Resurrection

by Evelyn Montgomery

  As I pass, I see Erica give Troy a knowing look that there is trouble brewing. Troy doesn’t miss a beat and quickly makes his way after me to Justin’s side. As Levi orders a few drinks, I steal a look in Justin’s direction and am shocked to see him actually succeeding in ordering a few more shots from another nearby bartender. His infatuation with the blonde, if you can call it that, now gone as she stands absently by his side waiting for him to maybe need her like he did before. I watch as Troy whispers something in his ear as Justin leans both his forearms on the bar top with his head hug low before he takes the shot in front of him and gestures for the bartender to pour him another, which surprisingly he does.

  Levi nudges me as he hands me another beer. I take it slowly as I watch the man in front of me falling apart. Over what, I have no clue! When Levi still doesn’t have my attention he says, “And that dress!” The mere mention of what I am wearing makes Justin snap to attention like he’s almost damn near sober, which we all know is the farthest thing from the truth. His eyes rise as he turns my way, shoots back the other shot that was just poured, before slowly raking the stormy windows into his soul down my curves. He licks his lips as they graze down my waist before they begin to make their way back up to my eyes, lingering a little too long on my breasts.

  “I mean you were a looker before you had Liam and Olivia,” I hear Levi shout beside me over the music, drawing my attention back to him as I try and force the way Justin just looked at me out of my mind. But the way the man before me undressed me with his eyes clings to my memory and promises to never let it go. “But fuck,” Levi continues. “Becoming a mother sure did fill you out in all the right places!” I hear Levi declare right before I hear the sound of a glass break and I’m knocked to the side. Troy catches me just as I see Justin’s fist collide with Levi’s face as he pushes him up against the bar behind him.

  “Are you OK?” I hear Troy ask.

  Shocked, I only nod once before I see him lunge forward and attempt to pull his friend off of Levi who is being beaten harder and faster than I have ever seen anyone worked over before in my life.

  Demons unleashed. Hell broken free. I stand in disbelief as Justin’s fist collides over and over again against every square inch of Levi’s face. Levi doesn’t even have time to breathe, let alone fight back as Justin’s anger, his rage, his fury is repeatedly delivered in quick, fast, crushing blows even Troy can’t stop. I see the blood on his knuckles, hear the yells of those around us, but time seems to pause, stand still, as I watch the man before me break and realize he just may be as damaged as I am.

  The bartenders start yelling they are calling the cops just as a few bouncers from the front of the bar start to make their way over to us. Erica clings to my side, half surprised and half scared shitless like I am, as Troy finally pulls Justin from Levi’s limp body, and we both watch as Levi attempts to come back to life and wipe the blood from his face.

  “I’m not leaving without Rose!” I hear Justin shout, making me snap my attention towards him. The blonde from earlier has now backed away in fright and all that is left in front of me is the determined eyes of the man I know. The man that I suddenly just fully realized is broken, shattered, in need of help just like I am and I can’t find it in myself to turn him away. Something inside makes a little more sense as Troy looks at me in a pleading way and I just nod in understanding before me and Erica follow them out a back door and attempt to escape the turn of events we all never expected tonight.

  Chapter 16

  Rose

  The car stops in the driveway of a house I have never been to before and I close my eyes for a moment wondering how any of the events tonight happened, and how any of this is even possible. How did I even get here? And what the hell does it all mean?

  Last thing I remember was the jealousy I felt for a man that isn’t even mine, before he pummeled one of my oldest friends against the bar top for a comment he shouldn’t have made. I only open my eyes again when the man whose head is in my lap begins to stir and tries to sit up. Troy has already exited the vehicle and is quick to open the passenger door as Justin rights himself and takes a moment before attempting to climb out of the car.

  “Take it easy, J.” I hear Troy say as he helps his friend.

  “I’m not that drunk anymore asshole,” Justin mutters quietly, but loud enough so me and Erica hear as I give her a small, sad smile and we both exit the vehicle as well.

  “I wouldn’t think so, not with the amount of barf you hurled up out back of the bar,” Troy laughs. I hear Justin moan as he tries to steady himself on his feet before looking up at his place in front of us.

  Looking back at Troy he says, “I did do that, didn’t I?”

  Attempting to lighten the mood, Troy chuckles and says, “Yeah, but hell if I don’t appreciate you doing it before you got in my car. Thanks Brother!” He slaps him on the back in a brotherly way before the two of them exchange a sad laugh.

  When Troy calmed my nerves about driving, promising he hadn’t drank a drop of alcohol since lunch, and only had two beers at that, I climbed in the backseat where Justin laid his head in my lap and quickly passed out for the almost 40 minute ride home. I look across the driveway at both of them and frown, not sure what to do or say after everything that just happened at the bar and having now found myself at my boss’s house. My slightly drunk boss’s house. A man who I should hate more than anything for what just happened but I also can’t help but not hate him as the hurt I saw in his eyes, the pain I heard in his voice, and the misery I felt as he tried to push everyone away caught my attention and called to the place inside me where all the same damn emotions grow.

  “Just let me get him inside and I will…” Troy begins to say, but he is cut off as his friend turns to me with sad eyes and takes a step forward.

  “Rose,” he whispers. “Can you walk me inside? There is something… I need to…” Justin trails off before looking away and making my heart stop as I stand there wanting, needing him to continue. He looks back in my eyes before his gaze drops to the floor and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Just please, will you?” He pleads with me before silence falls amongst our small group of friends and he waits a few moments before he looks up my way again.

  I nod with a frown and glance at both Erica and Troy as I follow him up the front steps. He unlocks the door slowly and pushes it open just as Erica and Troy begin to follow the two of us inside. Flipping on a nearby switch, he throws his keys in a dish on a table in the entryway and gestures for me to follow him further into the house. I hesitate for a moment in the living room as Troy and Erica come inside as well and close the front door.

  “Make yourself at home,” Justin says, turning to Erica and giving her a smile. “Troy, you know where everything is.” I watch as Troy gives him a nod before my attention is pulled back to Justin’s. “Rose.” He whispers, before raising his hand and gesturing towards the back. “Can we talk?”

  Nervously, I look at the two friends in front of us before taking leave and walking down the hallway. The place smells like wood, spice, and leather as I look to the floor before glancing up at pictures lining the hallway. Figures I can’t quite make out in the darkness which only make my curiosity grow as I walk further towards the unknown. I wait when I come to the end for direction, but not for long as Justin comes up beside me and pauses. His hand raises, as if to touch me, before a look of dread takes over his eyes and he shakes his head. Grabbing out to the door at our left, he opens it and flips on a light. I enter, not knowing where I am going, what he is about to say, or what he even wants from me now that he has succeeded in getting me alone.

  I turn quickly as he closes the door and my insides spin out of control. I am not sure if it is the alcohol, the closeness of him, or the fact that we are in his bedroom that does it, but suddenly it is very hot in here and I am not feeling too well myself thinking of what might happen next. He goes to speak but stops himself. Unsure what to say myself, I look to the floor and try and
come up with something, anything, some random thing I could say instead of what I really want to blurt out.

  How could you? Did you really like her? I thought we had something… something special.

  My mind rages, but before I can say anything, he breaks the silence and my heart hurts for him a little more as he whispers two little words, “I’m sorry.”

  My head snaps up and I notice clarity in his eyes for the first time tonight. “What?” I ask, needing to hear him say it again so that I know I am not imagining things.

  “For what I did,” he whispers, as he takes a step closer. “I’m sorry Sunshine. I just…” He stops talking and stares at a space on the wall behind my head. His jaw clenches as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows hard. “When I am with you, it’s just… I almost forget.” He looks back at me and I swear I see tears in his eyes. “And I don’t deserve to forget.” His voice is low, sick with hatred for himself as the tears fill his tortured eyes more. “So I thought if I tried to move on, tried to forget you, the way you make me feel, I wouldn’t let myself.”

  “Forget?” I question, needing to understand more, but he doesn’t continue. “Justin, when I am with you I forget.” I whisper, completely dismissing everything that happened before and forgiving his lame attempt at whatever it was back there with the blonde. “I forget the heartache. The pain. The way I promised myself I’d die before I’d ever let myself forget, but you give me something that makes me know, makes me feel,” I continue as I reach out and grab his hand and then watch as a shiver runs through his body. “That it is OK. That I can let go. That I don’t have to be alone or torture myself the way I have been, for way too long.” We both look down to where our hands are laced together and I find myself subconsciously rubbing my thumb over the top of his palm. “You let me see that I am strong. Strong enough to go on living.”

  “That’s just it, I don’t deserve what you do, Rose!” He blurts out catching me off guard. “You deserve the fucking world. A life filled with light and hope and fucking happiness that I can’t give you. I never could. I failed at it more times than I’d like to remember before, and I won’t let that happen with you. I can’t, Rose. I…”

  He drops my hand and paces to the other side of the room. I want to follow him. I want to grab him close to me and give him everything that he has given me before. Peace. Hope. Joy. Acceptance. All at a time when I didn’t expect to find any of those things, and I know he feels now like he doesn’t either. But how can I help a man that doesn’t want to be helped. A man that won’t open up to me and tell me what he is fighting so I can gift him, if only this once, with everything he has blessed me with.

  “Just,” he says suddenly as he spins around and catches my stare. I don’t know what to say so I just stand there, speechless, praying for a miracle to understand and hopefully see what it is that he is fighting so I can show him he is not alone. He will never be alone. If only he’ll give us a chance. He looks to the floor, a war raging in his mind, before glancing back up at me and smiling. “Just give me a minute.”

  I stare at him confused for a moment before giving him a slight nod and turning to leave the room. His laugh catches me off guard and I spin back around quickly.

  “No, Sunshine,” he chuckles before motioning towards the bed. My heart rate picks up because the last thing I think I can handle right now is sitting next to him. Especially on a black linen California king sized bed that looks like it was made for all the most deliciously sinful things I have stayed up at night dreaming about when it comes to him. Glancing back his way, he gives me a mischievous smile before taking a step forward. “I am going to hit the restroom,” he says, gesturing back towards the door on the opposite side of the room that I just now notice. “Give me a minute. Stay. We need to talk. You need to understand. And I need to tell you why, just being next to you, kills me a little more each and every day.”

  He brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes before trailing his thumb down my cheek. “Just, please, give me a minute. Will you, please?” I hear him beg. I nod slightly as nerves flutter in my stomach.

  He leaves me, in the middle of his room, a damn puddle of desire and confusion as I take a seat on his soft, heavenly bed and look around me. My body begins to tremble and it is only then that I am shocked to notice the quiet. The stillness. My peaceful mind and the calmness that continues to follow. The strength that I have somehow found in his peace, his acceptance. The voices don’t speak once and I smile to myself, enjoying the silence. Glancing across the room, I notice a photo in a frame and study it for a moment. When I still can’t make it out, I stand and walk a few steps over to his dresser. A woman with auburn hair stands in the shade of a lemon tree with a small baby swaddled in a blanket. Her smile haunts me, grabs to a place inside where the voice threatens to break free as I stare in her eyes and then glance down at the child.

  With a heavy sigh I whisper to myself, “Justin, what demons are you hiding?”

  Chapter 17

  Justin

  I spit the toothpaste out in the sink before rinsing my mouth but can still slightly taste the vomit from earlier. Grabbing the mouth wash, I rinse once, twice, three damn times before glaring at my reflection in the mirror.

  “You sad son-of-a-bitch!” I hiss out at myself remembering the way I paraded that blonde around Rose at the bar. The way I tried to block out Margaret and Robert while I downed six beers on the boat before insisting we go for more. How it felt to punch the shit out of the asshole I know wants what I want, but I can’t fucking let myself have, even after he made that shitty ass comment right before rage like I have never felt before spiked inside me and there was no reason left in my mind to hold back.

  I turn on the faucet and splash water on my face. The coolness refreshes me for a moment, although I am not nearly as drunk as some might think. The one perk of throwing up most of the alcohol, I guess you could say. Another splash of water on my face and my eyes rise in the mirror and threaten to betray me. I brace my hands on the counter and grab the cold granite so hard my knuckles begin to turn white as my thoughts start to go back on every damn thing I promised myself I wouldn’t. Not after bumping into my past earlier today.

  “If there is any justice in this damn world, your wish just may come fucking true!”

  Robert’s words cling to my mind, pressing it together like a damn vice and squeezing out any last thought of hope I had left. I don’t deserve a woman like Rose. I’d just ruin her, destroy her life. But God help me because I can’t seem to stay away from her either. I push of the counter in anger as my breathing gets heavier and my heart beats out of control.

  This ends. Tonight. It fucking has to. Before she sees the piece of shit I really am and wants nothing to do with me, ever. I don’t think I can take the look in her eyes, the realization that the man she thought she knew is nothing better than the words Robert flung at me earlier. A murder. A coward.

  I promised I’d tell her. But I didn’t say what. Right now, the only thing she needs to understand is how much she has to stay away from me. From the nightmares that haunt my own mind. The danger that will always try and destroy her, us, and there is nothing I can do to ever stop it.

  Rose

  I hear the door behind me and set the picture back down on the dresser. Justin sees what I was looking at and takes no time in taking a few steps across the room to my side. His hands shoved in his pockets, he takes one out and picks up the frame.

  “That is Charlette and Emma,” he whispers. “Right before…” but his thoughts trail off as he quickly lowers the picture back to its resting spot and shakes his head.

  “Before?” I ask, needing to hear him out. Needing to understand him more. But he stays silent. An unmovable rock that won’t break and I am not sure I have any kind of tool to even forge a crack.

  I walk away, to another set of pictures on the wall and stare at them, seeing the same face I saw in the one on his dresser. “Is this your wedding?” I ask and hear his footsteps behi
nd me.

  I feel his warmth as he stands close and wait for him to speak. But there is something else I feel as well. The same hesitance in him creeping in and stealing this moment. “Yeah,” he clears his throat. “We were only 21. God, we look so young. Don’t we?”

  I nod in agreement as those same haunted eyes from the picture on the dresser bore through me and I try and realize just what it is that I am seeing. “She is beautiful.” I hear myself whisper as I stare at the woman before me. The one that was lucky enough to know the man at my side before whatever thing he is fighting made him less whole.

  “She was,” he whispers, taking a step closer. I can tell his eyes are no longer on the picture as I see him staring at my silhouette, but mine stay trained on the haunted look in the woman before me. “And so are you.”

  My body shivers as his words, his body, presses up against my own slightly and my heart beats out of my chest. Nervous, I fling around quickly and bump into his chest right before his arms encircle my waist and hold me still.

  “I thought you said we needed to talk,” I whisper, as his eyes stare into my own and his face moves dangerously close to mine.

  He shakes his head, as silence falls between us. “No talking, not yet,” he whispers. His eyes stare into my soul in the shadows of the room and I try my best to read him. To understand him. To make sense of the pictures around us and the eyes of a woman I feel like I know, understand, relate to in some weird way. “Dance with me?” He smirks, as his grip tightens and he moves us away from the wall, swaying me to a rhythm in the middle of the room.