by K. A. Linde
I peeled out of the parking lot of The Shack and sped toward Flips. I hadn’t been in a bar since that night I was with Julia at the dueling piano bar downtown. I used to live in them.
Maybe I should have been worried that it felt like coming home.
But all I felt was relief as the group of us entered the favorite local bar.
A large group of guys that I recognized from work, the gym, and college called, “Surprise!”
Patrick laughed and moved to the center of the festivities. We were herded together. Beers were handed to us. Shots on trays appeared. Everything started to turn into a blur. Just a haze of alcohol like I hadn’t had in a long time. Even Patrick and Landon seemed to have had enough that they were retreating back into that time before. Back when this had been my life.
The next thing I knew, we were walking up to the bar like fools.
“Peter,” I said, tipping my head at the bartender.
“Wright.”
I always thought he called me that because he couldn’t or didn’t want to tell us apart.
“Three rounds of Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
Peter’s eyebrows rose high. “All right, man.”
“It’s Patrick’s birthday,” I said, clapping my best friend on the back.
Peter poured out the drinks, and I passed over my credit card to pay for it all. As a drink, the Four Horsemen was a hot fucking mess. As a shot, it was worse.
One shot Jim Beam. One shot Jack Daniel’s. One shot Johnnie Walker. One shot Jameson. And then Bacardi 151 poured over the line of shots and set on fire.
“Fuck,” Landon said.
“This is going to be fucking awesome,” Patrick said. “Take a picture!”
He passed over his phone to Peter, who begrudgingly accepted it. I could tell he hated that request. But who fucking cared? It was one picture.
Once the three of us were lined up, Peter struck a match and touched it to the end of the line. One by one, the shots went up in flames until all were ignited. I slung an arm over Landon’s and Patrick’s shoulders and grinned as Peter snapped a shot.
Then, we tipped back shot after shot.
Jim Beam went down harsh. Jack Daniel’s was a little smoother. Johnnie Walker was like heaven. And, by Jameson, I could hardly taste it at all.
I eased back into a seat as the burn from the liquor coated my stomach. Finally. There it was. There was that feeling I’d been missing. Numb.
This would be good. I used to drink way more than this without it even touching me. I was fine. I was celebrating after all.
My thoughts felt hazy. Everything was funny. I felt good. Really fucking good. God, I’d forgotten how good I could feel.
I moved forward, back to Patrick’s side, and nearly stumbled right into Evan. “Fuck, man. Sorry.”
Evan put out a hand and steadied me. “You look fucked up, dude.”
I laughed. “I feel fucked up.”
“Maybe you should slow down.”
I passed him the beer in my hand. I’d only had a sip. “Take my beer.”
Evan shook his head and laughed. “Patrick, I think you got Austin past the point of no return.”
Patrick turned to look at me, but I was sure he was seeing double. “Fuck, man. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to let this happen.”
“Ah, come on! It’s your fucking birthday!”
A vibration came from my pocket. I jerked the phone out and promptly dropped it. I picked it up and cursed violently at the shattered screen.
“Hello?” I called into the phone when I saw Jules’s name on the phone.
“Austin Wright,” Julia said in a serious tone, “are you drunk?”
“What gives you that idea?”
“Besides the slur?” she growled.
“I’m not slurring.”
“What about the picture Patrick posted of you guys doing four flaming shots at Flips? Was that a Four Horsemen?”
“Maybe.”
“Christ,” she spat. “I thought you guys were going out for dinner. Not going to the bar!”
“Babe, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“You’re on a bender! You went and got fucked up!” She sighed heavily into the phone and then was silent for a few seconds. “Should I come get you?”
“You don’t need to come get me.” I turned to Patrick and stuffed the phone in his hand. “Patrick, tell Jules that I’m totally fine.”
Patrick put the phone to his ear. “Hey, Julia. Yes. Yep. Uh-huh. Probably a good idea. Oh, I so am. It is my birthday. Yeah, I know. Sorry. Okay. Sure.” Patrick handed the phone back. “Uh, here you go.”
“Babe, see?”
“I’m fucking coming to get you.”
Then, she hung up on me.
I stared down at the phone in shock.
“What the hell did she say to you?” I asked Patrick.
“That I was irresponsible and a shitty friend. That I should have taken better care of you, and I should be glad that she wasn’t going to kick my ass.”
I sputtered into laughter. “She didn’t say that!”
Patrick shrugged. “Your girl is crazy. She’s perfect for you.”
I couldn’t deny that. Julia was the best fucking thing that had ever happened to me. I’d marry her right now if she wanted to do it. Course, she deserved so much more than no ring and a dirty bar.
“Hey, guys,” Evan said, reaching his hand out to Patrick. “I’m going to call it an early night. My girlfriend hates when I’m out late.”
“Ha!” I shook his hand. “That makes two of us.”
Evan laughed and then disappeared.
“She doesn’t hate when you’re out late. She hates when you drink,” Patrick corrected.
“Eh. Goes hand in hand.”
“You haven’t even fucking sang to me yet!”
“You do not want to hear me sing.”
“I already have!” Patrick said. “I think I still have Fiddler on the Roof on tape somewhere.”
“Fuck you!”
Patrick laughed. Landon appeared then in front of us. His eyes were wary, and he suddenly seemed much more sober than us.
“I just heard from Heidi. Looks like she’s on her way here,” he said. He cringed as he glanced between me and Patrick. “She’s going to chew me out for letting this happen.”
“It’s my birthday,” Patrick said with a shrug. “You need another drink, Landon.”
“I think we’re all cut off.”
“Hey, I’m not pussy-whipped by anyone. I can have as much as I fucking want,” Patrick said.
“Do you want to deal with Emery, Heidi, and Julia?” Landon asked with a pointed look.
“Bring it,” he said.
Landon shook his head and went to the front door to wait for the girls. It didn’t take long before they showed up at the bar. Heidi and Landon seemed to be having a heated argument at the front of the room, but eventually, they moved with Emery to the bar to talk with Peter. I knew Heidi was friends with the bartender. Plus, this was really her bar. She hustled pool here like a champ.
But it was Julia who caught my attention. She was in the skimpy dress I’d stripped her out of in the shower. And she looked hot as fucking hell. Christ, I wanted my dick in her so bad right now.
“Jules,” I said as she approached.
She sighed, looking resigned. “Come on, Austin. We should get you back to your place. Try to detox you again.”
“Babe, I’m fine.”
“Look, I’m not surprised that this happened. I figured it would happen at some point,” she said. “I’m just disappointed that it did.”
“Why the fuck are you disappointed? Because I’m here, celebrating my best friend’s birthday?”
“Not everyone has to get wasted to celebrate a birthday, Austin.”
“Yeah, well, I did.”
She narrowed her eyes in warning. “No, you didn’t. This is the addict talking right now. Not you.”
“What
the fuck would you know about it?”
She clenched her jaw. “Why are you trying to start an argument with me? Fuck, I haven’t missed this.”
“Come on. I know arguments get you hot.”
I ran my hand up her bare arm, and she shoved me off.
“Stop it,” she snarled. “I wanted you to go out and celebrate Patrick’s birthday. I thought dinner and some guy time would be good for you. I thought you would be responsible. After everything I told you, I knew you wanted a drink. I fucking knew it. You were doing so well.”
“Well? You think I was doing well? I was fucking drowning. Not drinking was killing me. I finally feel like my-fucking-self again.”
“So…when you’re with me, you don’t feel like yourself?” she asked, her tone low.
I should have heeded it, but the alcohol ignored it.
“I feel like the guy you want me to be. But, if I want a drink, then I should be able to have it without feeling guilty about it.”
Her eyes were hard…yet still sad. “You need help.”
“Fuck that noise!”
She didn’t even flinch. “You know how I know you need help? Because I’ve seen people just like you. I’ve seen my father just like you are right now. I’ve seen him get so wasted that he beat my mom. I dated a fucking drug dealer, Austin. I know what addiction looks like, and I know that this is a problem for you. I might not have been addicted to drugs or alcohol, but Dillon was as good as an obsession. I had nothing and no one! And I was strong enough to get out. You…” Her eyes traveled the length of me with deep pity. “You have everything and everyone, and still, you do nothing.”
She waited for my response, but I had none. What the hell could I say to that?
“I want to be here for you. I needed someone to be there for me, and they were. But I had to reach out. All you have to do is ask for help, to rely on someone, anyone. We would get you professional help. We could get you past this. But you can’t do that. You’d rather try to hide it. Try to bury it. All secrets come out in the end, Austin. Trust me, I know.”
Then, she turned on her heel and walked away from me. My head was swimming with her words. With the cruel indifference I’d flung at her.
Here was the perfect woman for me. Perfect in every single fucking way. And she was walking out the door.
If she left, then I knew she wasn’t just leaving the bar. She was leaving me.
I was running before I even finished the thought.
Twenty-Seven
Julia
What the hell had I been thinking? I had known what I was walking into. I had known that Austin would relapse. It was only a matter of time.
But the argument, the nonchalance, the entitlement.
I could be there for him. I could bring him back to the light. I could even see him through therapy or rehab. But, right now, he didn’t even care. He immediately defaulted to the douche that I’d sworn I’d never get back together with. The kind of guy I’d never, ever date. Because I knew what it felt like to be used, to be manipulated and abused. I was not going to go through that again.
Maybe, when he sobered up, Austin would feel differently about his drinking and our argument. But how long until it all happened again?
It hurt that I’d trusted him. I’d finally confided in him. He knew the danger I was facing. And, instead of having dinner with Patrick for his birthday, Austin had gotten smashed. There would have been nothing he could do if I’d needed him.
I didn’t deserve that.
That was why I’d put a stipulation on our date in the first place.
Austin was a better person when he was sober. But he was the only person who believed otherwise.
“Jules!” Austin called behind me.
But I kept walking. Straight out the front door of Flips.
I had just made it to my car when a hand clamped around my upper arm.
I screamed and jumped back. But the hand held.
And everything narrowed down to the moment when a body stepped out of the shadows by my car and materialized, fully formed, into a thing of nightmares.
“Dillon?”
“Hey, Jules,” he said with a lethal, manic smile.
My heart rate ratcheted up. My body trembled under his touch. I thought I was going to be sick. I couldn’t get my breathing under control. Everything was panic, panic, and more panic. My brain wasn’t firing on full cylinders.
How? How could this be happening to me?
“Wh-what are you doing here?” I gasped out.
“Came to get you back, baby girl.”
He ran the back of his hand down my cheek in an all-too familiar way. I shuddered at his touch and felt sick to my stomach.
“Dillon, you were in jail.”
He grinned. “Got out on good behavior.”
Of course he had. The bastard could charm a snake. No one had even believed me when I first came forward. Why would anyone believe his girlfriend of six years? And, even then, the sentence had hardly stuck. I’d been happy for anything to give me time to get away. I’d been desperate enough to testify against him.
“You’re shaking like a leaf,” he said. Then, he rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “You have to let me take care of you.”
Fear held me in place. I knew that I should jerk back. That I should be the woman I’d become in his absence. But, staring into his blue eyes and that mask of innocence he wore like a second skin, I became the girl who would never leave him.
“Please,” I whispered.
“Please what?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” he asked, his voice like a knife.
I swallowed hard. “This.”
Anger flashed in his eyes, but before he could respond, Austin finally reached me. Fear sparked in me.
No! I couldn’t let Austin near Dillon. I couldn’t let this happen. I knew what Dillon was capable of. I knew that the charges against him were the least of what he’d done. I would never forgive myself if Austin got hurt.
“Austin, no,” I said, stepping between him and Dillon.
“Evan?” Austin asked. He was breathing heavy, and he seemed totally disoriented. “I thought you left a while ago.”
“Yeah, I did, but it turned out, my girlfriend was going to show up anyway.”
I stared between Austin and Dillon with my mouth hanging open. A pit opened in the pavement, and I fell into it.
“No,” I whispered. “No, you didn’t.”
My eyes found Dillon’s. He gave me a perfectly blank, perfectly serene look.
“You must be Julia,” he said, holding his hand out to me. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
I swatted his hand away. “Stay away from me.”
“Jules, I know you’re pissed at me, but don’t take it out on Evan,” Austin said.
“This isn’t Evan!” I nearly shrieked. “I don’t even know who the fuck Evan is. This is Dillon.” I choked on my own words. “This is…it’s Dillon.”
The words hung in the air, waiting for someone to crack. For the facade to shatter and everyone to realize that the game was up. Whatever Dillon had been up to while infiltrating my life, making fucking friends with Austin, and otherwise being a psycho, it was over. His stalking of me was over.
“Dillon…like your ex-boyfriend?” Austin asked slowly.
“Yes.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You made me think that we were friends,” he demanded of Dillon.
“Aren’t we friends?” Dillon asked, as if he didn’t care about any of this.
“We went to the gym together three times a week. You said you moved here for your girlfriend,” Austin said in horror.
My stomach twisted. Oh, fuck!
“I am here for my girlfriend,” Dillon said possessively. “Seems you’ve met my Jules.”
“Julia, get behind me,” Austin said.
“Austin, no. Please, let’s just go. Don’t get into this with him,” I pleaded.
&n
bsp; Dillon laughed in Austin’s face. “What do you think you’re going to do? You’re drunk off your ass, man.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me like you know me.”
“I don’t need to know you. I know your type,” Dillon said. “Trust me, I know an addict when I see one. And you’re as bad as any of them. Too bad my girl walked right into your train wreck.”
“Dillon, stop it,” I spat.
“He doesn’t like to hear the truth? I’ve spent the last couple of weeks watching you. Wanted to find out if these Wrights were everything everyone had made them out to be. Every one of them is fucked up. This one, worst of all.” Dillon shook his head, like he was disgusted with the sight of Austin. He was a good actor. Always had been. “You think he’s been sober? He’s been drinking. Check his house. Check his car. Check his fucking gym bag. You think you’re his only girl? He spent the night at Maggie’s place. You think he cares about you? Just take a good look at him, Jules.”
I didn’t want to listen to Dillon. I knew what he was doing. I knew he was manipulating me and trying to turn me away from Austin. I was pretty sure I was the only person on the face of the planet who knew the real Dillon Jenkins. He never showed the insanity behind his bravado. Only to me.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from turning hurt, questioning eyes to Austin. Had Dillon been following him? Had he seen things that I hadn’t wanted to see? He might be using them to hurt us, but they could only hurt us if they were true.
“Is that true?” I asked. I clenched my hands into fists and waited.
“I…I, uh,” Austin said, stumbling over his words. “It’s not like he said it.”
“But…it’s true?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Did you stay at Maggie’s place?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I breathed out in a rush. “Fuck you, Austin.”
“It wasn’t like that! We weren’t together.”
“And that makes it better?” I shrieked.
“No. No, that’s not what I meant. Maggie wasn’t even there! Just Mindi.”
I shook my head. “God, Austin, are you hooking up with crazy butcher-knife Mindi now?”
