. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. The words spun through my mind like starlings. I shifted to try to leave, but I was pinned by his body, and he didn’t budge.

  “Annika,” the word broke in his throat, broke in my heart, and when I moved again, he let me go.

  I gathered my clothes, trying not to sniffle as I dressed. And when I turned to where he lay on the bed, I took a heavy, shuddering breath and said the only thing I could.

  “No matter what happens, this was real.”

  And then I turned and hurried out of his apartment, leaving my heart with him where it belonged.

  PULL THE TRIGGER

  Joel

  I DIDN’T SLEEP.

  THE SECOND she walked away, I pulled on pants and followed, but she was gone, climbing into her car as I bolted through the building door. I’d called. I’d texted. And I’d gotten nothing but silence in return.

  By the time I walked into the shop the next morning, I was crawling out of my skin. Dark shadows ringed bloodshot eyes, my jaw aching from the pressure of squeezing it as I stared at my ceiling all night, wondering what was happening.

  Whatever happens, this was real.

  The words haunted me, followed me through the night and into the day. I knew from the way she said goodbye to me with every kiss that it was over. I just didn’t know why, and I hoped to God it didn’t have to do with the show, with the lie I’d given her. But it felt inevitable, like an approaching storm, and I stood out in the wind, waiting for it, exposed.

  Shep showed up just after me, his face falling when he saw me sitting behind the counter.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked when he was close enough not to be overheard. Because everyone was there, milling around their stations, crew all over the place.

  “Have you heard any gossip about the show? Annika? Anything?”

  His brow dropped. “No. Why?”

  I scrubbed a hand across my face, feeling old, used. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  Shep opened his mouth to ask a question just as the door chimed and she walked in.

  She didn’t seem to have fared much better than me, though the half-moons of shadow under her eyes were lighter than mine, covered up with makeup, her dark lashes making her eyes shine like the cobalt in the center of a flame, where the fire burned the hottest. Just seeing her sucked all the air out of my lungs.

  Annika kept moving, her eyes on mine before she broke the contact with the cut of her eyes toward my brother.

  “Shep, can I have a word?” she asked as if I wasn’t there.

  His eyes were narrowed as he looked from her, back to me, back to her. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Thank you,” she said, all business as she walked toward the office, and he followed, tense and unsure.

  My heart hammered against my ribs until they ached, and I sat behind the counter with my numb hands on the surface and eyes on the door. Cameramen had set up, red lights on. They were already filming.

  Something was happening.

  I felt like a pawn, like a piece in a game, without will, without a choice. A puppet. A tool.

  When the door opened, Shep walked out first, his eyes connecting with mine like he was trying to tell me what had transpired. Annika didn’t look at me, just took a seat in her chair and picked up her clipboard, crossing her long legs. And just as my brother approached, she met my eyes with a flash of pain.

  Shep’s jaw was set, his eyes darting to the cameras. He didn’t want them there when he detonated whatever bomb Annika had set for us, the trap she’d laid.

  He pulled in a breath through his nose and let it out as he leaned on the counter across from me, and a cameraman took his place to our side, catching the profile of two brothers. My pulse raced.

  “Tell me,” I said simply.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Hal got his own show.”

  My nostrils flared at the shock of his words. “He what?”

  “He pitched his idea for a show to another network, and they signed him.”

  My breath froze in my lungs, and the burn spread across my ribs as I realized what that meant.

  It was all for nothing.

  The show. The sacrifice of my privacy, my shop, my family. The sacrifice of my heart. All for nothing.

  I barely noticed the cameras around me, filming every breath as I tried to keep still, but anger pitched and rolled through me.

  Shep’s jaw was set, lips flat. “Not just that, but Hal and Liz are the frontrunners for the show, which means—”

  “They’re going to talk about me.” There I was, trying to protect Liz, protect our past, but she wouldn’t hold back, and neither would Hal. My life, laid bare for the world, and I had even less control on that fact than I had before.

  “Fuck,” I breathed as my mind raced. I tried to keep my composure as I sorted through it all. Shep knew, and Annika told him.

  Annika. She knew. And she kep
t it from me.

  “Did you just find out?”

  He nodded. “Just now.”

  I pushed back from the counter and stood, my eyes locked on Annika. “And when did you find out?”

  She froze, eyes widening a fraction. She looked like a statue, a beautiful doll, made of ice and stone. Unbreakable. She didn’t speak.

  I stepped closer, the cameras following me. “Answer me,” I growled.

  “Yesterday morning.” Her voice was quiet, calm. I snatched her clipboard out of her hands and threw it.

  Everyone jumped at the noise of it clanging to the ground.

  “You kept it from me.”

  Her cheeks were pink, her eyes hard. “This is my job. I had to.”

  “The hell you did, Annika. The hell you did,” I roared. “You lied to me. You lied.”

  She stood tall, her chin up defiantly. “What was I supposed to do, Joel? You knew walking into this what I’d have to do, didn’t you? You told me to do what I had to do, so I did.”

  “What, so this was all just to push my buttons?” Fury boiled through me. “You waited to tell me so you could film it? You fucking knew I would flip my shit, so you waited. You waited and you ignored me all day, then came over and fucked me to make yourself feel better. Well, do you? Do you fucking feel better, Annika?”

  She sucked in a breath like I’d hit her, and my lip curled.

  “You want me to wreck shit?” I screamed and reached for anything I could. My hands closed around a camera — I ripped it from its owner and threw it as hard as I could to a chorus of gasps as it slid across the floor. “Is this what you want?” I grabbed her chair and flung it, sending people scattering. “You wanted a show? Well, here you fucking go.” I threw my hands up, face steaming.

  I stepped closer, invading her space, arching over her. “You didn’t even care, did you? Were you using me this whole time? Did you just fuck me to get what you wanted out of me? To get me to do what you wanted? Or is this how you’ve always gotten your way?”

  Her eyes shone with angry tears, her jaw set and lips pinched as she pulled back and slapped me as hard as she could. I saw it coming a mile away and let her, felt the sting of it, the sharp pain fortifying me to withstand the damage she’d done.

  “Fuck you, Joel. Fuck you, and fuck off. Get out.”

  “You can’t kick me out of my own fucking shop, you lying bitch.” I hated every word as it left my mouth. I hated every heartbeat as it burned in my chest. I hated her for what she’d done. I hated myself for believing her.

  “I can, and I will. Shep, get him out of here. Now.” Her voice shook only once, betraying her, as Shep stepped between us and tried to move me toward the door. “These were your rules, Joel. You told me it could be easy. You told me to do my job. Your rules. Not mine.”

  I shook Shep off and pushed him out of my way so there was nothing between her and I but air. “Yeah, well I was fucking lying, and you knew it. You knew it,” I yelled, pointing at her. “You knew it, and you let it happen anyway. I don’t even give a fuck about Hal or the show or any of this,” I said with a wave of my hand. “It was you, Annika. All I wanted was you.” The words broke in my throat, and I turned for the door, anger and emotion burning through my chest, pricking the backs of my eyes as I tried not to think about the sight of her standing there, looking just as betrayed as I felt.

  PINK MIST

  Joel

  I DIDN’T KNOW WHERE TO go.

  I stood on the sidewalk for a split second of indecision. Part of me wanted to run, find something to break, to punish. Part of me wanted to hide.

  All of me saw red.

  I turned for the door to the building just as Shep burst through the door of the shop behind me. I think he called my name, but I couldn’t be sure, the blood rushing in my ears so loud, it was all I could hear.

  Upstairs I went with my brother in my wake, stairs falling behind me two at a time, throwing my door open. My apartment, my home, tainted by her. Stacks of ledgers stood on the table still, and I roared, sweeping them from the surface with a single motion. She was everywhere, the smell of her assaulting me as I entered my room, and I grabbed my blankets, flinging them behind me, fisting the sheets in my hands, ripping them off the bed with enough force to set the mattress askew. I didn’t care. She’d ruined them. She’d ruined everything.

  My name again, a hand on my shoulder, and I swung blindly, knowing it was Shep, blaming him for all of it. For the cursed show. For trying to stop me from expending my rage. For letting me fall for her.

  My fist connected with his jaw, his spittle slinging across my face with an oof, but he rebounded with a swing of his own, his meaty fist connecting in almost exactly the same place where I’d hit him. I spun around, catching myself on the bare mattress, chest heaving.

  “Calm the fuck down, Joel,” he growled, and my shoulders sagged, face throbbing, eyes pinched shut as stars danced in my vision. Zvezda moya. My star. But she’d never been mine. It was all a lie.

  Another roar climbed up my throat, past my lips as I flipped my mattress, sending a lamp crashing to the ground and porcelain and glass skittering across the hardwood.

  “That’s enough,” Shep screamed, shoving me into the box spring. “Get a fucking grip! Now.”

  I looked through my fury over my shoulder at my brother looming over me, ready to put me down if I got up again, I knew. So I didn’t. I turned and sank to the ground, elbows on my knees, head cradled in my hands, breath sandpaper in my lungs, scratching and burning me raw from the inside.

  He paced the length of my room, then back, not speaking. Then again as I sat on the floor, broken and used up. Shep was trying to solve the problem, the massive, looming problem we’d created. The problem I’d created. But I’d lost all ability to consider that. All I could think about was her.

  Lies. Betrayal. Destruction. I’d given her my trust, the one thing I held above anything, and she’d broken it. And that break had turned me into a monster I hadn’t seen in a long time.

  Annika and I weren’t so different than Liz and I had been. Fighting. Fucking. Burning each other down. Turning ourselves into ash. And I’d been stupid enough to think she was different.

  This was why I was alone. And I couldn’t just blame Annika — I was hell-bent on destroying myself, with or without her help. It wasn’t a phase or a fluke. It was a pattern, one I was destined to repeat.

  “I can’t go back down there,” I croaked, my throat raw.

  “No, you can’t. You’re not going anywhere unless it’s out of this building and miles away.”

  “I’m not leaving. She can fucking leave.”

  “You know she’s not going anywhere.”

  I didn’t respond.

  More pacing. I opened my eyes, staring at the wooden floor between my knees, my eyes hanging on a knot in the wood, the grain sweeping around it like water past an immovable stone.

  A sigh from Shep. “I’ve got to go back down there at some point.”

  “Go.”

  He huffed like a bull, and I reached for a shoe next to my bed, finally lifting my head to pitch it at him as hard as I could.

  “Get the fuck out.”

  He dodged it, fuming. “I don’t want to leave you here like this.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing she can do. It’s already done, so leave me the fuck alone. I’m not a fucking child.”

  Shep’s jaw flexed, and he motioned to my tossed room. “Sure, real grown up, Joel.” He jabbed a finger at me. “Don’t you fucking leave this apartment, or I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

  He would. I knew it. “Fine, I already fucking told you I’m not leaving, so get the fuck out already,” I yelled.

  He squared his shoulders, pinning me with a hard look before he turned and walked away, slamming the door behind him. And I dropped my head into my hands once more as I counted my mistakes, every single one.

  BOTTOMS UP

  Annika

  I COULDN
’T BREATHE. I COULDN’T run. And I couldn’t follow him.

  I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t stay.

  But I had no choice.

  A sob fought its way up my throat, but I coughed instead, then swallowed hard, turning to the cast and crew. Every pair of eyes seared me, accusing and disgusted. So I did all I could do.

  I turned to my director of photography. “Did you get that?”

  He nodded and looked away.

  “Good. Take it upstairs. Thirty-minute break and we’re picking it back up in the green room. Mark, you have the schedule for one-on-ones, right?”

  A perfunctory nod.

  “Let everyone know when they’re needed upstairs.”

  The room was silent. Patrick stepped forward, fuming. “You can’t actually expect us to do this. Not after that.” He motioned to the door of the shop. Toward Joel.

  My heart ached, but my voice was cold and sharp. “I can and I do. This is exactly when I need to speak to each and every one of you privately. And the contracts you signed bind you to being there.”

  I couldn’t say anything else or I’d break. So I turned on my heel and walked out, feeling all of their eyes on me, hearing the murmur of questions and speculation as the door closed, shutting them out. Up the stairs I flew, swallowing, swallowing, swallowing again, but I couldn’t keep my emotion down as it climbed up my throat. When I reached his landing, a roar and a crash came from behind his door, and I jumped, pausing, heart frozen. But I couldn’t stop. There was nothing I could do. I’d already done enough.

  The final flight was the longest, my legs shaking, brain scrambling for a place where I could be alone. The control room was full of editors who glanced up at me when I entered, with questions in their eyes, not knowing what had happened. Laney sat at her desk, her face full of awareness when she looked up, but I couldn’t deal with her. Not yet. So I ducked into the green room, finding it empty. I closed the door behind me, bracing my body against it as I closed my eyes, forcing the tears down my cheeks.