by Ace Gray
“And what’s worse is he’s not dead. He’s there, filling up all of Manhattan, with his savvy deals and perfect suits and dark gray eyes, and…and…I’m not sure he ever even gave a damn.” I took a ragged breath.
“Kate.” Laura turned to hug me, water pooling in her eyes. I kept right on talking, the words coming out like vomit now. Tears I hadn’t realized were falling, dripped onto my lips as I continued.
“The fact that I’m a disaster upsets me almost as much as being without him. Was I naive all along? Every heartbeat aches without him but then there’s this residual pain everywhere else from all the other bullshit. The secrets, the lies, the betrayal. There’s no reprieve, no relief. My heart isn’t broken, it’s not even there anymore.”
She tried to hold me, but I just didn’t feel like being coddled. I pulled away and went back to the table and the scotch. I pulled my knees up to my chest and started in on another glass. When she’d packed, she came out and shared a glass in silence with me.
“Want me to come with you to the airport?” I wouldn’t lose her over this.
“If you want fresh air, I’d love the company. If you’re just trying to be nice, it’s fine.”
She wiped away a small tear from her cheek. I’d finally impressed upon her how far gone I was. Hell, she probably knew, she just didn’t want to believe. When I thought of leaving the hotel my fingers automatically flexed into the chair, and I started chewing on the inside of my cheek.
“You should just stay.” Her eyes landed on mine as she wiped a tear from the opposite side. “I don’t want you to freak out.”
I was lost for words. I stood, again, wobbling a little bit, and moved around the table to throw my arms around her. I let out a deep breath. She patted my forearm and let her head roll back against my chest.
“Please eat, you’re boney.” She rolled her head around on my ribs and smirked the slightest bit. I managed to roll my eyes at her.
“When I’m feeling a little better I’ll start looking for a place. Once I find one, I’ll get my stuff out of your way. If you need to move any of it in the meantime, feel free. Try not to wear too much of my shit.” I glared at her as playfully as I could manage. I had a feeling my attempt looked mangled.
Laura hugged me tightly then stood to grab her bag. She snuck back at the last moment to kiss my cheek then slipped out the door. It shut unceremoniously behind her and, it was likely my imagination, but the sun seemed to finally give up fighting the Portland winter clouds the second she left. I went back to silence and scotch as the sky went back to dull and lifeless.
When the bottle was gone, I laid my head against the oak table to study the blurry label. At some point my eyelids drooped. I didn’t dream, finally, but I woke at the dining room table at dawn and felt worse than I had the night before.
Day twelve: Laura was right.
I was perched on the edge of an abyss, and I was going to have to fight to keep from falling in. I cried against the wooden table, this time from pure exhaustion. I didn’t know who I was anymore and I didn’t have the strength to figure it out. It was raining harder than usual, and I could hear raindrops pelt the windows. Once again, my stupid, shitty tears matched the stupid, shitty weather outside.
I fully acknowledged it was insane, but about an hour later, the twitchy urge to run consumed me. It was the first time I’d felt anything but desolation since I’d left him. It was the first time I wanted to run since the incident for that matter. The rain would drench me, and my new shoes would undoubtedly give me blisters, but I couldn’t just sit there anymore.
Mr. Barrett saw me as soon as I stepped off the elevator and into the lobby. He offered an umbrella first, then a taxi, and when I refused both, he couldn’t completely hide his look of concern.
Can’t blame you, Mr. Barrett.
I knew damn well I looked dreadful and was adding acting like an idiot to my repertoire.
For the briefest moment, the big, fat raindrops were rejuvenating, cleansing even. The second my clothes became nothing more than clingy fabric my mood disintegrated. My muscles stretched and protested as I continued weaving through the city anyway. Mercifully, the run to the river was downhill, I wouldn’t have made it otherwise. I felt disjointed and weak.
You are disjointed and weak.
As I cut across the small berm between sidewalk and river walkway, I slipped, my feet shooting straight out in front of me, and I tumbled hard onto the grass just before the railing. I lay there, covered in mud, staring unblinking up into the gloomy sky. My lashes bat against the rain as I played dead for a few minutes.
Oh good, I can add clumsy and stupid now too.
When I peeled myself up, I walked along the water for a little while, watching the droplets hit the river and ripples spread. I stopped, searching for the soft plink or rolling drum of a rainstorm, trying to find the calm it used to give me. There was no peace, just a downpour covering up my tear tracks.
I threw my hands up and grunted when I gave up on the entire outing.
My shoes squished as I trudged back up the bank, too tired to run anymore. I shuffled through the city, finding a dark and dingy dive bar during my wanderings. I reasoned it was a positive thing to want to stay out of the hotel, even if it was only to drink away the pain.
I fit in perfectly at the dirty bar with my muddy clothes and deeply circled eyes. I still tipped extra as an apology for the puddle slowly collecting underneath my stool. The bartender was kind and quiet, both traits I appreciated.
The outside world was warped from my seat near the window. Rain kept time in the puddles on the sidewalk. I just didn’t know if time was moving fast or slow. I found myself trying to count water ringlets in the nearest pool but I kept loosing track when they hit each other. Before I could get frustrated the tires of a massive bus spliced the water and drew my attention back up to street level. There was a small spark of emotion in my hollow chest when I recognized the tour bus attached to those tires.
The Roseland Theater was less than a block down the street and when I stood I could just see the band’s name on the marquee. Kevin was here. I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d shouted at me on the street corner in New York. I couldn’t blame him for keeping his distance.
Before I thought too long about it, I slammed my drink and slunk across the street to the open bus door. It wasn’t long before Eli, the guitarist, barreled down the stairs. When he saw me, he hesitated.
“Kate?” He stutter-stepped as he hustled to get into the building and out of the rain.
“Hey, Eli.” I sounded weird, off, as I stayed rooted in the deluge.
“Are you alright?” He set his case down, genuinely concerned.
“It’s a long story. Is Kevin around?”
“Of course. Come inside where it’s warm. I’ll find him.”
I lurched awkwardly into a tiny hallway backstage and hugged the exposed framework as different people passed by unloading the bus. The sheer volume of bodies flowing by had the narrow hall feeling claustrophobic. My chest was seizing when Kevin finally grabbed me by my arm. His grip pinched as he dragged me even though he wasn’t using much pressure.
“Ouch, you’re hurting me.” I sounded pathetic even to myself.
“What on Earth…” His voice trailed off when he turned to look at me in the gray daylight. “Jesus, Kate.”
This was a shit idea.
“It’s been a rough couple of weeks. What can I say?”
I’d thought seeing someone I knew, who I knew cared for me, would help me feel a little normal. Like seeing Laura had. But I should have stayed on that barstool.
“You look sick. No, worse then sick.” He reached out gently this time and took my hand with a whisper touch. There was the slightest bit of wariness in his eyes. “And you smell like whiskey.” Any hint of hesitation disappeared when he.
“Like I sai
d.” I shrugged.
He pulled me in close, hugging me gingerly.
“When Eli said you were here I was so confused. I was mad you had the audacity to just show up, but I was also excited to see you. Now I just feel miserable because you’re like this.”
I rested my head on his chest, thankful for some support. My legs weren’t really interested in holding up my body much longer. We sat like that, tucked just out of the rain, for a while. All the guys moved in and out around us, and I could tell Kevin was getting antsy, torn between helping them and holding tight to me. He finally broke.
“I have to help set up and sound check but I want to talk to you. Will you stay?”
Honestly, I had nowhere else to go and, for the moment, he was providing a distraction. I nodded into his chest and he relaxed.
“Do you want some dry clothes?” I shrugged my shoulders. I’d been in the wet stuff long enough now, what did it matter? “You’re going to get sick Kate.”
He looked concerned, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him it didn’t make a difference. He pulled me onto the bus and I took the sweats he offered and changed while he went back to unloading.
I towel dried my hair in the back room, casually looking through the stacks of magazines thrown about. At the bottom of one there was a worn newspaper, creases running in every which way. It seemed like it’d been crumpled then smoothed a million times over. I could only see one corner, but that was all I needed. I would know the stormy gray eyes peeking out of that photograph anywhere. Even the depths of hell. They were angry, sad, and out of control, the way they had been the morning I left Him.
The well-worn newspaper was proof that everyone had seen the brawl and the aftermath except me. Now the paper I’d run from was laying in front of me. Did I want to see? Could I stand it? He’d be there with her, standing, refusing to fight for me. My hand was moving before I’d really made up my mind.
There we were, splashed across two full pages of The Post. I couldn’t bring myself to read the headlines or captions. I could barely process the pictures. Frame by frame I was shown falling apart, and then, in one gut-wrenchingly horrible photo, I saw when my heart had actually given up beating. It was plain on my face, and I remembered the feeling down deep in my bones. I automatically clutched at my chest. Breath was trying to force its way into my lungs as the newspaper trembled in my hand.
“I tried to call.” Kevin leaned around me and gently pulled the paper from my quaking hands.
I hadn’t heard him come in but I turned to shake against his chest as he folded up the reminder and slid it back under the comic books.
“Is that why it’s been a rough couple of weeks?”
I nodded idly. I couldn’t manage much more. He pulled away long enough to grab whiskey and a glass from the front of the bus. He poured me a small shot and added a few cubes. I took a sip and the taste hit me hard. It wasn’t soothing like earlier, it burned my throat like acid.
“The paper said you ended it with him. I’m guessing it’s not that simple?” He sat down on the couch and gently pulled me onto his lap, waiting for a response. When I didn’t give one he added, “You don’t have to talk about it…”
“Good.” I hadn’t meant to bark.
“Alright.” He nodded and rested his chin on my shoulder. Eventually, only the sound of the rain mingled with my shallow breathing. Counting the pitter-patters as they hit helped me stop shaking. Kevin misunderstood, thinking it was his touch, and squeezed tighter. He smiled against my shoulder.
This is fucked up. You are fucked up, Kate.
My inner voice was right. Why on earth would I let Kevin think he could fix this? No one could. This was permanent.
“I’ve got an idea,” he broke the silence between us. “You won’t have to talk if you’re busy dancing, right? Come to the show tonight.”
With nothing more than the prospect of counting ceiling dots as a reason to refuse, I reluctantly agreed.
“If you want a night off the bus you can stay with me.” It would keep me from wallowing.
Fingers crossed.
The show was a good distraction after all but I couldn’t shake an off feeling in my stomach. The boys were fun and full of energy. Their bouncing, dancing, and playing was enough to put one of those new, weird, mangled smiles on my face and push past whatever my stomach was trying to say. When it was over, they packed up quickly and only stayed to sign a few autographs. They seemed to be rushing more than I was to get back to my room. I smirked at the thought.
When they were thoroughly distracted by burgers and beer, I stole a few fries as I snuck quietly out of the living room. My bones had started to ache as badly as my head, both thundering with little hope of relief. I was slipping off my shoes on the side of the bed when there was a soft knock at the door.
“Come in.” I sighed.
Kevin slid around the door, looking flushed in the small crack of light. He wormed his way around the bed and plopped down next to me. He bounced a little, his knees jittery against the mattress.
“Great show tonight, Kev.”
I tried to smile at him as he played an imaginary bass next to me. I had to stop myself from reaching up to check my cheeks for success. After a moment, he stopped short. His eyes snapped to mine and all his fidgeting stopped. I’d left the lights off to ease the tension in my head but the city glow simply managed to cast sensual shadows across our skin. Before he even said it, I sensed what was coming.
“Can I kiss you?” He slowly reached up to push a strand of hair behind my ear.
I froze. And for a split second I thought about it. About what it would feel like to kiss and clutch and claw at someone. To have someone worship on my body again. Maybe the weight of a man on top of me would keep my soul from fracturing further.
But when I looked Kevin full in the face, and deep chocolate eyes rather than bright blue met me, I knew I couldn’t follow through. I couldn’t just shoot him down either, not when he was being kind and caring. Again. I took a deep, world-weary breath before I began.
“I still have dreams about being shot at. I feel guilty every single moment of every single day that I made us go into the park that day. That I left that family without a son. I still close my eyes and see his blood on my hands from the CPR, or the fear and pain in his eyes. I watch him die over and over again.”
“God, Kate…” Kevin whispered.
I continued all the same. “I haven’t slept well since it happened except when I was with Him. He kept those nightmares at bay.”
Kevin listened quietly next to me, his hand resting on my leg. His only movement was when his fingers clenched at the veiled reference to Bryant.
“That night I begged him to stay. Begged him.” Kevin would know how uncharacteristic that was. “I needed him to chase the panic away but he wouldn’t. I went to find him, to make him. When I did, well, you saw what happened.” I got quiet.
“And now you’re broken hearted,” he finished for me.
“Just broken.” I shrugged nonchalantly, accepting my fate.
“You’re not broken. You’re just hurt, and understandably so. You need some time. You need to relax. Hell, you need a good night’s sleep.” He reached down and dug around in his pocket. “Here, take this.” He dropped a tiny white pill into my palm.
“What? Why?” I cocked my head, first down at my hand then up at him.
“It’s an Ambien. I have them because I don’t sleep well on the road. You know that.” He gently clasped my hand around the pill. “I just think you need a little perspective and this might help. This sucks, you’re hurt, but he couldn’t have been the one.” Kevin’s words made my stomach bottom out but he didn’t notice as he continued. “I mean any guy who you’ve shown that sensitive underbelly to would rather lose an arm than you. Trust me I know.”
I turned at his pained tone. Kevin didn’t
do sad or miserable. His plump lips were inches from mine. I studied first them then let my gaze wander over his face. His eyes didn’t burn like wildfires but they spoke volumes. They were pleading with me to listen. To sleep, to relax, to move on. The realization crashed down on me—Kevin was begging me to be his again.
Could I?
Could I ever be anyone’s again? Bile rose in my throat, my body physically rejecting the idea. But I made myself swallow it down, along with the overwhelming feeling that this was betraying Bryant.
“Kate, I love you, I’d be lying if I said anything different…” I’d read Kevin’s thoughts as perfectly as if he’d scribbled them in bold letters across his face, “But I can’t be your rebound. Again. There’s only so much a man can take.” His hand flexed into me again. “You’ve got to fix yourself first. And I want you to do that for yourself, not me. Please.”
Emotion welled up in me at his ardent plea. I barely noticed when tears started spilling down their well-worn tracks. Kevin reached for my cheek and traced the slight trails. For a moment I was certain he’d whisper fuck it and kiss me anyway—that’s certainly what He would have done—but Kevin simply pulled me into a bear hug.
He used his sturdy hold to pull me up to the pillows. I sobbed silently against his chest as we settled against the headboard.
“Take the pill, Kate. Get some sleep,” Kevin whispered as he pushed the covers back with his feet. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A tentative smile pulled on the corner of his cheek as he turned to kiss my forehead. His affection was so obvious, his answer so simple, that there in the moonlight, I popped the little white pill and snuggled into a man that was everything Nicholas Bryant was not.
I wasn’t sure when I’d stopped clinging to Kevin’s chest but I was glad I was still curled against his skin. I nuzzled my nose against a sharp jawline and breathed in deeply. An unexpected but utterly familiar scent of faint cologne, scotch, and something woody, almost smoky, wove into my senses. I knew that scent. It meant I was home.
