by Alison Mello
I shout out to absolutely no one, “Oh, now you want to talk? What the fuck!”
Yesterday I wasn’t good enough to listen to, but today it’s okay. Oh, fuck no. I pour half a glass of scotch and down half of it before I sit on my couch, turn the music on my surround sound radio on, and drink until I pass out.
***
Patty
I’m so mad that he won’t answer my calls. He texted me yesterday, angry that I wouldn’t talk to him, and now that I’m ready to talk he’s ignoring me. What the hell?
I look at the picture of us from the dinner one more time and start to do some research on PTSD. I’ve discovered that people with PTSD have nightmares after events that affect them either physically and or emotionally. The nightmares can lead to drinking and other problems.
I’m getting nervous, so I decide it’s time I work on my book. I’m on a roll and I don’t want to lose momentum now. I’m halfway through the chapter when I decide that I need to read what I’ve already written and then I can finish it. As I read, I make a few small changes. Now that I'm happy with what I've got, I continue writing the chapter I’m working on. I’m about to finish the next chapter when my phone chirps.
Bella: How are you doing today?
Patty: Pissed.
Bella: Why?
Patty: I tried to call Carter and text him and he won’t answer either.
Bella: Really?
Patty: Have you talked to Derek?
My phone rings. “Hello?”
“Why do you ask?” Bella says.
“Well, I’m curious if Carter went to work today.”
“I’ll call you back.”
She hangs up on me before I can respond. I open the e-file I need to sign for my agent. I’ve gone through the entire contract line by line, and I’m now happy with it. She tried to sneak a line in that said I had to have three chapters to her by a set date and I told her to remove it or I wouldn’t sign. I go through it again, initialing each page and signing the very last page so that I can send it off to the agent.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Patty. It’s Derek. I hope you don’t mind me calling you, but I’m a bit concerned about Carter. He called off of work sick today, and he won’t answer my calls. When Bella called me to tell me he isn’t answering yours either, it made me nervous.”
“Why? He’s obviously pissed off at me that I wouldn’t speak to him yesterday, so he’s probably throwing a tantrum. I don’t understand why he’s mad at me. I’m the one who caught him in a lip lock with another woman.”
“Patty, I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is a tantrum. He saw your mother laughing at him. I think she set him up.”
“Is this your cell number?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’ll call you back.” I cut the call and dial my mother’s number.
“Patricia, darling, how are you today?”
“Cut the crap, Mother. What did you do?” I say full of anger.
“Patricia, don’t talk to your mother that way. Now calm down and tell me what you’re talking about.”
“Carter told Derek he saw you laughing at him after I ran out on him. What did you do?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t even in the room.”
“Liar! You told me you saw me run out, upset, and that’s why you called me yesterday, worried about me,” I shout into the phone.
“I did see you run out, but…” she stammers, “I…I didn’t see what happened.”
“You know what? If you’re going to interfere in my life like this and lie to me, then I don’t want you in my life. Don’t call me until you’re ready to apologize to both Carter and I because I want nothing to do with you.”
“You can’t mean that,” she says as she chokes back a sob.
“Oh, I do. You are supposed to be my mother, and that means supporting me in my decisions. Not only have you hurt me, but this time you’ve hurt Carter too.”
“I didn’t do anything to that boy.” She sounds offended.
“Oh yes, you did. He has PTSD. Us breaking up may have sent him into a depression and caused him to have nightmares. That means he’s not sleeping, and if he doesn’t sleep that can lead to other issues, like not eating and alcohol abuse.”
She gasps, but she quickly tries to recover. “I still didn’t do anything,” she says, but I can hear her voice is shaky.
I have nothing more to say, so I cut the call and call Derek back.
“Hey, Patty. What did you do?”
“I called my mother to try and get her to admit to whatever she did, and when she wouldn’t, I told her I wanted nothing to do with her until she apologized to Carter and me.”
“That’s too bad,” he says, sounding sorry for me.
“Derek, I’m worried about Carter. What do I do?”
“Have you tried to go to his house?” he asks me, like it’s common sense.
“No, but I’m on my way now,” I say.
I drop everything I’m doing to go straight to his house. I pull up a few minutes later and run right in. When I run past the doorman, he says, “Hi.”
While running to the elevator, I shout, “Hi.” I get up to his apartment, and I can hear the music blaring through the door. I pound on his door and scream, “Carter, it’s me. Open the door.”
I pound on the door some more, and when he opens it, he has a glass of scotch in his hand and he reeks of alcohol.
“What do you want? You didn’t want to talk to me.”
“I was upset.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m upset today and don’t want to see you,” he says as he walks away, leaving the door open.
I walk in behind him, finding a ton of empty beer bottles on the counter and a bottle of scotch that’s three quarters empty. “Carter, did you drink all of that today?” I ask him, noticing it’s only about one-thirty in the afternoon.
“What do you care? Just get out, will you?” He turns to me with a look of disgust.
“I’m worried about you,” I try to say calmly, but in reality he’s scaring the shit out of me. I’ve never seen him like this, and to be honest I would be fine if I never saw it again.
“Now you're worried about me? Were you worried yesterday when I wanted to talk to you to tell you that I didn’t want to kiss that girl?”
I start crying because he is so mad and hurt and I can see it. Now I feel bad that I wouldn’t listen yesterday. I’ve never seen this side of him.
“I’m sorry,” I say in barely a whisper. I certainly didn’t mean to hurt him.
“Why? Because I’m angry, or because you realize you should have spoken to me yesterday?”
“You know what? I don’t deserve this. I’m sorry I hurt you by not talking to you yesterday, but I was hurt when I saw you kissing that girl and I needed time to calm down so I could take in what you were saying. All I keep seeing in my sleep is her lips on yours, and it’s killing me.”
“Try seeing what I see in my sleep. Now get out,” he screams at me.
“You don’t mean that. I can’t believe you really want me to go,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
He starts crying. “Get out!”
He finishes the scotch that’s in his glass. I run away from him, crying, and I swear to myself that this will be the last time he hurts me.
As soon as I get in the car, I call Derek. Sobbing, I tell him, “He’s all yours.”
“What happened?”
“He is so drunk. He was mean and cruel. He stood there, yelling at me.”
“Go home. I will take care of him,” he says. He sounds pissed off.
“Will you call me with an update?”
“Yes. Where are you now?”
“I’m sitting outside his apartment, talking to you.”
“Please calm down and then go home. I’ll call you in a little while.”
“Okay.” I cut the call and take a deep, calming breath. When I regain the control I need, I start the car to go home.
Lucky for me, I only live a few minutes away. When I get home, Bella is waiting for me.
As soon as I get out of the car, she wraps me in a hug and says, “Let’s get you inside.” I barely make it through the door when I start sobbing all over again.
My lip instantly quivers. All I can manage to say to her is, “I’m so worried about him.”
“I know. Shh, I’ll stay with you.”
We sit on the couch for god knows how long. She rocks me as I try to tell her about what happened today. One of the things I realize as I’m telling her the story is how worried I am about him.
“I love him,” I say. “I didn’t mean to hurt him yesterday.”
“Oh honey, I know you do and there is nothing wrong with that. We’ll help him, and then he’ll realize you didn’t mean to hurt him. Derek has been there himself, and he’s helped others in this situation. I promise we will get him through this.”
I nod and thank her for being so supportive. I fill her in on my conversation with my mother and how upset I am that she would do this to us, all because she wants me with a man that I want nothing to do with.
My phone rings, and I jump. I answer immediately when I see who it is.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Patty. It’s Derek.”
“Please tell me you have some good news.”
“Well, I’m not on the approved list for his apartment, and since he wouldn’t answer the phone they wouldn’t let me up, but I had his parents' info for work purposes so I called them and they have a spare key. They went to check on him and he was still dressed, out cold on his bed. He smells of booze and vomit, but there was no sign of it anywhere so he was aware enough to go to the bathroom and that’s a good thing.”
“So what do we do?” I ask, concerned.
“Well, his parents don’t want to upset him too much by staying there because that could make it worse. We’re going to let him sleep it off and see what happens tomorrow. I’ll call him in the morning to see if he’s coming in. If he doesn’t answer the phone, his parents and I are going to go there, and if he’s still a mess we are going to drag him in for help, kind of like an early intervention. I’ll let you know where he is so you can visit.”
“Thanks, Derek. I really appreciate you helping him.”
“That’s what we are here for. Try to get some sleep and I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Tell Bella I’ll call her as soon as I can.”
“I will. Have a good night.”
“You too,” he says, and then he cuts the call.
I relay the message to Bella and tell her that I’m going to take a bath and lay down. Before leaving to go home, she gives me one last hug and tells me to call her if I need anything.
Chapter 4
Carter
What the fuck is that noise? Oh shit. I jump up from my bunk as another round of gunfire explodes around me.
Brody is screaming, “Carter, take cover.”
I roll off my bunk and low crawl over to the sandbags, where the rest of my team is hiding out. We pop up to take a few shots and see guys dropping right in front of us. There’s a sniper on the hill somewhere, so I tell Brody to grab his night scope and take him out. The rest of the team and I start picking off guys while Brody sets himself up. He spots the flash from his muzzle as one of our guys goes down.
“Fuck, we lost another one,” he says. As I’m about to start taking shots to pick off the guys attacking our makeshift camp, Brody takes his shot and nails the sniper dead-on.
“Way to go, Brody.”
All is quiet, so Brody uses his night scope to scan the area when suddenly there’s a weird ringing around us. I’m looking around, praying it isn’t a bomb about to go off. The sound stops as quickly as it came.
Brody says, “Don’t move.”
He starts looking around for the source of the noise. A minute later, it starts again but this time it scares me.
I jump up and realize I’m in my own bed and sweating from another nightmare.
I roll out of bed with a massive headache. I feel dizzy. I stumble into the bathroom, going for the medicine cabinet to find some aspirin. Once I find it, I amble to the kitchen to get a drink, leaning on the wall for support as I go. I open the fridge and spot the water, but I know the beer will kill the headache faster. Just as I reach for it, my phone rings.
“Hello?” My voice is groggy and slurred.
“Dude, where the fuck are you?” Derek practically screams into the phone.
I pull the phone from my ear, which now hurts because of him. I look at the clock. It’s nearly eleven already, and I just woke up. I roll my eyes. “Dude, I’m still sick,” I try to say with a straight voice.
“You’re not sick. You’re hungover. I can hear it in your voice. I tried to go to your house yesterday after you fucking screamed at Patty, but because you wouldn’t answer the phone they wouldn’t let me up.”
“What? Patty was here?” Shit. I look to the floor as I try to remember what happened.
“Yes, she was there. You fucking screamed at her because she wanted to talk to you about what happened Saturday night. She called me, upset that you were drunk. She’s worried about you, and I am too. I’m on my way over. We need to talk.”
“No! Don’t come here. I’ll get my shit together. Give me the day.”
He groans into the phone. “Listen, man. I understand what you’re going through. I’ll give you the day, but I’m coming to check on you after work. If you don’t have your shit together, I’m going to kick your ass.”
As he’s saying this, I’m chugging a beer. “Yeah, yeah,” I say, not giving a fuck because if I don’t answer, he can’t come up anyway. I finish the beer in my hand and grab another one.
“Dude…”
I cut the call. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I crack open the next beer and stroll off to the shower. I start the water, and while it warms up, I try like hell to remember what happened between Patty and I yesterday, but I don’t remember even seeing her. That’s what I wanted, though. I wanted to forget. That’s why I started drinking in the first place, to forget what happened with Patty, as well as the nightmares. These fucking nightmares are going to be the death of me.
I step into the hot stream of water to wash away the evidence of the rough day I had yesterday. When I step out of the shower, I look into the mirror. I look like hell. My eyes are sunken in, I haven’t shaved since Saturday evening, and I have no desire to deal with anything.
I walk out of the bathroom and put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt so I can walk to the store up the street. I need to pick up a few things. I pull on a sweatshirt and my jacket and walk out the door, not even caring to lock it. I walk down to the lobby and past the doorman with my head down. I don’t even bother to say hi or goodbye to anyone I see along the way.
I walk straight to the store up the street and grab a bottle of bourbon and a bottle of scotch and then go straight to the counter to pay for the liquor. Tempted to open the bottles, I walk back to the house as quickly as I can. My mood lifts a little now that I have what I need in hand.
As I approach my building, I again look down with my hood on and say nothing to anyone as I walk into my building. The doorman tries to say good afternoon, but I ignore him and go back up to my apartment and then into the kitchen for a glass with some ice. I pour a glass of this beautiful golden liquid and take a sip as I close my eyes, enjoying the burn as it flows down my throat and into my stomach. I quickly drink some more, numbing the pain within me.
I get some bread and throw a quick ham and cheese sandwich together. I don’t even feel like eating because eating reminds me of cooking with Patty. Thinking about her makes me hurt even more. I miss her beautiful smile and her cute little laugh. She’s never going to want to talk to me again, especially if I yelled at her like Derek says I did. My life is fucked. I’ve lost Patty, and at this point I may lose my job. I down the remainder of my scotch, grunting at the burn.
I fill my glass and ab
andon my sandwich to figure out what to do. I know if I don’t do something soon, I’m going to be on Derek’s shit list and I don’t need him up my ass. I spot my journal and decide to start writing again. I sit with the book and my glass to start writing down my feelings toward Patty and how she makes my life better. After a few minutes, I have some things written, but I can’t write anymore. It hurts too much.
I slam the book shut and move into the living room. I down the remainder of my scotch as I sit on my couch and sob. I cry for the guys I’ve lost, for the nightmares I’m having, and for the loss of a girl I was falling in love with and no longer have. I’ve never felt like this for another woman and know I’ll never experience it again. I can’t blame her either. Who would want to be with a fuck up like me?
I’ve never cried like this in my life, and it pisses me off. I pace the living room, so mad that I can’t gain the control I need to fix this. I throw my glass across the room and watch it shatter into a million pieces.
“Fuck!” I scream, walking into the kitchen with tears and snot all over my face. I clench the bottle of scotch in my hand and chug as much as I can handle prior to staggering into my bedroom, where I collapse on my bed.
***
There’s screaming all around me as bullets fly past us. I scream for the guys to take cover. As I scan the area I see Brody lying on the ground and all I can think about is getting to him. The trucks are lined up, trying to provide cover, but it’s not enough. We are outnumbered, and they’re shooting at us from up on the hill. I can hear him screaming my name as I run toward him.
“Stay down, Brody!”
My knees buckle. I hit the ground hard, but I know I have to get to him. Scanning the area for snipers, I jump back up and continue running toward him, panting and screaming in pain. The pain is fierce as I collapse to the ground by his side.
That’s when I see it. He’s been shot in the chest through and through, leaving a huge hole. I won’t let him know it though. I need him to fight for his life. I close my eyes in pain as I scream for a medic. They come running as I hold him on my lap and tell him he’s going to be okay.
