by Tijan
“Of course,” I answer her and wonder where she’s going with this.
“Aiden didn’t like me during the interview.”
I cut her off and say, “He was a grade-A dick for no reason.” I still remember how shocked I was at his unprofessionalism.
“I hit his car a week before,” she blurts out.
“What?”
She can’t stop grinning. “I was so embarrassed. It was a rough day. Like really bad and he backed up out of nowhere in the parking lot and I just tapped him.” Her thumb and her pointer are parallel as she holds them up and whispers, “Just a teeny tap.”
“You hit his car?”
“And then I might have… you know,” she stops and laughs again. “I called him a dickhead when he was yelling at me. Like he was screaming in my face and it wasn’t like it was helping anything and like I said, it was a rough day and I just snapped.” Her shoulders shake with another giggle. “And then I showed up for the interview the next week.”
“Oh my God! And you never told me?” I can’t help laughing either. I can absolutely see Aiden and her screaming at each other in a parking lot over a scratch on a car. They both have a habit of taking out their aggression on the least suspecting.
“I was so embarrassed I couldn’t tell you.”
“Well no wonder he didn’t want to hire you,” I comment.
“I know. I had to go back in and apologize. I’d already sent him insurance information that he didn’t even need, but still. I felt awful. It was so awkward and… unfortunate.”
“But he still hired you,” I say and hold up my finger to make that point clear.
“Because of you. He never would have if you weren’t there backing me up.”
“Knowing about the car… I’m going to have to agree with you now. I just thought he was an uncalled for asshole at your interview.”
“I never told you and I want to thank you again, Beth. Thank you.”
“Of course, I love you.” I almost add how she was by my side through everything with Jenny before she died, and that getting her a job is insignificant in comparison, but I leave that out. I’m not wanting to drag the mood down.
“I love you too.”
She spears her hand through her golden locks, moving all her hair to her left shoulder and glancing at her split ends. “You’re off, like even more than you have been. And don’t tell me you’re fine,” she says, mocking the words I’ve been giving her all night.
Reaching out for the bottle of wine, she gives me a pointed look. The swish of the liquid is followed by the sound of a car riding down the half-empty lot and I look at it instead of her.
Again not answering her. It’s only about the dozenth time she’s asked me what’s going on.
“A cop came to your house today.” Her voice is clearer and when I look back, this time she isn’t looking at me. I wouldn’t call her expression a frown, it’s something else, something etched with worry.
“When I was waiting for you to get home, which – by the way, where the fuck were you?” She pauses and sucks in a breath before relaxing into the seat and then taking another swig. She offers it back to me and then repeats, “I was waiting and a cop came by. I told him you weren’t home and he said he’d come back later.”
“Officer Walsh?” I question her and she nods, then takes the wine back before I can take another sip.
“I was going to tell you at dinner, but you seem really not with it. So like… I don’t know.”
This time I grab the bottle and take a drink before it’s all gone.
Laura looks at me with a slight pout, although I’m not sure it’s quite that. It’s genuine and sullen, but there’s a sadness I can’t place.
I watch her look out to the shoe store we just left before she exhales with frustration. “You always tell me everything,” she starts. “I know this is hard and you’re not a ‘speak your feelings’ type of girl, which is ironic since you tell everyone else to do just that.”
The wine flows easily until the bottle is empty, but I don’t let it go.
“It just seems like this isn’t mourning, it’s something else and I don’t know what to do or how to help you.”
Laura’s voice cracks as she raises her hands into the air, trying to prove a point but needing to wipe under her eyes instead.
“No, no, don’t cry.” My reaction is instant, reaching out to clutch her shoulder. The leather of her seats groans as I sit up and reposition myself on my knees to face her in the small car. “Everything’s fine,” I tell her but she only shakes her head.
With her eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling of the car, she responds, “It’s not though. You’re not okay.”
“Seriously,” I start to tell her and then catch sight of a car I recognize, and a prick I know too. Seth raises his hands in surrender at the wheel of his car, although his wrists stay planted on it, and my throat tightens. I can’t hold on to my train of thought and I have to sit back in my seat, taking a steadying breath.
Jase sent Seth to follow me.
Maybe I should have guessed it. Maybe I should have known I’d be followed.
It’s a strange thing, to feel safe, to feel wanted and protected by someone I know I fear and hate on a level that’s unattainable to my conscious.
I rest my head against the cold window and close my eyes.
“We were having a good time,” I tell her softly. Feeling the tingle of the bell, and falling back into old habits with Laura, I felt like I escaped for a moment. I’m nothing but foolish.
“Shit, no, don’t you cry too.” Laura presses a hand to her forehead and then over her eyes.
“I swear, I’m fine,” I tell her although I can’t help but to look past her and at Seth instead. “I…” I trail off and have to swallow before I lie again, “It’s just hard to stop thinking about Jenny.”
Fuck, that hurts to say. To use her as an excuse. To bring her up in conversation at all.
“And now we’re both crying,” I tell her with a huff and pull my sweater to the corner of my eyes. “I don’t want to cry. It’s just my eyes glossing over. It’s not crying… I’m not crying.”
“You’re an awful liar.” Laura’s voice is soft and I’m pulled to her, to tell her everything. To lean on her like a friend would do.
How selfish is that?
“Tell me about work. I miss it. What kind of person misses work?”
Laura works in Human Resources at the center, but they get all the gossip just the same as the nurses who do the rounds like me.
“Well there’s a cute guy who came in last week,” she starts to tell me with feigned interest. Then her head falls to the side to look at me as she says, “But his name is Adam and we both know Adams are dicks.”
Her comment forces a small laugh from me and then she reaches for the bottle.
“I don’t know what’s funnier, your taste in men or your pout when the wine’s gone.”
Instead of commenting, she pushes her hair back and tells me about a few new patients, all of which piss her off for good reason. A man who was drunk at the wheel and killed two people. She thinks he’s faking insanity because ever since he was admitted all he can talk about is how totaled his truck is and he hasn’t shown a damn bit of remorse for the couple he killed even though he knows he’s being charged with their murder. We get those kinds of people sometimes. Assholes who fake mental illnesses to get out of legal trouble. Or even to get out of work for a week.
“Oh, I do love this one old woman who came in though. She said it’s actually the 1800s and she’s talking to dead people. I like Sue a lot. She’s so sweet.”
“I wish I were at work.”
“I wish you were too,” she adds and pats my thigh. “You’d love Sue.”
“I’m sure I would.” It’s never a boring day at the Rockford Center. That’s a truth no one can deny.
“I can’t drive us home.” Laura’s statement makes me look at her and then at Seth. “You want to Ub
er?” she asks me and I shake my head no, getting out without thinking.
“What are you doing?” she calls out as I step out onto the asphalt and make my way to Seth’s car. I ignore her calls for me to get my ass back there. I’d smile at the way she whispers it and tries to keep me from knocking on Seth’s window if it weren’t for the anxiousness creeping up on me from what I’m about to do.
I don’t have to knock though; he rolls down his window but doesn’t say a word.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Laura says and tries to pull me away again. “My friend is a little bit more drunk than I thought.” She tugs at my wrist and again I ignore her efforts.
“Will you give us a ride home?” I push out the question. Seth lets out a smile, a handsome smile with perfect teeth, all the while staring at Laura and her wide eyes.
“We don’t need a ride,” Laura’s quick to tell him. “I’m so sor-”
“I don’t mind,” Seth cuts her off and asks, “Where are you going?” I’m still staring at Laura and the way she’s looking at Seth that I don’t notice he asked me.
“Home,” is all I answer him and he nods once, the playfulness gone from his expression and tells us to get in the back.
I don’t know what came over me or why. Maybe it’s the piece of me that wants Seth to pay for watching me like a hawk. I can’t explain it, but it feels like a step forward. Not the literal step forward I take to get in the back of the car, but a step out of whatever place I was in just hours ago.
Laura snatches me when I open the door, and she immediately slams it shut instead. The thud is loud and nearly violent.
“What the fuck?” she hisses. “Do you even know him? Do you want to get us killed?”
“Yeah, I’ve met him a couple of times,” I tell her and shrug, feeling like the worst liar in the world. A heavy weight presses against my chest as I escape the harsh wind, opening the door again and scooting over to the other side so Laura will get in too.
She takes a little too long to decide so I tell her, “Hurry up, it’s cold out there and you’re letting all that cold in here!” My admonishment works.
“Let me get my bag.”
As she turns to walk away, Seth asks me all the while watching her, “Whose home?”
Whatever’s settled into my stomach feels thicker. “Can you drop her off first?”
“You think she’d be okay with that?” He finally turns in his seat to look at me. “Because I don’t.”
I watch her texting on her phone a few spaces over with her driver’s door open although she still stands on the street.
“I want to tell her,” I admit to him. “You can stop me if I say something I shouldn’t.”
“You shouldn’t say anything, Bethany.”
“Well, I’m going to say something. I have to tell her.” We both hear her car door shut and he says lowly, “You really shouldn’t.” The way his shoulders tense and he grips the wheel makes my chest feel hollow and I almost reconsider, but I have to tell her something.
She’s my best friend and she deserves to know. I can’t not tell her. I can’t let her cry for me like she’s doing.
Her car beeps from the alarm and then she’s seated beside me, thanking Seth and referring to him as the “handsome savior” of our night although I can still hear the hesitation and worry in her tone.
She gives Seth a tight smile and then he asks again, “Where are you guys headed?”
“Can you take me to Jase’s?” I dare to ask Seth, knowing Laura’s going to ask me about Jase, paving the way for it to happen.
Seth’s returning smile is tight, but he nods.
“Who’s Jase?”
Ignoring Laura’s question and her stare of confusion, I ask Seth, “Can you take Laura home first?”
“No fucking way are you staying in this car, drunk and with a guy you don’t know.” She glances at Seth who puts the car in reverse to leave as she adds, “No offense.”
“He works for Jase,” I answer her, finally looking her in the eyes.
“Who the hell is Jase?”
“Jase Cross,” I tell her, gauging her expression when I mention “Cross.” Everyone knows about the brothers and I can see the exact moment when it sinks in.
“You’re with Jase?” she questions me softly and then swallows so loud, looking between me and Seth, that I’m sure even he can hear it. I only nod.
“With him? Like what does that even mean?”
My hands turn clammy and I have to wring my fingers around one another in my lap. “I can’t even look you in the eyes,” I tell her and then cover my face with my hands as my head sinks back into the seat.
“No, Bethy, no. Don’t cry.”
“I’m not going to cry,” I protest, forcing my hands down and staring straight ahead at the back of the black leather seat in front of me. “I’m just…” I can’t finish. “I don’t even know what I feel. Ashamed, I think.”
“Ashamed because you’re with him? Or ashamed at what you’ve done?” she asks cautiously. She whispers, “Did he make you do anything? I will fuck him up. I don’t care who he is.”
“No, stop. No, he didn’t make me do anything.” Although I tell her that, the first time we met flashes in my memory. I think I’ll leave that out of this conversation.
I have to shake out my hands, feeling them turn numb and having a wave of anxiousness hit me. “I’m ashamed because of both… neither. I don’t know. I’m confused.”
“Okay.” Laura’s patient with me although she keeps looking at Seth like he’s not to be trusted.
The way she looks at Seth, questioning him and his intentions gives me an uncomfortable feeling. More than that, I feel like I should be defending them. Which is outrageous, yet it’s exactly how I feel in this moment.
“He’s a good guy,” I tell her to ease her worries. “Jase treats me really, really good.” Emotions tickle up my throat and I have to swallow them before I tell her, “Seth watches out for me for him.”
She asks the obvious question. “Watches out for what?”
With Seth as my witness, I tell her everything.
I don’t even leave out the part where I almost shot Jase. I tell her literally everything that I can remember. Including the part where I think I love him. Fuck my life.
Jase
It’s not every day that I feel like a prick.
Taking advantage of someone’s weakness is how I survived, how my brothers and I rose to the top.
There’s not a single doubt that I’m taking advantage of Bethany. It’s easy when you’re hurting to fall for someone, to trust them, to want there to be a way out of the pain.
Listening in on her conversation in the car, listening to her recount the events with Laura Devin, makes me feel like the worst fucking prick alive.
I made her love me. I made sure she had no other option. And worse than that, I don’t know that I will ever say the words back to her.
“Boss.” Seth nods when I see him and I nod back although my gaze travels to Bethany. Watching her climb the steps as I open the door for her.
Her cheeks are tearstained but there’s a sense of lightness around her. Even more than that, her small body brushes against my chest as she walks in. She did it on purpose. She wanted to touch me and I fucking love it. Prick or not.
“Have a good night,” I tell him and he smirks at me as he replies, “You too.”
Bethany rocks from one foot to the other, watching me as I close to the door to the cold and then turn to her fully.
“Let me help you,” I tell her and then act like a gentleman, helping her out of her coat.
With my fingertips lingering on her bare skin, I lower my lips to the shell of her ear and whisper, “Seth put you on speaker from the moment you knocked on his window.”
She shudders from my touch and lets her head fall back into my chest. “Are you angry?” she asks with her eyes still open, staring past me at the now closed door.
“No, I’m not.”
>
“I had to tell her.” Her words slur slightly and I can smell the hint of alcohol on her.
“Of course you did.”
“And you heard everything?” she asks and that’s when her expression falls. No doubt she’s questioning where my opinions lie. When I nod in response, she doesn’t voice her question.
She takes a different approach, changing the subject altogether.
“What were you talking to Seth about before I went to him?” she asks me, her own curiosity showing.
“Maybe about you?” I give her a flirtatious response that’s only a half lie, rather than telling her about Marcus.
“Oh… and what about me?” she asks although the flirtation isn’t quite there.
“I wouldn’t tell you, you like to gossip too much,” I tease her, giving her a kiss on the crook of her neck. She rewards me by wrapping her arms around my shoulders, and planting one of her own on my neck.
The knowledge of what I’m going to do tonight keeps me from pushing for more. It keeps me from wanting more, it keeps me from lifting her ass up and pinning her against the wall.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, holding her close and not letting her go just yet.
“Me?” she questions and I nod against her, feeling her hair tickling along my stubble as I reply, “Yes, you.”
“I feel better in a way,” she confides in me and stands upright so I let her go. “It feels good to say it all out loud and still be able to stand afterward.”
Staring into her gaze I admit to her, “You don’t strike me as a girl who would ever not land on her feet, cailín tine.”
“You know, I forgot to tell Laura that,” she murmurs and sways slightly. Enough that she feels the need to take a step back and steady herself.
“How much did you drink?”
She shrugs and then says, “The normal amount when we go drunk shopping.”
“No bags though?”
“Oh, well there’s this thing where I owe this guy some money so I’m on a tight budget at the moment,” she jokes with me and her smile is infectious. “Really, I just wasn’t interested tonight in shopping.”
