I Hope You Find Me

by Trish Marie Dawson

  The most I had spent on alcohol was a $30 bottle of wine I bought as a gift a few years back for a friend. I couldn’t even properly read the names on the label. I would never admit that to Connor though.

  “Try it, you might like it.” He filled nearly a quarter of one glass and put only a shot in the second and pushed it across the counter to me. I picked it up and was surprised at the weight of the tumbler. I brought the glass to my nose and inhaled. Connor smiled as he took a sip of his own drink.

  “It smells sweet.” I downed the tiny amount in my glass and thought I had survived it but the smooth citrusy fluid that first touched my tongue became a burn that rushed down my throat like lava. I very indecently choked out a gagged cough. “Oh my god!”

  Connor rocked back on his heels and laughed. He took another sip and set his glass down. He popped open a can of soda and handed it to me, “This will help.”

  I took a few large gulps of soda before asking him, “Is there liquorice in that?!”

  “Very good.” He laughed.

  I stuck my tongue out at him, “I hate liquorice…that was nasty.”

  “Guess that just leaves more for me.” He winked and walked away with his glass.

  “I think I’ll go downstairs with Mariah later and look for some wine, because that…” I pointed with exaggeration at the bottle of Irish Whiskey sitting alone on the pretty marble counter top that probably had some fancy Italian name I couldn’t pronounce, “…would kill me.”

  Connor began to laugh so hard his face turned red and for the first time, I saw him cry. I chucked an apple at him that had been sitting in a floral shaped metallic bowl by the sink but it missed him and grazed the coffee table instead. Zoey ran after it and chased it around the sitting room like a ball. Connor was still laughing through his tears when I retreated to my room to change into a pair of jeans.

  I vowed to get him back later in the evening. I considered dangling him upside down from one of the windows but that required too much upper body strength.

  While I yelled at him from my room, I hopped into my jeans, “Be careful, you have to sleep sometime!” I giggled despite myself, even though my pride was slightly bruised, it felt good to laugh. Maybe a bottle of Moscato was exactly what I needed.

  ***

  “Well, you came baring gifts.”

  I hated to be even the slightest bit kind to Matt, but there he was standing before me with flowers in one hand and a shiny gold box wrapped with a wide brown ribbon in the other. The flowers looked like they were from one of the flower beds that surrounded the palm trees out front and I was a little leery of what was in the box. He handed both to me, and I stepped aside, giving him and Mariah space to enter the suite. Mariah smiled at me and gently put her hand on my arm as she passed by.

  “It smells great in here!” Mariah followed her nose into the kitchen and asked permission to peek inside the simmering pot on the stove.

  “Hope you don’t mind pasta.” I said to her with a smile. I set the mysteriously wrapped box on the counter, and put the flowers inside a large drinking glass. I set the arrangement in the middle of the small dining table that was in between the kitchen and sitting area. There were orange and red carnations and a yellow daisy. I wondered if Matt had picked them, or if Mariah had made the selection.

  Matt noticed the bottle of expensive malt whiskey sitting on the counter and pointed at it, “That’s not there for decoration, is it?”

  Connor had already set out extra tumblers and poured a glass for Matt and offered Mariah some. Thankfully for me, she passed.

  “Great! This means hopefully someone else will drink wine with me?” I said in a joking manner.

  After Mariah agreed to raid the hotel bar with me in search for wine, we left the boys and took Zoey on the elevator ride downstairs. We made it to the nineteenth floor before Mariah blurted out, “Oh my god, Riley, Connor is just gorgeous!”

  She looked juvenile in that moment, standing before me in a fashionably short black dress with a light pink sweater so tight around her tiny middle I was sure it was cutting off circulation to her legs. Her curly hair bounced off her shoulders as she danced on her toes, tightly squeezing her hands together. She had ‘Sorority Girl’ written all over her but she seemed a bit old for that phase of college. Her joyful personality also seemed out of place considering the circumstances, and I wondered if she was still going through the denial stage.

  I smiled and said simply, “He’s okay.”

  She stopped bouncing and grabbed both my arms. With a very serious look on her face she asked me, “Have you slept with him yet?”

  I was dumbfounded. Of all the people that could have stumbled our way through the city, we wound up with two horny siblings.

  “No…of course not. I’ve known him less than a week, Mariah.” I shifted so she would loosen her grip on me.

  “Are you serious? You’ve seen him, right?” She stared at me, wide-eyed. We were obviously not speaking the same language.

  I sighed deeply and tried my best to not let my irritation show. “I’ve seen him, yes. I’ve also seen a couple hundred dead people since last week.” I looked at her, and she reddened in the face.

  “I’m sorry. I know. It’s awful.” She stepped back from me and the rest of the ride down to the lobby was silent. I felt slightly bad at hurting her feelings, but as the doors opened up into the dark main floor, the image of the shirtless man out front earlier took over my thoughts and I stared carefully into every shadow…afraid he might jump out at any second.

  After I let the dog relieve herself outside, we found the wine stash. I grabbed two bottles of Moscato and Mariah grabbed two bottles of champagne. What we had to celebrate, I wasn’t sure, but at that moment I realized that I was most likely going to drink those two bottles of wine myself anyway.

  ***

  All of us were laughing, draped across the sofas with drinks in our hands as Mariah did an encore performance of her best drunk runway walk through the sitting room. She was actually quite good until she turned…she wobbled her hips like she was balancing an invisible hula-hoop as she stuck her arms out and flapped like a bird to keep her balance.

  We laughed even harder when she insisted she wasn’t drunk with her cheeks flushed pink and her slightly round nose scrunched up in defiance. She pointed her slender finger at Connor and plopped down next to him on the sofa and took a sip from his glass. Connor had pulled various bottles of alcohol out of the cupboard, so I had no idea what was in that glass but I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to mix too well with the bottles of champagne Mariah had finished on her own. The wrapped box Matt gave me was sitting on the coffee table torn open with half its chocolate contents missing.

  “So, what's your hidden talent?” Her words were slurred and she leaned into Connor as she drank from his glass.

  I watched Connor shift his position so he was facing Mariah and smiled at her. She had one of her bare arms resting loosely around his shoulders. I didn’t like what I saw, at all.

  He laughed and said, “Not sure it’s a hidden talent, but I can play ‘Freebird’ on the guitar.”

  “You lie.” I said to him with a chuckle.

  His face went serious and for a second I thought I insulted him. “We’ll just have to find us a guitar.”

  “So you can butcher Lynyrd Skynyrd? Sorry, I can’t allow that.” I said to him with a laugh.

  He tossed a pillow cushion at me and it bounced to the floor, its clear sequins spraying prisms of light along the ceiling tiles above us. We all laughed again until Mariah asked, “What’s Freebird?”

  “What?!” Connor and I both said it at the same time and looked at Matt who raised his hands in the air defensively.

  “You’ve never heard ‘Freebird’?” I couldn’t believe it.

  “No, who’s Lenny Skinny?” She looked perplexed, and hiccupped.

  I looked at Mariah like she had three heads.

  “Matt! Please tell me you’ve heard of classic rock?�
� Connor was sitting upright, his hands in the air while Mariah picked up his tumbler once more and drank freely from it.

  “What’s classic rock?” Matt said innocently, and Mariah cursed at him and pillows were flying through the air again.

  Matt insisted if we had a piano, he could play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star with his feet. We all agreed through fits of giggles we were happy with the fact that there was no piano nearby for him to prove that claim.

  “That leaves you.” Matt said to me.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I played dumb.

  “Oh come on now.” He said as he rose from his seat and plopped down next to me. “Surely you have a hidden talent you can share with the group.” He leaned in close to me and playfully tugged at the hair tucked behind my ear. I tilted my head away from him even though his smell was enticing and his body felt warm against me and the darkness that filled his eyes penetrated me.

  I lifted my glass to my lips and smiled sweetly at him, hoping he didn’t pick up on my unease. “I have many talents, most of which you will surely never see.”

  Connor whooped and Matt threw a glare in his direction, and reached for my glass.

  “Refill?” He asked me.

  “Just a little.” I handed it to him. I watched him walk away in his too-tight jeans and even tighter shirt. I decided I liked the back view of him much more than the front. I conceded he was a bit more attractive when I was buzzed on wine. But he was still an asshole when he opened his mouth. He returned with my glass filled nearly to the top. “That’s way too much!” I gushed.

  He sat down next to me again, so close our thighs were touching. I looked from his leg up to Connor, who was eyeing Matt coolly. He had control of his drink again and with one swig finished the last of it. His tumbler made a hollow clunking sound when he set it on the table a bit too hard. He settled deep into the cushions and propped his feet on the table. Mariah had curled into the corner of the sofa and began to doze.

  For a short while the three of us just sat quietly while I sipped my wine and Matt nursed his own drink. He broke the silence and the light-hearted conversation from before took on a more somber tone.

  “What if Mariah and I didn’t head up north right away?” He was looking at Connor when he asked the question but then turned to me and flashed a toothy smile. He put his arm up along the back of the sofa, making the space between us diminish and I didn’t like it. Matt’s smiles seemed forced to me, and his stares almost predatory. A warning shiver ran up my spine and I remembered how uncomfortable he made me before.

  “Huh?” I was sure I hadn’t heard him right.

  “You know, I’ve yet to hear what your plans are.” His voice was lower, softer, but it didn’t hide the sharpness of his gaze.

  I blinked at him and then blinked at Connor. My head was fuzzy from the wine; the room seemed smaller and warmer than it was minutes before. As I bent forward to set my glass on the coffee table, Matt lowered his arm from the sofa and rested his hand on my lower back, just above the waistband of my jeans. Connor made a move to get up but I bolted from Matt’s hand before he noticed the red flush that had crept up Connor’s face.

  I stood, uneasy with the friction that had started weighing down the air and attempted to form a solid yet simple answer for Matt that wouldn’t include the details of what little planning Connor and I had made.

  “What’s wrong with this place?” I gestured around me. “If we kept the generators going, I’m sure we could stay here a long time.” I looked at Connor and he was watching only Matt.

  Matt stood and faced me. “What about family, don’t you have anyone that you want to find?”

  My voice was flat when I answered, “My family is dead.” I tried to move around Matt to take my glass to the kitchen but he stepped in front me of me, blocking my path.

  “Excuse me.” I tried to push past him but he gripped my arm. I staggered back a step in surprise.

  “So what, you want to die here too - with him?” He tightened his hold on me and I gasped at the uncomfortable pressure in my upper arm.

  Connor was instantly on his feet. “Let go of her.” He kept his eyes on Matt as he maneuvered around the table behind me.

  When I yanked away from Matt he put his arms up. “It’s okay, I get it.” He said with a forced smile on his face.

  “No, you don’t.” Connor moved in front of me, putting himself between me and Matt. I slowly set my glass down on the table without taking my eyes off the two of them.

  He snorted and looked over Connor’s head at me. “What exactly is the deal here? We wouldn’t be here at all if you hadn’t left that note. Obviously you wanted someone else to find you, so why stay with this asshole?”

  Connor moved at him and Matt squared his quarterback sized shoulders. His voice was low and threatening, “Man, I can snap you in half, don’t even try it.”

  “It’s time for you to go.” I could see the muscles in the back of Connor’s arms tighten as he spoke.

  “Or what, you’ll call the police?” Matt sneered.

  Zoey had picked up on the change of vibe and was standing on all fours, watching us. I knew I had to do something before fists and possibly fur started flying.

  “Matt, you should go to Nevada with Mariah, to find your family.” I had backed up so that I could walk around the sofa and approach them from the side. “You can take whatever you need, there’s plenty here to share.”

  He glanced at me quickly and then at his sister, who was fully asleep. He said to me, anger creeping into his voice, “We don’t need more shit. And you know Nevada is as dead as this place.”

  “So what do you want?” I asked him, frustrated.

  “I thought that was obvious?” He winked at me. And that’s when Connor hit him.

  The punch took him by surprise and he reeled backwards, stumbling over his own feet. He landed on the ground hard. He rolled onto his side, cursing and covering his face with both hands. Blood started to seep through his fingers and Connor stepped back, away from Matt’s thrashing feet.

  Zoey began barking madly, rushing back and forth between me and Connor, clearly confused. Matt had wobbled back up onto his feet, continuing to curse while I struggled to get a hold of Zoey’s collar. She stood next to me, shaking and whining.

  Mariah pushed herself up and looked around the room. “Matt?”

  A guttural sound came from Matt as he lunged at Connor. Zoey rushed in between them barking wildly at Matt and nipping at his shoes. Mariah was on her feet, unsteady, and her eyes widened at the sight of Matt’s bloody face. He got one good swing in at Connor, striking him in the jaw before Zoey bit his leg. He howled and backed away, kicking at the dog. She forced him backwards to the kitchen area before I called for her to come to me. Mariah was crying and Connor was yelling for Matt to get out.

  I felt horrible for Mariah but I gently pushed her towards her brother and tried to tell her calmly to take him back to their room, that he was drunk. He was still cursing and yelling as they left, and the vibration of their door slamming shut down the hall shuddered through our suite.

  My entire body was shaking so badly I didn’t trust my legs to hold me so I went down to my knees and hugged Zoey to my chest to calm us both, telling her over and over, good dog…good dog.

  Connor locked the bolt on the suite door and slowly crossed the room to me. Zoey approached him cautiously before rolling onto her side so Connor could rub her belly. He murmured to her in a soothing voice and when he looked up, he asked if I was okay.

  “Me? What about you?” I stared at his face, where the bruise was already forming on his jaw. I reached up and touched the spot gingerly. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. He barely grazed me.” He tried to smile. He lifted his hand and his knuckles were swollen and red.

  “I’ll get you some ice.” I stood and went into the kitchen, and wrapped a few ice cubes in a clean dish towel. He had moved to the sofa and Zoey had followed him. She looked at me anxiously
when I approached them with the makeshift ice-pack. I held the towel to his face first and he winced.

  “Matt’s a jerk.” I said to him, as I examined his knuckles with my free hand.

  “He’s dangerous.” He looked at me.

  I moved the towel to his hand. “Maybe.”

  “There’s nothing stopping anyone from doing or taking what they want now.” He paused, waiting for me to make eye contact. “You understand what that means for you, right? As a woman?”

  “I’m a big girl Connor; I can take care of myself.”

  “If it was just you and him in a locked room, would you really believe that?” He sounded angry.

  I sat back on my heels and looked up at the ceiling, feeling the alcohol buzz through me like a live wire. “We should get some sleep.” I let go of the towel and stood up. I walked to my room with Zoey at my feet and shut the door behind me quietly and I sat on the edge of the bed. A short time later I heard Connor’s door close loudly. I pulled my shirt over my head and stepped out of my jeans and went into the bathroom to wash my face before retreating to the bed and crawling under the covers.

  ***

  Connor sighed and rolled across the bed and peered into the darkness of the room, wondering if Riley was asleep or lying awake as he was. He could hear a low humming sound beyond the closed door, coming from the kitchen area…the fridge, he supposed. The rest of the suite was silent. The air still felt heavy from tension, and it was unusually cold.

  He grimaced when he shoved his hand under the pillow, the swelling around his knuckles made it hard to close his hand. He felt like an idiot. Fighting over a girl he couldn’t claim as his own. The night had been so cheerful for all of them, and he had to blow it by letting that ass get under his skin. Even now, the memory of Matt’s hand on her back, the way he looked at her and watched her, it threatened to unhinge his every nerve. He couldn’t stand the sight of him touching her.

  Twice, he threw the blankets off and got out of bed, intending on marching into her room to apologize for the way the night ended but both times he turned around and tumbled back onto the mattress, not sure he could apologize for hitting Matt, because for that, he definitely wasn’t sorry.