by K. L. Jessop
"Enough!" he roars, slamming the bottle on the table, causing me to flinch. Grayson comes up behind me, lacing his fingers with mine. The support makes me feel stronger than ever, and I’m thankful that he hasn’t stepped in. He’s had his fight with Asher, Mom has had her words with her son, and now—regardless of the slap I gave him—it’s time for me to get everything off my chest. Grayson knows this, and I believe Mom does too.
The words that come from my brother next change something inside of me, and I suddenly don’t care what he’s going through when he brings up Dad.
"You know what, Nora,” he grumbles, tilting his head at me and giving a look that tells me he’s going to try and break me down with whatever falls from his mouth. “By going with Gray, you've destroyed everything that Pop thought of his precious daughter."
I detest the fact that I inwardly smirk at his comment. This is not the time to score points, but the fact that I can shut him down on this one makes me feel so much better. “You’re wrong, and do you know why you are?”
He sits back taking another swig of his vodka. “Enlighten me.”
“Because Dad knew of me and Grayson before he died, and he was happy for us. Pop was the one who wanted us to be together. He was the one who pushed us closer with nothing but love and hope, while you pushed us together with your overprotectiveness, stupidity, and treachery.”
His eyes go wide, his face pales, and it’s as though he’s finally registered that he’s been outnumbered on this one. He glances at Mom and she only confirms what I’ve said.
“Well, Pop was always the weakest link when it came to his precious miracle child.” Seeing red and not being able to take much more of his disrespect over Dad, I lose my shit with him. I’ve known his drinking was becoming a problem, but I don’t understand why he has changed so quickly. It’s like the past few months has ripped the brother I had away and replaced him with a heartless monster. I don’t recognize him anymore.
“Have you even asked anything of Dad since you came home, Asher? Have you asked how he died? When he passed or where he’s even fucking buried? Do you have any idea what it’s been like for us with you gone, knowing that you never actually needed to go but did because you were a coward and couldn’t stay and care for him like I had to?”
He looks at Grayson, but I continue.
“Yes. He told me. He told me everything. That’s what people do when they love someone. They don’t keep secrets. They don’t run away like you did!” I yell.
“Nora.” Grayson grips my arm to hold me back, but I’m too far gone now to listen to anyone. After weeks of waiting, the animosity I feel toward my brother has now risen to the surface, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel better until I open up my bleeding wounds and scream out the words that have been suppressed in my heart for some time. The questions I’ve wanted to ask. The answers I’ve been needing to hear.
He sits there, jaw muscles flexing whilst he pays more attention to his bottle of vodka than me, rattling me even more.
“Did you ever stop to think that we might need you, Asher? Did we not cross your mind once when you spent another night in a bar drinking the night away? Did it not matter to you at all?”
Abruptly, he lifts his head, and the look in his eye sickens me. “Jesus, Nora, carry on like you are and I’m going to need another bottle.” He grins. “Hey, Gray. Fancy a drink to celebrate you bedding my sister.”
“Jesus Christ, Asher,” Grayson breathes.
Mom says something from behind me, but I don’t register her. I don’t register anything other than the way my body is now responding to his twisted reply. My blood boils even more, and my temper skyrockets. I lunge toward him and shriek in his face while Grayson tries to hold me back.
“Dad is dead, Asher. Dead! Yet all you care about is fucking booze. What the hell is wrong with you?” Like I’ve lost all control, I rip the bottle from his hand and throw it against the wall behind him in a wave of uncontrollable fury. Glass shatters around us, and the silence that falls is deafening.
I tremble hard. My mother’s horrified gasp hits my ears, and I instantly regret my behavior because the last thing I want to do is upset her.
I can’t breathe.
A rush of hot and cold races through my body, and my chest becomes unbearably tight. I can’t be here anymore.
I can’t look at him anymore.
I can’t bear this anymore.
Without a word, I step back as the tears burn my eyes. And I run.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grayson
“You can’t do this to me!” Lacy shrieks.
I’m getting sick and tired of this week. It’s been nothing but a train wreck of arguments, tears, and punches being thrown. Why can’t people just accept things and move the fuck on? I knew this day wouldn’t be easy. Correction. The part where I said she was fired would be easy—I fucking loved that part—but now she’s standing at the door of my office after following me around the bar for almost an hour protesting that I’ve made a mistake, or that it won't happen again. She’s right about it not happening again because she’ll no longer be here.
“I can and I just have. Now get your things and get the fuck out of my bar.”
She’s about to say something else when she catches Mark hovering behind her in the doorway, waiting to enter my office.
“Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, Mark. Come in,” I say. He comes in, squeezing past a frustrated Lacy. If she doesn’t go soon, I will lose my shit. I can’t bear looking at her anymore.
“Tell Grayson he’s making a mistake for firing me.”
“And what mistake would that be?” Mark replies. “The one where he’s fired you because you went behind his back? Or the one where you sent pictures of him and Nora to Asher? Because if you were my employee, Lacy, I would have kicked your ass long before now.”
“I don’t understand what the big deal is here.”
“You played with the devil, sweetheart,” Mark replies, taking a seat on the opposite side of my desk.
“You can go now, Lacy.”
Her eyes glare and her mouth twists in displeasure. “This isn’t over, Grayson. I’ll take legal action.”
“You do that,” I sigh.
When she slams the door, I close my eyes and rub my hand over my face, glad I don’t have to endure the conversation any longer. It’s been a long three days since all hell broke loose at Nora’s house, and although Mark has been keeping an eye on Asher, I’ve yet to take that step and go and see him for myself. He’s still drinking, he’s still fuming, and although the friend in me needs to help him, my top priority is Nora.
“You look like shit,” Mark says, watching me closely, no doubt referring to my tired eyes and the dark green bruise that covers my jaw. My ribs still ache like a bitch, too. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just tired. I haven’t slept much these past few days with worry over Nora.”
“Is she okay? Are you two okay?”
That day at her place, the way her body had shaken, the way she’d screamed at Asher. I’ve never seen her like that before, so enraged yet so vulnerable. I’d wanted to tell her to stop. I’d wanted to smack Asher twice as hard because he’d showed no sign of remorse for his actions. I’d wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her everything would be okay because I’d hated the way he was causing her to react when she’d been under so much stress weeks prior. But I hadn’t been able to because, despite what I wanted, I knew that she’d needed that.
Nothing had compared to when I’d chased after her and she’d fallen to pieces, though— falling to the ground in the driveway. My beautiful girl had shed a thousand tears as she’d struggled to control her breathing. The panic in her had been unbearable to watch as I’d tried to calm her down. I’d held onto her for what felt like hours, and she’d apologized over and over for the way she’d behaved. Asher’s the one who’s acted selfishly and insensitively, yet she’d been the one fucking apo
logizing.
“Yeah, we are fine. And she is doing a lot better now, but I’m just concerned because I know that she’s secretly stressing over Asher and I don’t want her to.”
“She still not spoken to him since?”
“No. And she says she doesn’t want to. In her eyes, regardless of the fact he has an addiction, she’s been burned with his actions over Pete. But then sometimes, I catch her staring into space or looking at family pictures. She says she’s just thinking of her dad, and I believe that’s true, but a part of me also thinks it’s an excuse used for the fact she is also thinking of Asher.”
“You just have to let her deal with things in the only way she can.” He leans forward and sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Jesus, this is all fucked up.”
“No shit. I just don’t know what to do for the best. I want to go see him but know it will only add fuel to the fire. I want to support him but know he won’t want it because, in his eyes, he doesn’t have a problem.”
“He told me the same thing when I saw him. There’s nothing wrong with him and everyone needs to get off his case, apparently.”
“And unfortunately, that’s what they believe. Mom was the same. She was right and everyone else was wrong. I’m just hoping Asher sees sense and does something about it before it’s too late.”
“Christ, you can’t even write a book about what you and the Nelsons have been through.”
“Tell me about it. Pete was one thing but having two people from the two households become alcohol depended for different reasons is crazy.”
The shit we’ve had to put up with between our two families is almost laughable. It’s like our part of the street is doomed, and I fear it’s not going to get better anytime soon.
“Well, there’s help there for Asher when he’s ready. He just needs to want it.”
And I fear he won’t. Asher has always been headstrong and determined. No one tells him what to do. No one tells him he is wrong, and no one can change his mind once he’s decided on something. It has been the cause of many disagreements between us. He’s never been able to see the bigger picture. He’s never thought outside the box. He’s always treated each day and decision like a day out on a mission, regardless of where he’s standing. Head down, focused and on point. The only difference being home is that there is never a gun in his hand.
“Fuck, this is such a mess,” I sigh. “Where is Pete when you need him.”
“He’s sat up on the cloud with a beer watching it all unfold.”
“I feel like I’ve failed him. I promised I’d take care of them and look where that has got me.” Remorse cripples my chest, and I think back to the last conversation I’d had with Pete. I told him I’d love them. We’re not even two months gone, and I’ve already failed with the one thing I said I never would. Maybe I don’t have it in me: the true strength of a man. My dad said I never did. What if he was right? I failed Mom. I let Pete down. Now I’m doing the same to the Nelsons.
“You have taken care of them. Despite what Asher may be going through right now, you have done what was asked of you and more and will continue to do so by looking after Nora and Fiona. Anyone in their right mind can see the support you give them, especially Nora. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Gray.”
But I can’t help but beat myself up. It comes from years of thinking that everything I touch turns to dust—that everything I plan on doing in life will fail. The only thing I know I’ve accomplished and worked fucking hard for is Hot Tuna, but that doesn’t mean doubt isn’t in the back of my mind.
“I don’t want to fail her, Mark.”
“Gray, have you not seen the look in her eyes when she’s with you? The smile on her face even? She’s crazy over you. You’d never fail her.”
“I’m crazy about her, too.”
“She has a big heart for the pint-sized thing that she is.”
I smile. “And she’s also got the lungs of a lioness on her. We don’t argue often, but Jesus, she’s a pocket rocket of fire when she gets going. And it only makes me love her more.”
Mark chuckles. “There is something about a feisty woman. I have one myself.”
“Charlie has to be feisty living with your untamed ass.”
“Cheeky fucker.”
I laugh. It’s the first time I’ve laughed and felt this carefree in days. The stress has weighed me down more than I’ve realized. “Thanks, man. I didn’t realize how much I needed this today.”
He raises his hands. “Not just a pretty face.”
“No, you’re also a smug fucker, too.”
“Well, I aim to please.” He grins. Standing from his chair he heads to the door. “Right, I’m out. Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and you might want to give your girl a call. Last thing I heard she was headed out shopping with my daughter, and that’s never a good sign.”
I frown. “How is it a bad sign?”
“Because Makenna tricked me into handing over my fucking credit card.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly. I’ll no doubt be bankrupt by noon. That girl has no control over her fashion fetish.”
“Well, if you need a job, I’ve just fired one of my staff.”
“Excellent. I’ll start Monday. Make sure I get a sexy little pinny to wear.”
“I’m on it.” I grin as he heads out of the office.
Sitting back in my chair, I think back to our conversation, wondering if Asher will ever wake up and realize what trap he has fallen into, open up about the loss of Pete and admit he is struggling and has been for a long time. His troubles go a lot deeper, and I’m convinced it all begins with his years spent as a SEAL. I thought it before he left and it’s why I questioned it, told him to get help. But things like that are never easy for them to hear, and even harder to accept. Meanwhile, it frustrates those who have to sit back and watch it all unfold.
Glancing at the photo of Nora that I have on my desk, I get the urge to hear her voice and decide to give her a call.
“Hey, handsome.”
“Shortcake. I’ve just had a certain Mr. Dixon here stressing over his credit card.”
She laughs, and it’s like music to my ears. I’ve not heard that sound in a while, so deep and natural. “Tell him not to worry. It never made it into Makenna’s wallet in the end. Charlie took it instead.”
“Are you having fun?”
She hesitates for a moment. “You know what, I am. I’ve not had this much fun in a while, other than when I’ve been with you of course, but Makenna is making sure there’s a smile on my face.”
“I won’t have her miserable, Gray. I forbid it,” Makenna shouts down the other end of the phone, causing me to chuckle.
“Glad to hear it.”
“We’ll soon be done here. I’ll make sure we stop by the bar before we head home,” Nora says.
“Looking forward to it.”
“Oh, you should be. I may or may not have something a little sexy in my bags.”
I growl, already wanting to be home and have her in the bedroom. “What color is it?”
“You’ll have to wait and see but it’s super sexy.”
“You’ll be the death of me, Shortcake.”
“Oh, for sure.” She laughs. “I better go, Makenna is calling me over. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
I hang up the phone, a smile now on my face knowing she is having a good time.
With a deep, satisfied exhale, I look down at the paperwork that has been tormenting me for hours, knowing I need to get it done before I’m distracted once more by the woman I love.
Placing my pen down, I lean back in my chair with a heavy sigh, running my fingers through my hair. Glancing at the clock on my desk, a smile tugs at my lips. Nora’s ‘I’ll be there soon’ was almost three hours ago.
Needing to stretch my body and leave the space of my office, I head out to the main bar in search for Ryan, needing to talk with him about finding a replacement for Lacy.
/> When I enter the bar, I scan the customers who are sitting socializing when my eyes land on Asher, who is sitting in a booth. Slumped over the table he twists his glass tumbler around with his hand.
Ryan comes up beside me. “He’s been here almost two hours and put more whiskey inside him than I can consume in a week.”
I sigh heavily. I shouldn’t be surprised. “Has he caused any trouble.”
“No, and surprisingly he’s asked about you.”
I look at Ryan. “He has?”
“Only if you were here. When I said you were out back doing paperwork, he just gave a nod. I think he was inquiring about your whereabouts because he wanted to know who you were with more than what you were doing. You going to talk to him?”
I want to. I need to. Because regardless of what has played out over time, I miss him. “I should. I’m just unsure. He’s unpredictable these days, and I’ve got my customers to think about.”
“Well, I’m here if you need me.”
Leaning over the edge of the bar, I watch Asher for some time. His shoulders are hunched as if the world is weighing him down. His face is full of sorrow as he continues to stare in the glass, and his eyes look like they carry so many troubles. Remorse once again becomes wedged in my chest, and I fucking hate it. We’ve always worked things out together, been by one another’s side when times have been tough, and it fucking kills me that we’ve drifted this far apart. I just want to be there for my friend and him be here for me. I want my girl to have her brother back.
“If you’re going to continue giving me the eye as you have been, at least do it whilst bringing me a drink.” Asher says, not looking at me. “I’ll have the same again. Make it two.”
Despising the fact I’m feeding his habit, I pour him two separate whiskeys and head over to his booth. “Mind if I join you?”
“I’m only talking to you because you’re a bartender. Serving me is your job. If you think I’m here so we can kiss and fucking make up, then you can think again.”
