Tonight, she’d fight for him.
“Drink,” she instructed in a calm tone as she handed the glass off. He opened his mouth to protest, but she fixed him with an unwavering stare. She watched the anger and aggression deflate, his emotions parading on Front Street; he had always been easy to read. A second later he swigged down the glass of water like it was another shot of bourbon.
“Let’s head back to your apartment. You can argue with me there,” she said, keeping her tone level, but firm. His brows furrowed, and he staggered up from his stool. She knew better than to offer him help, even though the urge to throw her arms around him, breathe in the scent of sage and smokes, and walk him to the door was so strong.
She tried not to look back when she reached the chipped door of the Hideaway, just took comfort in the thud of slow footsteps that meant he still followed her. Outside in the brisk night air, she heard the creak and groan of the door closing, and turned back to look at him.
“You coming? I’m sorta going to need you to unlock your place if I’m staying there tonight,” she said nonchalantly, trying to keep him from tipping too far in any direction. He ran a hand through his hair, his face filled with grief, like he’d lost his best friend. In a way, something had shattered for him tonight. The sobriety he’d worked so hard on, all those hours, days, minutes of dedication swept away in a single lapse.
However, Liv had learned a thing or two about putting pieces back together. She’d experienced how a single moment could shatter you, and still she had survived. She refused to let the past, their damage, or this break here and now keep them apart.
They neared the steps of his apartment, the midnight shadows seeping into the cracks and seams of the building. She latched tight to the railing, the cool metal pressing into her palm, the heavy thump of his boots hitting the aluminum stairs behind her providing a measure of comfort.
Zane stepped in front of her and fumbled with the key, trying and failing the first couple of times to jam it into the lock. Liv watched in silence behind folded arms as her nails bit into her arms. Right now, he probably mistook her quiet for judgment or disapproval, but they could clear up any misunderstandings later.
Finally, he managed to open the door and staggered inside. Liv slipped in quickly in case he changed his mind and tried to shut her out. Zane didn’t bother turning on any of the lights, just made a beeline for his couch. Without another word, he dropped onto the cushions and curled to his side. Liv crept forward, bumping her shins on an end table and colliding with a chair she missed as she tried to dodge around the stacks of books and the random piles of papers on his coffee table.
By the time Liv made her way over, his eyes were shut, those long lashes on full display, his face calm. His shoulders rose and fell with the steady rhythm of sleep. The relief that struck her almost brought her to her knees. Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed the sobs threatening to break. She had been so afraid since he had left the wedding, so destroyed by the shame and sadness in his eyes when she’d found him. Her limbs trembled with the effort to remain calm and strong.
She reached in his back pocket and pulled out his phone. This might have been a lapse, but she refused to allow tonight to turn into a full-blown descent into drinking again. His phone lock was a simple swipe, so within seconds she scrolled through his calls, searching for repetition. One name popped up over and over again. Liv sucked in a deep breath and pressed the call button.
A couple of rings sounded as she stood there in the dark her heart hammering in her chest.
“Hello?” a deep male’s voice came from the other end.
“Hey, I’m Zane’s girlfriend, Liv. He hit the bottle tonight, and I think he’s going to need your help.”
14
Zane hadn’t descended to this level of hell in years. Worse than the cottonmouth, the throbbing headache, and the aching limbs was the toxic shame and loathing that flooded him in a fierce torrent. He had royally fucked up last night. Not only had he broken his sobriety and thrown away countless hours of hard work, but Liv had showed up. She’d seen him in that miserable state, little more than a growling beast. Nausea swept over him. With a slow creak, he rose from the couch to find her, to apologize, and then to move three states away.
Instead of the teal-haired beauty who he vaguely remembered escorting him home last night, a grizzled, pock-marked war vet sat in his chair, awake and reading one beast of a book. He wore a pressed plaid shirt and a pair of khakis that fit too well, the man brimming with a refinement no one would expect if they knew his history.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Sampson?” he asked, his voice coming out thick from sleep and dehydration.
“Drink some water before you talk to me,” his sponsor said, pointing to the full glass on the coffee table in front of him. “You sound like shit.”
Zane slid up, wincing as his head pounded to a quicker tempo. His arm trembled a little bit as he lifted the glass, but he forced the liquid down his throat, even if the cold burned the whole way. He hung his head in front of him before making the slow, painstaking attempt to unbutton the once-nice shirt that after his bender would have to be retired. He doubted those stains would come out any time soon.
“She called me last night,” Sampson said, glancing up from his book. “You’ve got a good one there.”
“Had,” he said, glaring at his rug. Fuck, yesterday had been hell, from the moment Lex flung the past into his face to stumbling into Hideaway. The first shot of bourbon dosed him with such sweet relief, one he couldn’t forget no matter how much he tried. That was the relief he fought against every day sober, that first gulp with its siren’s allure. He rummaged in his pocket for his chip and tossed it in Sampson’s direction. “You’ll be wanting this back.”
Sampson placed his book on the coffee table over top of the couple of papers scattered across the surface. “You’ll just have to earn it again.”
“I’ve got nothing, man. Nothing to work for and nothing to live for. You might as well spend your time on someone worth a damn, someone with a chance at fighting this battle,” Zane murmured into his hands. His heart pounded in his chest. God, he was such a piece of shit. Couldn’t even handle a wedding with his girl—he bolted straight for the bottle and destroyed everything he’d worked towards in one quick sweep.
Monster. The word pulsed through him with the regularity of his urges, mocking his efforts at cleaning up his life. Mocking the stupid hope he might find happiness with Liv. Assholes like him didn’t deserve redemption. He swallowed, his throat tightening despite the water he poured down it.
“Your girl wanted me to pass along something,” Sampson said, drawing his attention. He reached into his pocket and handed over a couple pieces of paper. Zane reached over to grab them from Sampson, staring at the pictures. She’d printed out the photographs she’d taken of their picnic food. Liv made those dishes come alive and brought them to breathtaking color and clarity that made them leap off the page.
“She said your dream was worth fighting for, and that she’s going to be there to see it come true,” Sampson added, watching him with those too-knowing eyes. “Don’t know what the hell a bunch of pictures of food has to do with it, though.”
Zane sucked in a shaky breath, hoping his sponsor happened to look the other way while liquid pooled in his eyes. Not like he’d let the tears fall. Shit. She had infected him with the exact hope that clashed against the desolation claiming him now.
“And as for me walking away, tough luck, asshole. I didn’t invest this much time in you to ditch now.” Sampson watched him from where he leaned back into the chair. “There’s a meeting in a half hour, and we’re attending. If I gave up every time I had a lapse, I’d have been buried years back. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you despite the poison you preach to yourself.”
Zane raked a hand through his tangled hair, the tumult of emotions warring with the blistering hangover he fended off. An invisible slick of scum coated his skin in the w
ake of his bender. Every ounce of him wanted to crumple down and accept defeat. He’d fucked up, and he’d continue fucking up from here until eternity. However, the pictures of the food he’d created, at the warmth and beauty Liv portrayed those meals with—that stirred something he’d tried to trample and strangle out at every attempt. The hope of a future he longed for, one he’d almost tasted.
Facing everyone at AA with his recent failure ranked up there as the last thing he wanted to do—the mere thought of it soured his stomach. But sometimes all it took was the first step. To continue on, one step at a time, until minutes turned into days, and days turned into years. He’d vanished once out of Liv’s life with no explanation—he wouldn’t do that to her again. Even if she chose to leave afterwards, he’d give her his whole story.
“Let me change out of this shit and we’ll head out,” Zane responded, rising from the couch to lumber towards his room. Sampson didn’t look up from the book he’d diverted his attention to, but a nearly imperceptible smile lifted the corner of his lips.
The meeting had been grueling, to say the least. Zane expected as much. He lit his cigarette as he stalked towards his apartment and sucked down nicotine as fast as he could manage. Sampson had sat with him through the entire meeting, his steady presence keeping him connected. Even though memories of yesterday squeezed him dry and his head still throbbed with the remnants of his hangover, he managed to put one foot in front of the other. At the end of the day, that’s all he could do.
As he approached his apartment, a familiar figure sat on the bottom step, causing Zane to freeze. His hands balled into fists at his side, and anger mixed with the shame roared in at the sight of his former friend.
Lex stood, raising his hands in defense. “Hear me out, Z.” His voice was serious, hoarse even. “Please.”
Zane kept his composure by a thread, shaken from their encounter yesterday. He sucked in a deep breath. Another confrontation like the one before might decimate him, but the asshole stood right in front of the steps, blocking his way up.
“I wanted to apologize,” Lex said, looking at the ground as he scratched the back of his neck. Zane’s brows furrowed in confusion. Out of everything he’d expected, an apology wasn’t it. “Back then—that night…I didn’t know what you’d been through, and like the shit friend I was, I didn’t even try to get the whole story. You’d been suffering in silence while I paraded around calling you my best friend, acting like I knew you. I knew shit was bad for you at home, and I should’ve been there for you.”
Zane swallowed, hard. He never expected to see that shade of vulnerability on Lex, and his brain had turned into such mush at this point he could barely compute. The hardass had been quick to laugh with him but had bolted when he needed him the most—never the kind of guy to offer an apology. He opened his mouth, but all he managed was, “How did you find out?”
Lex fixed him with a look. “My sister. I tried to scare her away from you, told her the whole story about the night in the bar, and she fired back at your defense. She doesn’t give a damn about what landed you in jail, bro. Turns out, she understood you better than I ever did.”
Zane leaned against the brick wall, the stone scraping against his shirt. He sucked down another swig of nicotine from his cigarette, needing something to balance him. All day he’d been steeling himself to bare his soul, to reveal his ugliest secret to Liv, but last night when she’d arrived to take care of him she had already known—she’d known and came anyway.
“So, why are you here?” Zane asked, trying to figure out the man’s motivations. After the way Lex ripped into him last night, he had a hard time buying any change of heart. Bitterness like that didn’t just vanish.
Lex shook his head. “Thought that was pretty clear. I held onto a lot of anger over that night for far too long, and I’m done with that. Liv was right—I was being an asshole and a shitty friend. I don’t expect your friendship, but I couldn’t sleep at night if I didn’t at least try to set things straight. You fucked up and you did your time. At the end of the day, that’s all we can do.”
The declaration from his former friend socked him in the gut, something he had never expected to hear from Lex. With the way his nerves jittered at this point, even the smooth intake of nicotine didn’t help. Zane slid to a crouch, keeping his back pressed against the brick as he let out another steady stream of smoke, watching it rise up between them. He deserved Lex’s anger after the way he’d flown off the handle that night. During his time behind bars, he’d contemplated a thousand ways he could have dealt with the situation better.
Even though his years of heavy drinking blurred some memories, others he would carry with him for the rest of his life. Lex might not have been the kind of solid friend Liv was but he’d been a stable presence for Zane when so much had been chaos. That night, Lex had looked at him in sheer horror, and when Zane stared at his own bloodstained hands and the still body beneath him—he’d been sure he killed Jay —he lost what little steady ground he stood on. That day he’d never felt more like a monster—like the monster his own father had been.
“I don’t know how you can forgive me when I haven’t forgiven myself,” he murmured, staring at the asphalt beneath him. He sucked in the last drag of his cigarette, crushing the end under his boot. His heart pounded so loud it competed with the traffic, and the itch to find another bar or hit the liquor store up the street rose with every uncomfortable second he faced his demons.
Zane didn’t dare look at Lex—couldn’t stand judgment or pity right now when he wanted to drown these shitty feelings in an endless glass of bourbon. He could picture the disappointment lining Sampson’s face when he slipped again and again. His throat tightened. He didn’t even want to imagine how his lapses would devastate Liv over time. How he’d destroy her life as sure as he’d ruined his own.
Lex came over to sit beside him, even though the proud motherfucker couldn’t meet Zane’s eyes. The close proximity was familiar, despite the years and anger separating them for so long. “What you did in the bar was shitty, sure. Fucked up, definitely. But the way Jay hurt his girls while I just laughed his talk off? I can’t help but think that out there, Liv’s rapist was bullshitting with his guys the day after he ruined my sister’s life. And yeah, I’d want to punch the guy until he stopped breathing, too.”
Zane tried to ignore the heat stinging his eyes at the understanding he never dreamed he’d get. At the friend he’d sorely missed all these years. He flicked his Bic and lit another cigarette, taking a drag to steady himself. With the flood of emotions he’d been wrestling with from the second he opened his eyes, the familiar urge for a drink rode him in a fiercer way than normal. However, his empty pocket fought those urges—he needed to earn his chips back, one step at a time, the way he had when he’d first started this journey.
“You know I’d never hurt your sister, right?” Zane said, his voice coming out hoarse. He didn’t dare look at Lex, because the tide begged to break, and he sure as hell wouldn’t crumble in front of him. “She’s the first person in a long while who’s given me an ounce of hope. She could leave me, break my heart, do whatever she needs to. What’s most important to me is Liv’s happiness.”
Lex snorted. “Man, now you’re really making me feel like an ass. I should’ve come and confronted you about this years ago. Holding the grudge took some effort.”
Zane shrugged and tapped the ash from the end of his cigarette onto the asphalt. “It’s like the guys at my meetings say—you can’t force progress. Everything has a time and a season. If you’d tried to rush things this conversation wouldn’t be genuine and we’d do more damage than good.”
Lex heaved a sigh and scratched the nape of his neck. “Still, a decade’s a lot of wasted years.” He glanced to Zane at last, the apology clear in his eyes. Like his sister, Lex couldn’t conceal his emotions worth a damn. Zane ran a hand through his tangled strands, the strain in his chest dissipating at the honest conversation he’d longed to have for s
o long with his former best friend.
“All it took was me tapping your sister to bridge that divide,” Zane shot back with a smirk before he could help himself, falling into older patterns.
Lex’s gaze flared, and Zane swallowed. Shit.
Except, when Lex opened his mouth, he shut it a second later. And in that moment, the bristling indignation dissolved, and a sharp laugh erupted from him. Lex shook his head as his laughter increased until his shoulders shook. Zane’s grin spread, his chest warming with amusement. Childish and stupid, sure, but they hadn’t joked in years, and hell on earth, it felt good.
“You fucking asshole,” Lex said, dropping a lazy punch to Zane’s arm.
Zane shrugged and took another drag from his cigarette, staring at the bright sky overhead. For the first time in a while, those sunbeams warmed him to the core.
15
When a knock on Liv’s door sounded, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.
Once Lex sent the text that he was heading to Zane’s to apologize, she chose to stay home and give them time. Still, she was desperate to be by Zane’s side right now. The idea of him relapsing scared her, but even worse, the idea of him disappearing again was sheer terror. Her throat dried as she rose off her leather couch, and Percival the Bold gave a plaintive meow when her movement rippled across the couch. Liv ran her fingers across his head as she headed for the door.
Before she could even reach for the handle, the door flew open, and Tessa marched inside. Liv sucked in a breath to mask her disappointment as the memories of their last encounter came crashing down. Any normal day she’d walk right up to her bestie and toss her arms around her, but after the hellish night she’d been through, Liv wasn’t in the mood for another preach session.
Captured Memories: Cupid’s Cafe, Book Three Page 11
