I grab the bottle, twist off the cap, and without thinking any more about it, I bring it to my lips, inhale the dark smell, and take a drink. It burns and corrodes my throat with the deep, rich taste of a soon blacked-out mind. The only thing I got is booze to pull the sting out of my skin.
One more long swig sends my head reeling. Anger coursing through me faster than the alcohol. My brain is exhausted. My body drained. And yet here I am, succumbing to my addiction over a woman I can’t have right now.
I’m so Goddamn tired of the sob story that’s become my life. Damn it; I was doing well. Thought I had this under control. Lied to my dad by telling him I was working through my problem when he called to tell me he was making a trip out here to see how I was doing. Even told him Maria and I were getting along.
“Son of a bitch!” I shout.
My arms slide out and sweep everything off my desk. The bottle smashing all over the floor. I’ve finally lost it. Taken the last step to seal my fate of free-falling out of control.
“Motherfucker.” I stand, kick my chair hard enough it slams into the window. I shove at my desk, muscles straining in my arms as I grip the edge and flip it over with ease. The thud ringing in my ears does something to soothe my soul. It turns me ravaged. Makes me crave to create all kinds of havoc.
My thoughts of Maria with another man are pushed into the dark corners of my mind. Right where they need to be. My real issue takes a bow as it hits center stage. I will never be whole again until I learn to accept that what I’ve done isn’t going to undo itself.
“Jesus, son, what the hell are you doing?” I take a step back, lift my head to see my dad and Justice standing in my doorway. My heart fails to take a few beats when I look at my cousin. Tears are welling in her eyes. She’s visibly shaking. The coward in me isn’t strong enough at the moment to tip my eyes to my dad. There’s not a doubt in my fucked-up mind he’ll have his forehead crinkled. Brows drawn together and his hands outstretched to lend me a hand. He’s not what I need this time. Don’t really know what I need right now. All I do know is, I don’t need booze to ruin my life.
“I need help. Can’t do this on my own,” I admit.
Hell, even saying those words relieve the intense pressure pushing down on my chest. It’s one Goddamn step closer to redemption.
“I should have asked for help when you first confronted me, Dad. Thought I had it handled. Far from it. I haven’t taken a drink in weeks. Lost the girl I thought would end up being my world. She looked at me the way Mom does at you. Same way Justice looks at Liam. Like I’m the Goddamn only person she sees. No judgment whatsoever on her gorgeous face. I’m a wreck. Lost and need help finding my way back.” I tap the top of my head. “I have no doubt I’ve lost her. Before she ever entered my life, I lost myself. Can’t give her all of me if I don’t know where all of me is anymore.”
Listening to myself talk feels like my throat is catching on fire. Never in my life would I have thought I’d end up pissing a good life away over something that had to be done.
“Let me take you back to New York. We’ll get you the help you need.”
See, that right there is how my dad is. Always the man to the rescue. Always has his eyes peeled wide open. The guy probably had whoever he had watching me tell him I’ve spent the last several days since I walked out on Maria sitting outside of several different bars. The devil himself speaking in both my ears. Daring, probing me to get out and take a step in. But by the grace of a hand I never thought would help me, I started my car, drove here, and worked my fingers to the bone. How I managed not to fuck up my job beats the hell out of me.
“Not sure if going home with you is the right thing for me. I hate to go anywhere when we're in season. Justice needs me here.”
My brain fries up knowing what I just said is a piss-poor excuse when seconds ago I admitted I need help. This job, though, the guilt I have of leaving Justice is a trigger flicking the fire fueling my brain. I’m not proud of who I am right now. Failed my parents to become the warrior they raised me to be.
“I don’t need your help, Alex. I need you. I want my best friend to come back to me. You didn’t have me fooled. I know you were trying to save me from seeing how much you were hurting. I’ve been around as long as you. I’ve seen the fear of becoming someone you weren’t born to be staring back at me more times than I care to remember. You took a step forward by telling us the real man you are. What happened was not your fault. I can’t take away what’s clawing away at you. If I recall, those were the exact words you told me when I came to you all those years ago and trusted you with my fears. No one can reach inside of you and pull out the pain if you don't let us. I don’t want you here, Alex. I’ve stood by and watched you spiral out of control into a man I don’t recognize.”
I hear her loud and clear. Doesn’t pull the guilt of leaving her out of me, yet at the same time her words ease my worry.
Something shifts in the air right then. A whistling sound streams in from the hallway. Familiar footsteps are drawing closer. I know those steps in my sleep. My buddy Diesel Hughes.
I should find it funny he’s the one coming to save my ass at work when he hates football about as much as I do baseball.
“The fuck happened in my new office? You best be picking this shit up before you leave, or I’ll be forced to beat your ass the way my dad did.” The beast of a man with a charming smile cocks his arm back and sends a football whizzing past my head. I duck just in time.
“Is that what Aidan told you? Best be having a talk with your old man, Diesel. I might be a little fucked up. But if my memory serves me right, you called me when he got home to tell me your mom made him go get his face stitched up. Take that Detroit Tigers shirt off, fuckhead. This is football. You know, the brown leather thing you tossed liked a pussy,” I growl but can’t help the hint of a smile that tugs at my lips. “And this isn’t your office, fucker. It’s mine.”
“Not anymore.” Diesel flashes his gaze toward my dad.
This little family intervention makes perfect sense and couldn’t have come at a better time. I shake my head, a laugh escaping my mouth. The mystery of how my dad can figure out shit is going to happen before it does will never cease to make me wonder if he doesn’t have those super powers I used to think he had when I was a kid. Always one step ahead when the going gets rough for someone he loves.
“It better be exactly how I leave it when I get back.”
“Got it.” Diesel runs his hand through his messy hair. “I’ll flip your desk on its side before you return and trash it up a bit.”
“Smartass.” I shake my head. “You know what I mean.”
Pulling my shoulders back, I look at my dad. He’s got his all too familiar I got your back look on his face. The first time I’m grateful for him having me followed. Wish it didn’t come to me seeing one of my closest friends flying all the way out here to save the fucking day. Trust the man with my life, though.
Christ, I miss him. Diesel is as big as a fucking house. Built exactly like his dad. Big, burly, and scary as hell.
“Get the fuck out of my office and take care of your shit, man. I got this for as long as you need. Just come back, Alex. Come back and fix everything.”
I shift my gaze between Diesel and Justice. The three of us have always been a team. Kind of like how my dad is with Cain, Aidan, and Dilan. Nothing will stand in the way of us having each other's backs. We are the next generation of the empire. Our parents have paved the way, allowing each of us to take advantage of what we enjoy. The mere thought empowers me even more to fight for me and get this shit out of my head.
For a brief moment, I freeze when I catch my dad’s eye. His gaze is darting over me like the good man he is, the one who came out here to take care of what’s his. He’s telling me I’m his son. Flesh and blood. Bone to bone. And I haven’t let anyone down but me. Even though I feel the guilt twine around my legs, ready to drag me down when weakness knocks the air out of my lungs. At the end of
the day, I’ll get back up again until I’m standing tall, especially with my family there to catch me.
Knowing all of this, I bend down and pick up the football, toss it back to Diesel, walk toward them, hug Justice, and let my dad sling his outstretched arm around me.
Worry and doubt twist my gut when we drive away. I’ll be coming back the man Maria deserves me to be. Something inside of me tells me it will be too late. The thing is, I don’t like the person who looks back at me in the mirror. I’m a better man than that. I deserve to be healthy again, and with a little luck mixed in, I may get the girl in the end.
14
Maria
My worn guitar rests in front of me like a shield of protection against my turbulent heart. It took me two weeks after seeing Alex in the bistro to get back up on the stage. Once I did, I let all the emotions and anger flow from me in the form of singing. That night, I sang until exhaustion took over. The bar was silent by the time I exited the stage. And strangely enough, the violent storm of confusion quieted inside me. At least for a little while.
Since then, I’ve taken the stage every shift. Sometimes it’s just one song; others, I push myself until my throat runs dry. It’s my therapy. The place I feel calm and grounded. It’s the one time I can allow my mind to wander.
It’s been over a month since I last saw him, and oddly enough, I still have him on my mind every day. It’s a brutal cycle of wondering where he is, what he’s doing. How he is. At first, I worried he’d moved back to New York, and within a matter of days, Lexi goes off about the two of them. How he says he’s never stepping foot back in here again. Of course, the wicked little liar doesn’t say it to my face. She makes sure I’m within earshot when she tells her twiddly-dee-follow-me-around-girlfriend who Lexi promises to set up with Alex’s brother the next time he’s in town. How the woman can fabricate such a crock full of shit-eating lies beats me. But whatever. There’s not a thing I can do about her fantasy full of lies.
The thought of never seeing him again crushes my spirit. It hurts, and as silly as it sounds, because let’s face it here, we weren’t exactly a couple engaging in our undying love to one another, but the truth is, I’d give anything to have him walk through the door right now just so I can see he’s okay.
Some days when I think about him, my thoughts are happy. Well, and other days, I wish the last memories I have of him weren’t painful. They’ve eaten away at me. I suppose now I need to get a grip, realize he’s gone from my life, and wish him to be happy and healthy wherever life has taken him.
I’ve thought about him so much that at times, I find myself screaming into my pillow, tears falling hard down my face. We might not ever see each other again, but the thought of him drinking again is too much for me. He deserves better than drowning in alcohol. He might not think he does, but I do. There’s a good man underneath the darkness. A decent man I could have easily fallen in love with. I would have taken his beautiful, broken heart and everything that came with it. A heart I see right through. I was halfway there. Still am, if I’m honest.
The thing is, I’m not going to give myself completely to someone with a barrier as deep as it is long and wide as it is high.
I sigh. I should have told him that instead of flying off the handle like some hormonal teenage girl.
I end the song, wink at my friends, and stop to think how far I’ve come in this past month. I need to put Alex behind me. Be happy with what I have and let go of something that was never mine to begin with.
“Alright, this is my last one.” I adjust my guitar. “As always, thanks for indulging me.”
“It ain’t a hardship, sweet thang.” A voice echoes out through the bar, followed by a chorus of cheers and applause. I don’t have to look to see Lance is egging them on. Trying to embarrass me seems to be his thing. It never works.
I’ve learned to ignore catcalls like those. I’ve grown into myself over the last month, embracing college and meeting new friends. I begin strumming the first chords to Norah Jones’ “Come Away With Me,” all thoughts vanishing into the soulful words. Before I close my eyes to pour everything into it, I spot Lance with his hands tucked in his pockets, leaning back against the bar. A smile on his face.
The sight warms me. He’s become one of my best friends. After lunch at the bistro, we discovered we have a lot in common. Both from small towns, a tight family, and love for adventure. He’s been my saving grace. But that’s all there is to us. A friendship, a bond I’ve grown to cherish.
The crowd at the bar rises to their feet, clapping in appreciation. After every set, I find an inner peace that floats over me. I thank God for it as I exit the stage and head for the back room. These moments of silence ground and exhilarate me at the same time. It’s the high every adrenaline junkie craves.
I walk back out into the bar readying myself for the last hour of my shift. Chills fly up my arms, sending a freezing sensation through my body. There’s a fast-flowing current wrapping around me. It’s a familiar one, yet one I can’t seem to place. I fight to shake it clear from my head as I step behind the bar, wrap my apron around me, and grab a bottle of water.
“We aren’t done yet,” a voice announces through the microphone.
I glance up to see Lance with a shit-eating grin on his face and his friendly eyes aimed at me. Great, what the hell is he up to?
“You may not know this, but it seems we have a birthday girl in our mix tonight.” He winks at me.
I bury my face in my palms as the patrons hoot and holler. I’m going to kill him for this. My face burns with hot, flaming embarrassment. He promised me he’d find a way to embarrass the shit out of me. I guess he did.
“You see, my girl, Maria, has a birthday coming up next week. The big twenty-one. I’m going to be out of town and unable to spoil her as she deserves. So, guess what, sweet cheeks?” He pauses. “SURPRISE!”
A three-tier cake with colorful music notes adorning all sides appears in front of me. Ava is carrying a bouquet of balloons in every shade and hue. Scott trails her with an armful of bright-colored packages.
Peaches joins Lance on stage, taking the microphone from him. He pokes and prods at her, giving her hell. The two of them became fast friends, since they are both naturally born smartasses. They are also deceiving little shits. All my friends are for doing this. I’m not surprised, though. They’ve picked me up when I was down without knowing the reason why. Lance knows about Alex. As much as I was willing to tell him. The drinking part is not my story to tell. And he knows because I came clean with him when I felt he wanted something more from me. That’s what started our trustful friendship, and now I’ve gotten the role of wing chick.
“My beautiful girl.” She raises her glass. “I was there the day you were born, and I’ve watched you grow into a stunning woman with drive and ambition. Makes this old fart’s heart happy to see you surrounded by good friends and living out your dreams.”
Glasses are raised, and the echoes of cheers serenade the bar. I grab a bottle of water and raise it. I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since the last time I saw Alex. The desire to taste it makes me ill.
Scott kicks off singing Happy Birthday. The man is tone deaf and can’t carry a note to save his life. I find myself smiling and tearing up seeing all my friends surrounding me. The embarrassment is long forgotten.
Another round of cheers erupts in the bar once the song is over. Peaches wastes no time lighting the candles on the cake, resulting in another singing round. I close my eyes. I don’t have to think twice about my wish. I’ve never believed in birthday wishes coming true. Right now, I believe with my entire core because something breaks inside of me. If I can’t get him out of my head or my heart after a month, then our story can’t be over. It just can’t.
“What did you wish for?” Ava nudges me in the side.
I shake my head. “Can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”
“You all know she wished for me to become her boyfriend.” Lance slings his
arm around my shoulders.
Peaches swats at his ass, telling him to get out from behind the bar. He doesn’t listen, giving my shoulders a jerk.
Ava, Scott, and I laugh at Lance. It didn’t take long for Lance to realize my heart wasn’t in the game. He didn’t get pissed or push me out of his life. Instead, we became fast friends. It was only a matter of a week after our talk about Alex before he set his sights on other girls. Lance isn’t quite a manwhore but does have a ferocious appetite when it comes to women.
“Presents!” Ava announces. We move from the privacy of the bar to the middle and settle in at a long table.
Lance grabs a narrow box and hands it to me. It’s the worst wrapping job I’ve ever seen in my life. I think a toddler blindfolded could’ve done a better job.
“From me.” He pats his chest with pride, leans over the table, and places a kiss on my cheek.
I shake my head and rip away the paper. I’m not one of those who delicately peel the paper away. Hell no, I love presents. Always have. A white box is left in my hand. I pull away the lid to see a silver and white gold Michael Kors watch.
“Lance.” My eyes grow wide in astonishment. “It’s beautiful.
He leans over and whispers in my ear. “So you won’t be late for study group anymore.”
“Thank you.” My fingers shake as I fumble to get the watch out.
“Anything for the best wing chick in the world.” He pecks my cheek again, then settles back in his chair.
After the watch is securely on my wrist, I begin tearing into the rest of the packages. Ava and Scott gave me a huge basket filled with highlighters, notepads, and office supplies. It’s one of my crazy addictions.
“Here’s mine.” Peaches hands over an envelope.
I tear into it right away. It takes me a second to realize what the paper is. My eyes fill with tears at the sight of the airline vouchers.
“So you can go home next week on fall break and celebrate with your family,” she announces. “Two vouchers. One for you and a friend.”
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