Whiskey Lullaby

by Stevie J. Cole

  So I sang the rest with my eyes closed. When I finished and opened my eyes, her hand was clutched to her chest. She slowly pushed up from the piano bench. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You have a gift.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Whenever she’s sad, sing that song to her and tell her I’m still with her.” She patted my arm on her way out of the room.

  I swallowed, my breath sticking like molasses in my throat. “I will.”

  Moments like that, they’re why I pretended I didn’t have a heart. Sometimes, life hurt too much.

  ______

  By the time I got home, Old Man’s lights were out, and he wasn’t in his yard. I was so busy staring at the dark windows I nearly missed the Mazda parked to the side of my house.

  I slammed the door shut, glancing over at the car. “You know, you don’t answer your texts,” Daisy’s voice floated across the yard and I caught the cherry-red glow of her cigarette when she lifted it to her lips.

  “Yeah, that’s the beauty of free will.”

  She rolled her eyes on a huff. “You’re a dick.”

  I feigned a bow as I step onto the porch. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, that guy, Brice Taylor, that’s been trying to get in touch with you…” She took another drag, blowing a steady stream of white smoke through her lips. “He asked me to have a word with you since you keep hanging up on him.”

  How the hell does she know? I scrubbed my hand over the back of my neck, swatting at the mosquitoes still buzzing around. “How do you even know about that?”

  She laughed and tossed her cigarette down. “I told you my videos would make you famous one day.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “He saw the video and commented on it.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped her finger over the screen. “Look.” She held up the phone and I took it from her with a roll of my eyes. Daisy was the type of girl who would do just about anything for attention. I stared down at the comment from a profile with the name: TheRealBriceTaylor. “Okay, so some dickhead made a fake profile to be funny.”

  “No… he emailed me and said he loved your sound, something about looking for some new talent. I don’t know, but I gave him your number and you keep hanging up on him.”

  “It’s bullshit. Go home.” I crammed the key into my lock and opened the door. She of course followed me in, but I stopped in the doorway. “Daisy, look, I appreciate it, I do, but I’m just not…”

  She trailed a finger over my cheek and I jerked away from her touch. “You’re too humble, you know it.”

  “Would you leave?”

  “He’s gonna call you again tomorrow.” She rolled one shoulder. “It could change your life.”

  “And why do you even care?”

  “Jesus, I’ve had a thing for you since sixth grade.”

  “And? So…”

  “All great love stories have a sacrifice.”

  Swiping my hand down my face, I groaned. “Daisy, that doesn’t even make sense. You aren’t sacrificing shit.”

  “I just want you to be happy, for you to see how good you are at something.” She smiled, and I almost felt bad for being such a dick to her. “And besides, whether you like me or not, you have a great voice.” And then I did feel bad.

  “Shit, Daisy… I, I’m sorry. Thank you.”

  She took a small step toward me, placing her hand on my chest. Give them an inch… I grabbed her wrist just as she pushed up on her tiptoes and closed her eyes.

  “Just kiss me, one time.” She huffed. “I’ve earned that at least, haven’t I?”

  I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She groaned. “Wow. You really are a dick.”

  “Daisy, just go home.” I took her by the shoulders and shoved her back a step.

  “Don’t forget where you came from, Noah Greyson.” She glared at me as she took a step back onto my porch.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that.” And I shut the door in her face, locking the deadbolt.

  Halfway across my living room, I pulled my phone from my pocket and swiped through the received calls until it landed on the number with no contact information. 615. I typed the area code into Google. Sure enough, it was a Nashville number. What the fuck?

  My heart banged against my ribs, adrenaline flooded my system. It couldn’t be legit. It couldn’t be real. I glanced around my shitty house and through the window at Old Man’s house. It couldn’t…

  My phone rang, breaking my mind from its rambling thoughts. I didn’t even check the number, I just answered it. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Hannah said. “I, uh… I’m at the jail. Can you, can you come get me?”

  “You’re what?” I thought she was screwing with me. “Seriously, where are you?”

  “At the Rockford County Jail. Daddy’s gonna kill me, please come get me.”

  “Shit.” I turned in a circle, looking for my keys and finally spotting them on the end table. “Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  ______

  The smell of mildew and cigarette smoke hit me like a wet rag when I stepped into the jail’s waiting room. Mary Anne, the wife of the town drunk Jebidiah, was perched on a chair, reading National Enquirer. She peeked over the top of the magazine, eyeing me up and down before she lifted a cigarette to her lips. I didn’t think you were supposed to smoke inside, but she was a regular visitor and Jeb’s bail money probably paid at least two of the bailiffs.

  “Can I help you?” one of the attendants asked from behind the glass window.

  I stepped over, pulling my ball cap off before I leaned down to the open area of the window. “Hannah Blake,” I whispered.

  “Who?” She popped the gum in her mouth. “I can’t hear you.”

  “Hannah Blake.”

  “Hannah Blake,” she said loudly, typing on her keyboard. Her fingers paused over the keys and she quirked a drawn-on brow. “That’s John Blake’s daughter, right?”

  Clenching my jaw, I nodded.

  “That’s a shame. She was such a good girl.”

  I heard Mary Anne’s paper crinkle. I glanced over my shoulder to see her staring in my direction. “The preacher’s daughter?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “What’d she do?”

  I shook my head and turned back around.

  “She’ll be right out, hun. Go have a seat.”

  I didn’t have a seat. I stood right by the door. When the lock clicked and the buzzer sounded, the door swung open. I expected Hannah to be a complete mess, swollen eyes, splotchy face, but she wasn’t. She walked right out, shoving a yellow piece of paper in her jeans. “Thanks.” She headed toward the doors, waving at Mary Anne. “Hi, Mrs. Lockhead.”

  Mary Anne waved as Hannah walked outside. The door nearly hit me in the face, and the second I caught up to Hannah, I grabbed her hand. “What in the hell?” I nearly laughed. “Why were you in there?”

  “I stole a boat.”

  “What?”

  “Or as you like to call it, borrowed a boat?”

  An amused laugh slipped through my lips. “Really?”

  “I needed serenity, and someone told me the middle of the lake was the most serene place you could go.” She smirked, and while I found it adorable as fuck, there was a little nagging in the pit of my stomach. I kept hearing that lady inside the jail say, “She used to be a good girl.” Something told me I’d already tainted her.

  She stopped beside my car, waiting for me to get the door for her.

  “Don’t let me rub off on you, pretty girl.” I yanked open the door and jerked my chin back toward the jail. “You see where it gets you.”

  “I’ll just have you know I made friends with the lady in the cell with me.” She hopped in the car with a grin. God, she was something… “Besides, life is about experiences, right?”

  Shaking my head, I went to the driver’s side. I felt her staring at me when I shoved the key in the ignition. I looked over and cocked a brow. “Yes?”

&n
bsp; “I’m glad I met you.” She scooted across the seat and grabbed my face, pressing her lips to mine.

  Something so damn little, but it meant the world. When she pulled away, I bit my bottom lip on a groan. “Woman, you have no idea what you do to me.”

  30

  Noah

  Fall 2016

  When I lifted the beer bottle to my lips, it was empty. “Damn it.”

  I grabbed two beers from the fridge, along with the stack of letters from the table, then went back to the living room and sunk down on my leather couch. When I popped the beer open, the metal lid went flying across the room and landed in front of the plasma TV.

  I took a large gulp, already aware that the half case in my fridge would most likely be gone before I finished those letters. I knew I’d feel like shit the next day, but some things weren’t meant to be digested sober and those—I glanced down to the handwritten pages—I needed to be as numb as I could to digest those.

  Noah,

  You told me I’d hate you before it was all over, and maybe that should have been my first clue, you were already saying it wasn’t forever. But I believed in fate, Noah. Until you, I believed in fate and so many other things I no longer believe in.

  I blew a loud breath through my lips and chugged my beer. Sometimes, I wasn’t sure what bothered me the most: the fact that I gave into her when I knew better, or the fact that she gave into me when she knew better.

  We only slept together once. One time. And maybe that’s part of it, I never told you.

  Between the kisses and heavy breaths, I thought about it. I thought maybe I should tell you, but then the clothes came off and you ran your hands over my naked body, over every last curve and dip. You looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, like you had to have me, and I didn’t want to ruin that.

  You took me. Claimed me—in ways you never knew. You are the only man I’ve ever slept with.

  I stared at those words, my brow wrinkled. The only one? On a groan, I hung my head. If I’d only known. Jesus Christ, Hannah. Had I only known… And I went right back to reading.

  I so badly wanted to go into detail here. I wanted to write every last movement. Every last breath, but, I don’t have to. Because you know what it felt like.

  The way my fingers raked through your thick hair when you laid down between my thighs. The way I squirmed when your mouth was on me. That first taste. How wet you made me? You remember what that felt like, don’t you? What it looked like when my back bowed away from the bed as your fingers sank into me so deep and hard. The desperation in my voice when I begged for you to be inside of me.

  You pinned my arms above my head when you finally sank inside of me. “Fuck,” you said, closing your eyes. A deep groan rumbled up your throat. And with each brutal thrust, I moaned. I dug my nails into your broad back and moaned, cursing underneath my breath because you felt so right even though you were so goddamn wrong. That was the thing about you, Noah. You always felt so right.

  The next morning, I woke with your arm around me like that was how everything should have been. And in another life, I really believe it was.

  31

  Hannah

  Summer 2015

  My phone rang the second I stepped into Noah’s house. As much as I wanted to direct it to voicemail when I saw it was my father, I couldn’t. If something had happened to Momma, I’d never forgive myself.

  “Hey.”

  “You alright?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry, I was outta place, I’m just worried about you.”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  “I got your mother’s prescription. Gave her the pain meds and they seem to be helping…” My chest grew tight. Guilt perched on my shoulders like a heavy cross. I wanted to be with Noah, but I felt I should be there with her. God, what a horrible daughter I am.

  “Is she asleep?”

  “Yep. Been asleep for about an hour.” Noah walked to the hallway, bracing his arms in the doorway. The bottom of his shirt lifted just enough to show off the deep lines that disappeared below the waist of his jeans. “You coming home?”

  “In the morning.”

  There was an awkward silence. Daddy cleared his throat. I’m sure he wanted to ask me if I was with Noah, but he didn’t. I appreciated that. “Alright. Well, you be careful, and I love you.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  When I tossed the phone on the end table, Noah looked up, dropping his hands to his sides. “Everything alright?”

  “Yep. Everything’s good.” I walked past him straight into his room and sat down on the bed, propping my back against the headboard.

  He crawled onto the bed and pulled me into him. It felt so good to rest my head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. My finger traced the intricate tattoo of raven feathers. I stared closely and saw words actually made up the strands. “What does that say?”

  “Jai Guru Devum, Om.”

  “French?”

  “Yeah, some Beatles song. It means nothing’s gonna change my world.”

  “That’s tragically beautiful.”

  “Right? That is exactly what I thought.” He smiled at me. “Maybe I was wrong though…”

  I needed the way he felt, the safety, the sense of belonging when I sensed I was losing my way. Without even trying, Noah gave me peace during a restless time in my life. Some people speak to your mind. Some people speak to your heart. But Noah spoke to my soul. I laid against him, soothed by the rhythm of his heart and the slow sweep of his fingers over my arm. I questioned how I could feel the way I did about him. A few weeks ago, he was a stranger. And now, I felt like a moon stuck irrevocably within the orbit of his earth. The fact that this man had become my world in such a short time terrified me. But I guess love terrifies everyone, because nothing makes you more vulnerable. When you love someone, you give them the power to destroy you. There was no in-between with love.

  I snuggled against him, wrapping my arms around his body as much as I could. No matter how close my body was to his, it wasn’t enough. I softly took his jaw in my hand and sat up. “You make me happy.”

  Smiling, he kissed me. Soft. Sweet. Each movement of his lips slow and deliberate. He made me weak in the most beautiful of ways, because I felt that no matter what, no matter if I fell, he’d catch me. At that moment in my life, he was everything to me. A savior. A lifeline. The meaning of love. The proof that you don’t judge a book by its cover.

  His fingers grazed my jaw, my neck, and then he pulled away. His eyes studied me. “Tell me this is real,” he whispered.

  I swear the earth slowed for a moment. “Very.”

  “Good, because I can’t lose you.” His mouth slammed over mine and he braced his elbows on either side of my head, moving on top of me.

  The kiss went from slow and soft to hard, desperate. My insides tightened and coiled, my skin heated and my body moved against his seeking relief. “Touch me,” I whispered beside his ear before nibbling his neck.

  Within seconds, my jeans were on the floor, my underwear tossed somewhere to the side and while his fingers were inside me, I was working his jeans over his hips. Our shirts came off— mine first then his— and the second his naked body pressed against mine, I inhaled. The heat, the sensation. I’d never felt more alive than in that moment. This was love, I thought. There was no way it wasn’t. It crackled through the air between us like an all-consuming storm. Each touch of his fingertips was a roll of thunder, a crash of lightning, but each kiss was reverent. Innocent.

  Noah kissed along my side to my hips while he scooted down the bed. When he pushed my legs apart and dipped his head between my thighs, I tensed. There was a moment where I worried. He had no idea I’d never been with a man, and I needed to be everything he wanted. I held my arms by the pillow, trying to position my head just right. Trying to look the part—how I thought all those other girls he’d been with looked. I tried to not be nervous, self-conscious, but
how could I not? I was moments away from giving myself to a man who had no idea I was giving him anything. To him, this was another night, and to me, this was the night I would remember for the rest of my life, no matter what happened between us.

  His tongue brushed over me and I tensed again. “Relax, baby.”

  And I couldn’t help but do exactly that as I watched each slow movement he made. The way the air seemed to kiss my bare skin, the soft sounds of him groaning against me, the heat that flushed over my body like a rising tide—that was what erotic meant. It felt almost dirty yet pure in the most devoted of ways. At that moment, nothing outside of he and I existed. Nothing. The world began and ended with us, in that bed.

  “Noah,” I tugged at his hair. “Please…” I gasped, throwing my head back while a wave of bliss crashed over me. My thighs tensed around his head. “Please.” I sounded frantic, my movements were desperate, but I no longer cared. I grabbed under his arms and pulled. “Please!”

  The heat of his skin against mine when he moved over my body nearly sent me over the edge again. “What do you want?” he whispered against my neck.

  “You.”

  He exhaled, his hand palming my breast. “You want me to fuck you, Hannah? Hmm?” He licked my neck. “Tell me you want me inside you?” The deep, controlled tone of his voice forced chill bumps over my skin.

  He settled between my thighs. I could feel him right there, the heat, the slightest of touches, and I found myself lifting my hips, trying to force what I wanted from him. “Yes…” I turned my face toward his, and he kissed me, fumbling with the drawer of his nightstand.

  He shifted off me. A mixture of excitement and apprehension wound through me when I heard the wrapper tear open. I swallowed. Noah leaned over me, sweeping a finger over my cheek. “You mean so much to me.”

  I’d never been so aware of myself physically as I was in that moment when he moved between my legs. I closed my eyes and his lips laid against mine as he so slowly took me. That slight pressure was already addictive, and I found myself pushing against him, greedily searching for more. I’d always expected sex to be intrusive, slightly barbaric, but this was welcomed and poetic.