Be Your Savior: The Be Yours Trilogy #2

by Fox, Lizzie

  I still had it, packed away in a secret box I had of things that reminded me of Blake.

  I wiped my tears away, but more continued to fall. The video continued; there was a brief clip of me doing a solo, and of Victoria and I going to our senior prom. I had to remind myself to breathe, when Blake appeared on video, looking healthy, happy, and incredibly handsome, wearing his black tuxedo.

  Rubbing my nose with my left hand, the diamond engagement ring I wore bumped my cheek, and my soul nearly shattered. How could I sit here, crying over one man who was no longer here—when I had another ready to start life with me? Why did it still hurt so much?

  Maybe because literally, I hadn’t seen or heard him in almost thirteen years. I didn’t believe I would, but I had nearly forgotten what he sounded like. What he looked like. How he made me feel.

  And even though I should have been blissfully happy, suddenly… I was crestfallen. The hollow part of my heart I’d been beginning to forget over these past three months began to emerge again.

  “Goddamn… how could I forget you?” I whimpered at the freeze frame shot of Blake’s smile on the screen. I nearly reached out my hand to touch him when I remembered: he was gone. This was a video. Blake was no longer here.

  Why did it still hurt so bad? It shouldn’t. I was moving on.

  I slumped back into my chair, sobbing openly into my hand, feeling guilty for forgetting certain parts of him—I even forgot that Christmas, how could I have?—forgetting the sound of his voice or how he made me feel.

  I was still so in love with him. How was this fair to Seth?

  It’s just because you watched a video… of course it’s going to be shocking. You haven’t seen or heard him in years.

  I swallowed down a sickening lump that’d begun to form in my throat. The pain of loss ravaged me just like it had thirteen years ago and shook me to my core. Nothing made me feel better then. Except…

  Fuck it. This needs to stop. Just once, to push the pain away.

  Not even bothering to shut the screen of the computer, I slunk downstairs—not that I needed to, no one was home—and found my half-full bloody Mary and polished it off. The burn felt like heaven as it scalded my throat. It felt great; the flush from the alcohol warming my limbs was relaxing. But I still remembered… and I needed to forget.

  I grabbed the remainder of the bottle of vodka—straight—and a glass and took it upstairs. “I’ll owe you, Wes.” I slumped down on the bed, and began to drink away my cares, just like I did ten years ago when he died.

  16

  Seth

  “I think I’ll go to bed. ‘Night, man,” I said to Wes as we entered the house. We’d been out a little longer than I anticipated, but I think I needed it. I wouldn’t have minded if Jessie was there, but it was fun just goofing off with Wes, playing pool and air hockey while he was half drunk. Like the “good ol’” days that weren’t really that good at all.

  “Sure. Just gonna get one more drink so I can sleep. What time we need to be there tomorrow?” He asked, stumbling precariously through the house to the kitchen. “Hey. Where’d my vodka go?”

  I snorted. “Misplacing booze again? Man, you got a problem.”

  “Piss off, Archer.” He flicked me off jokingly. Or maybe not, he looked pretty peeved.

  “I’ll pass. But we’ll probably leave here around eight or so. If you want to hang a ride with us?”

  “Probably. Well shit. I’m just going to have to sleep with no drink. The hell?” Wes seemed totally baffled, searching the counter and the bag for his missing alcohol.

  “You have your laptop, right? You know you’ll just watch porn and jack off until you pass out,” I said, and he considered this.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” I rolled my eyes. I’d only been kidding, but… apparently, he wasn’t.

  “And that’s my cue to get the hell out of here. Clean up after yourself,” I demanded, shaking my fist at him, and I left him downstairs heading for the bedroom, taking two stairs at a time. I felt a bit more upbeat than I had in a few days, and I was determined to make it up to Jessie since she’d been at the other end of my surly disposition all week.

  I stopped immediately in the doorframe, puzzled at the scene I was met with.

  There was Jessie passed out, same clothes she was wearing before, with her laptop open on the pillow, and a glass tipped over that had been in her hand; the liquid was now drying on the top blanket…and Wes’ bottle of missing vodka on the nightstand, almost empty.

  Holy shit…how much did Wes drink earlier? Jessie couldn’t have drunk all this…

  Suddenly alarmed I rushed in and shook her. She was still warm but smelled of booze. I shuddered, feeling momentarily grossed out. My father smelled like this after he’d get drunk and come after me. But this was…different. She didn’t do this all the time.

  Except… that time with Shane, and that time during my first performance…

  I frowned. Nah, she’s just having a rough time…

  Shaking her again. “Jessie? You okay?”

  She lifted her head briefly before laying back down on the pillow with a groan. Okay, she was fine. I breathed a sigh of relief. Just really, really drunk. But…why? I thought things were going well. Besides the Adam thing…the wedding was coming up and she’d been excited. We’d even reconciled over the baby-thing. Maybe she was worried about the stuff with Miles? Or…something else?

  “Hmm…” I reached for her laptop, maybe she’d gotten some bad news. I woke up the screen and immediately was met with the smile of a blue-eyed blond guy, about twenty or so years old…but the video was a little grainy. Poor quality.

  No… this couldn’t be him.

  Hesitantly, I pulled the computer into my lap, turned the volume way down, and pressed play, and my ears were met with Jessie’s voice—just younger.

  “Hey, Blake. Smile. Your kids will want to make fun of you when they see this video in twenty years, ya dork,” Jessie in the video said, and the guy—obviously Blake—crossed his eyes briefly before breaking into a wide smile that seemed to light up his face.

  “Ha ha, Jessa-love. I fucking love you too. Can we go now so we can be done with it, and I can get out of this shit? Ugh, this is uncomfortable as hell,” Blake replied in a deep voice that surprised me.

  Jessa-love. How was it possible I’d given her almost the same nickname? She must have said something to me at one time. But…

  “Awww, but you look so hot!”

  “Yeah, I’m hot. I’m getting a rash, I think.”

  “Oh stop.”

  “You don’t really think our kids will see this, do you?”

  “Sure they will. I’ll show them.”

  “Ugggggh… then get in here so they can laugh at you too.”

  My heart fluttered as the scene shifted, and a much younger Jessie appeared on the screen, wearing a strapless, glittery dress, the color of the blue sky. Her hair was much shorter—eye-length— and her makeup was dark. She had a blue flower on her wrist, and Blake wore a matching one on his lapel. Prom, maybe? Jesus, she was beautiful… And clearly Blake thought so too, because the way he looked at her was nothing more than straight up adoration. It was…intimidating. She flashed him the same look, and he took her left hand in his, kissing the ring she wore on her left hand. He also wore a silver band on his ring finger; their wedding rings. Wedding rings at Prom…I’ve seen it all now.

  But…holy shit. I glanced over at Jessie, feeling a bit like a voyeur for being granted an insight to this little bit of her life I could never, ever be a part of. But, for better or worse…that was Blake. The Blake.

  I hated to admit it, but he was very handsome and every bit as bright as Jessie said he was. I could easily see how she loved him, and why she clearly still did, and was still crying over him now.

  “Oh Jess…” I reached over and brushed her hair out of her eyes; her cheek was wet, and so was the pillow she’d been lying on. In fact it wasn’t just wet…it was soaked. I bent ov
er and sniffed—it wasn’t Vodka. She’d been crying.

  What on earth made her watch that video tonight? Was it just something she always did when I wasn’t around? Or was today some sort of landmark day? Maybe his birthday? The day he died?

  Whatever it was it was obviously upsetting if she’d downed as much alcohol as she had. And damn…it was a lot.

  Ashamed, I snapped the lid shut and pushed it aside, sighing down at the passed out, drunk Jess. “What made you need to escape so bad?” I pressed a kiss on her cheek and cringed. Yeah she still smelled, but I thought most of that came from the blankets.

  I shook her again, trying to wake her but she didn’t even stir. So, instead I stood, leaned over and took her in my arms—one arm under her ass and the other around her shoulders, and carefully set her on the nearby loveseat. She gently snored but didn’t wake.

  I pulled off the top two blankets, relieved the sheets had been spared—they probably needed to be changed but it’d have to wait. I tossed the blankets aside and dutifully lifted her back up and set her back in the bed. She was wearing her casual clothes, so I didn’t bother stripping her down. I retrieved the blankets from the other bedroom—the ones that had been mine—and covered her with them before taking the others downstairs to the laundry.

  Kicking open the door, I hollered, “If you’re jerking off, better stop, I’m coming down.”

  “Ha ha, Archer. Very funny.”

  Snickering, I shook my head as I thumped down the stairs. Wes was lounging on the sofa in the center of the dark room, flipping the channels on the TV on the wall.

  “Anything good?” I asked, moving for the laundry room. If I left the door open, I could hear him respond.

  “Nope, not a damn thing,” I heard him grumble as I shoved them in the front-loading washing machine, threw in a couple of detergent pods, and started it up.

  “So, ah…I know what happened to your Vodka,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, quirking a brow.

  “Oh?”

  “My fiancée is drunk off her ass upstairs.” I sighed, shaking my head, running my hands through my hair.

  “Damn. How come? Did she just…decide to drink, or was there a reason?” Wes inquired, and I shrugged.

  “Not sure, but I think she was watching an old video of her husband.” Mindlessly, I sauntered through the basement, sitting on the arm of the sofa.

  “Adam?”

  “No. Blake. The one who died,” I replied flatly.

  “Ohh…and you don’t like that?” He asked uncertainly, and I shrugged.

  “No, it’s not that; it’s just...why?” I wondered.

  “Well, you’re getting married soon. Maybe she needed to say goodbye somehow,” Wes suggested. “And it just made her upset?”

  “Possibly. But…say how much did you have before we left?” I asked.

  “Oh…not much. Probably about four shots worth. I made those bloody Marys pretty damn weak.”

  “Damn. How could she have had that much? Three quarters of the bottle is gone.”

  “Shit. That is a lot.”

  “Jess is… well she’s a mess. You know she’s an alcoholic?” At the time, I thought Adam was full of shit. But… was he totally? Granted, he was still a shit-eating bastard, but… was he right? At least somewhat?

  It certainly would explain how she could drink so much and still be okay. She had a high tolerance.

  But…I’d been around her for months. I’d only seen her drink with Shane during social situations. Totally normal. So, if she was drinking again, and she was in fact an alcoholic… what made her start again? It had to be more than this video of Blake.

  Frowning, I said goodnight to Wes again, telling him I’d replace the vodka, and I went back upstairs. Jess hadn’t shifted since I left her, and she barely stirred when I slid into bed.

  With the blankets gone, it smelled less like alcohol, which was good. As much as I hated to think it, her breath reeked of it and as long as she faced the other way, it was tolerable.

  Sighing, wishing I could ask her about what and why she just drank until she passed out, I laid back and tried to relax. I knew I couldn’t sleep, but maybe I could snooze a little. No such luck. Anytime I shut my eyes, I saw the video; her and Blake, in their formal wear.

  It was…intimidating. Blake’s ghostlike presence had always been intimidating but now? I could place a face and a voice with the ghost. Without that, I could easily pretend he didn’t exist. Or push him out of my mind. Now? Now, it was a little bit harder.

  What did that mean? I didn’t have any fucking idea.

  Maybe Wes was right; she just needed to say goodbye. I couldn’t imagine being in her position, opening up to someone new—me—while still having someone else on the mind. Especially when he left her so tragically.

  Probably why—well, I know that was why—she railed against me when I tried to freak out.

  Well…if she’s going to freak out…this time I’ll be here for her. Whenever she is ready.

  Deciding I wasn’t going to get much sleep until I got answers from her, I reached for the tablet on the nightstand, searched the books until I found some urban fantasy that sounded interesting, and dove in.

  17

  Seth

  “‘Bout time you showed up here, man.”

  I joined a man along the shore of a lake…not Independence Lake, but I supposed it could have been. It looked like any old lake. But this wasn’t just any “old” man.

  “Blake.”

  “That’s me,” he replied. I recognized him from the video: blond hair, blue eyes, handsome. This time he wore a leather jacket and jeans.

  He bent over at the waist, picking up a rock, and skipping it across the water lapping against the shore.

  “You know who I am?”

  “Yep. I do. Seth Archer,” he replied, skipping another rock before he paused, looking out at the lake then turning to face me. “Like I said, it’s about time you showed up here.”

  “Where exactly are we?” I asked, glancing around. Now that I looked, everything seemed misty…ethereal. Almost not real. But it couldn’t be real, of course…Blake was dead. And I certainly wasn’t…so what the hell.

  Blake shrugged indifferently. “Not sure. I just hope it’s somewhere nice and peaceful. She deserves that much, at least.”

  “She?”

  “Jessalie. Duh.” He smirked at me, shaking his head.

  “Ah.” I folded my arms over my chest and looked down at my feet uneasily, kicking a rock with my toe.

  “Aren’t you going to ask?” Blake said suddenly.

  “Ask what?” But the second I asked, I knew exactly what obvious question was at the tip of my tongue.

  “You know. ‘Why did I do it?’ Why did I kill myself and break Jessa’s heart? That’s what you want to know, right?” He asked, his handsome face quirked into a frown.

  “Well…” I hesitated, and he snorted.

  “Of course you want to know. Honestly? I don’t know why. I fucking loved her so much, man. All I can say is I didn’t know what I was doing. It was almost like I was a car, and someone else was driving me. By the time I realized what I’d done, I was gone and watching her cry over and over again. For days. Weeks.” Blake sighed, picking up another rock and throwing it into the lake with such force, it made a loud splashing sound instead of an easy one.

  “You know she was pregnant, right?” I don’t know why I said it, but something just compelled me. “She lost it, but… well she was really sad.”

  “Yeah. I know. I fucked everything up. Everything.”

  “No offense, but yeah, you did,” I replied, and he nodded before he faced me.

  “I did. Mind if we sit for a bit?”

  I shrugged. “Sure. Sitting on an indiscriminate lake with my fiancée’s dead husband. That’s not wierd or anything.”

  Blake let out a laugh, and we both sat down a few paces from each other on the rocky shoreline. The rocks should have dug into my bony ass but here?
I felt nothing. It was just smooth, and cold. “I can see why she likes you so much.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. Took a while for the two of you to fucking figure it out, god,” Blake retorted with a roll of his eyes.

  “What do you mean, ‘figure it out’?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he put his hand in the pocket of his leather jacket, and with a metallic clink, a coin flipped in the air towards me. I swiped out a hand and deftly caught it: a shiny, silver quarter with the year 1984 written on it. And I knew exactly what it meant.

  “So…it was you.”

  “I had to make it up to her. I couldn’t let her go through life sad, mourning me. Missing me. I fucked up; I left her with all these questions. She tortured herself for years for things she had nothing to do with. It was all me. I should have gotten help. I denied anything was ever wrong. I was such an idiot. So, when she ran into you at that concert…thing. I had to make sure she knew she had my blessing,” Blake said solemnly.

  “What—how is that even possible?”

  He snorted. “Anything is possible, man. I don’t even know how I found you. I guess with your issues I was just…drawn to you. You needed someone like her. She needed someone she could save. You…beat them.”

  “I didn’t beat anything. I’m still dealing with it, man,” I replied bitterly. “They’ll never go away.”

  “No, they won’t. But you won because you admitted there was a problem. And you don’t give up. You keep going. That’s winning. I fucking lost…big time.” Blake sighed, shaking his head. “Such an idiot…I was such an idiot.”

  “So, you’re telling me you really brought us together?” I laughed sharply. “That’s really good.”

  “Hey, you’re here with me now? If this is possible, don’t you think that is?” He retorted with a smug grin.

  I shrugged. “Okay. Maybe. But…why me?”