by P Mulholland
“I met Sophia Austin a few weeks back.”
No response.
“She’s really nice. Beautiful. You should give her a chance.”
He paused eating, stared down at his food. “She doesn’t know me.”
“She wants to get to know you.”
He chewed a piece of sausage before he answered, “She’ll think I’m an animal.”
I felt a chill run down my spine at his description of himself. “Why don’t you let her be the judge of that?”
Chapter Thirty Four
Jake
I stood with my hand against the door so she couldn’t leave.
I took the last three days off work, so we could spend every minute with other. That didn’t turn out as I hoped, because she had other people she wanted to say goodbye to, people that she wasn’t going to see again for years.
But I was different. Once she was gone, that was it. I wanted nothing to do with her. Tears streamed down her gorgeous face as she wrapped her long arms around my neck. “You’ve got to let me go,” she whispered into my ear. “I’ll miss my plane.”
“Good.”
She peeled each of my fingers off the door and I eventually succumbed. Who am I to stand in the way of an activist and her fish?
“I’ll message you.”
“I won’t answer.”
“I’ll keep contacting you until you do.”
“If I’m letting you go now, then you have to let me go later. Nothing is fair in love and war.” What the fuck would I know? I just used the word “love” again and I didn’t care, and she didn’t flinch, as if she knew. As if she knew that I loved her and didn’t feel the same way. That was why I could not stay in touch with her. That was also why, as soon as she disappeared from sight, I’d be bringing out the hidden bottle of ol’ Rip and drinking it until memories of her dissipated into oblivion.
She gave me one last kiss then shut the door behind her, carrying the bags she came with and my heart. Probably my guts as well, since I seemed to have lost them along the way.
I stared at the door for some time before my feet would move from that spot. I put Soundgarden on my IPOD and walked into her room to remove the sheets from her bed with the intention of burning them. I didn’t want any essence of her left inside in this apartment. That meant irradiating her sweet vanilla scent, strands of long, blonde hair that I often found everywhere and any object that she may have left behind unintentionally. Even if it was important, it’s going to burn.
After five minutes I climbed into the back of my closet to seize the bottle of bourbon that Croyden bought for me yesterday and I began to drink. Not slowly, but gulping straight from the bottle, neat, without water. That’s me. I’m a hard bastard. Just call me Jake Iron Clad Austin.
I messaged Mac and Croy to see if they fancied coming over to play Grand Theft.
Croy: Dude! It’s 2am in the morning!
I looked at the time on my phone and he was right. I’d forgotten Brydes had taken an early morning flight to Brazil or Mexico or where ever the hell she was going. Fuck time! Fuck Mexico! Fuck the entire continent of South America!
I woke up on my bathroom floor. I had puke all over my tee shirt and my throat and stomach felt scoured as if it had become a dumping site for acidic toxic waste.
The bottle of Rip was empty and lying next to the toilet, $1800 literally down the drain. I laughed out loud at the thought of it. The sewers were laced in gold thanks to the youngest Austin. “You can thank me later.”
I climbed to my feet, still laughing at my joke about the $1800 down the drain. Then I remembered that if anyone found out, Brydes would get punished. I shushed myself so no one could hear me as I walked to her room, using the wall to keep me upright.
“We gotta keep this to ourselves, Brydes,” I slurred, when I got to her room. “I prom-prom I won’t tell anyone.”
It was late; she was probably asleep. I clambered onto her bed to find that it wasn’t a warm blooded human lying there but a pile of sheets that I threatened to burn, even though I wasn’t sure where. Maybe in the park, which was a federal offence, I think. I might have to Google it to make sure.
Brydie wasn’t there. It then dawned on me she was halfway to Guatemala or wherever. Where the fuck did she say she was going?
“Arctic. No, that’s north. She’s going south. Who cares? Fuck Brydie. Yes, please.”
I crawled onto her bed, lay my head down and went back to sleep. When I woke up again, it was daylight and I was sporting a hangover from the mansion of Satan. Fuck you, Satan!
“You know Satan and Cupid are the same creature, right?”I said to no one.
I rolled off the bed and clambered my way to the bathroom where I found my phone on the floor near the bottle of bourbon I demolished. I checked my messages to find one from Brydie that I instantly deleted without reading, because I’m Jake Iron Clad Austin. Then I immediately regretted it because the message may have been important, like to say she’d left the oven on, or something.
Just to save my nerves I went to check the oven, and it was off. Phew! I had a look at the other recent messages and calls on my phone to make sure that I hadn’t contacted her while pissed as a Vicar on Sunday. Luckily, I hadn’t. But I had made a phone call to Mac, as well as sent texts to both Mac and Croy. I then put the coffee on and proceeded to delete Brydie O’Neal from my life.
After taking a shower and putting on some fresh clothes, I called my secretary to say I wouldn’t be coming in. Then I lay on the couch and drowned in my sorrows while watching re-runs of Housewives of Beverley Hills, whose lips seemed to get plumper with each episode.
After a couple of hours, I switched the TV off and the Beverley Hill’s bitching turned into silence. Ugly, empty silence. I heard the floorboards creak and jumped three foot into the air. There was nothing there, just the apartment moving to its own sad tune.
“You miss Brydie too, do you?” I asked the apartment.
It didn’t answer.
“Too bad, ‘cos she’s gone! See, she abandoned both of us.”
I lay there for several moments listening to the distant sounds outside, wondering how long I was to feel this way for. I didn’t feel like shit because I drank an entire bottle of Winkle. I felt this way because of her. Okay yes, I was hung-over as well, so that didn’t help. But the hang-over will be gone by the end of the day, my aching heart will stay on for a while.
Then an idea came to me out of the blue. Actually, it wasn’t an original idea. In fact someone else, who’s name shall not be mentioned, had given me the idea in the first place.
I got my lazy, self-pitying self off the couch, grabbed my car keys, took a couple or four of Tylenol and left the apartment.
This was day one of my Life Without Her Saga. So far, I’d give it a 2 out of 10. The only reason it wasn’t less than 2 was because of what I decided to do that day when I left the building.
Chapter Thirty Five
Day Four Without Her
Jake
“What the hell is that?” Corey asked, when he spotted the pile of ginger rags on the floor. The rags then suddenly moved towards him submissively.
“It’s my emotional support dog.”
He gave me a look like I’d swallowed a piece of bull shit off Old MacDonald’s Farm. Corey patted Newman’s head, then picked him up and placing him on his knee to give him a good head scratch.
“What happened to his ears?”
“A victim of abuse.”
There was something special about Newman. It was as if he was determined to be the best good boy ever, so he’d never have to experience someone’s boot or the sharpness of some fucker’s scissors ever again. He stayed in his bed, did as he was told, and peed only once in the apartment. That was my fault for making him wait too long. What a superstar! The agreement with Assisi Animal Shelter was that I fostered him until he finds a forever home. But I suspect I’m going to end up adopting him, just because he’s a cool little dude and my new bud.<
br />
“So the little dog is an O’Neal replacement,” Corey said, amused.
I breathed away my angst, holding back from punching him in his smirking face. “And to help me cope with alcohol withdrawal.”
“Speaking of alcohol,” he began, and I hoped like heck he wasn’t going to say her name again or tell me he’s heard from her, “ I heard you got trashed Thursday and Saturday nights.”
“How do you know that?’ I was stunned. I drank alone on Thursday night and on Saturday I was only with Mac and Croy.
He tapped his nose with his finger.
“Did you put a camera in my apartment?”
“I can’t say.”
“Seriously? I mean you’d have some great late night entertainment if there was a camera when B-her and I got frisky.”
“I’m just disappointed that it took you so long to get into her pants. Man, I had faith in you. Ten days dude, ten days I placed the bet for.” He shook his head, feigning his disappointment. Douchebag.
“What’s the punishment then? She’s not here so you can’t penalize her.”
“Have you heard from her?” He gently placed Newman back on the floor and he trotted to his bed like a good boy. I bought him two beds, one for work and one for home, plus bowls, a collar and lead and top quality dog food. The best money can buy.
“Just a text not long after she left that I deleted before I read it.”
“Why?”
“There’s no point in us staying in contact when I’m never going to see her again.”
“How do you know you’re never going see her again?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know. But I didn’t think it healthy to be hopeful. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Punishment. What is it? Sending me back to rehab?”
“Yeah well, it’s obvious that don’t work.”He gazed out at the sea of secretaries. “Pity we couldn’t find some pretty little thing to room with you. Another pawn.”
“A pretty little thing is exactly what I don’t need right now.”
“No, what you do need is to stop fucking drinking.”
“Why? You drink. I’m sure Trent drinks. Not that I’d know ’cos he never talks to me. But…”
“Yeah, but we can control our liquor. You go all out and eat the lining of your stomach with booze.”
True. I can’t deny that once I start it’s sometimes difficult to stop. “Do Red and mom know?”
“Red knows. He’s disappointed. But I argued that you’re depressed about O’Neal leaving since it’s obvious that you were sweet on her.”
“Dude, can you at least tell me where you got this information from?”
“Are you saying it’s inaccurate?’
“No. I’m admitting to drinking Thursday and Saturday. That’s not the issue. I just want to know how you know.”
“Yeah, I can’t say. Anyway, you’ve been warned. Red’s letting those two indiscretions slide, but get drunk again and there’ll be a consequence.”
“Like what?”
“Like losing your position here at AGI. And another thing…now you haven’t got O’Neal to distract you, you’ve got to catch up on your Business Degree. Instead of drinking in the weekends and the evenings, how about studying instead?”
I winced at the thought of it. I loved my job there, especially working on the Angel Investments. I’d hate to lose my position and have to look elsewhere for a job. He was right about the Business Degree. Due to having a hot roommate, I had slackened with the studying.
Red had a rule that all four of his children must have a degree in business before working for him. The rule was stretched for me, when I had my first stint in rehab after a drinking game went wrong in college, involving cheerleaders and the chancellor’s daughter. He pulled me out, sent me to the best rehab money could buy, only for me to start drinking again as soon as I went back to college. That’s when he made the executive decision to pull me out of college and set me to work in the firm so the family could watch over me.
It seemed I was getting special privileges. Why my parents were treating me differently to the other siblings was anyone’s guess. Although if I were to place a bet I’d say it had something to do with them not being around when I was growing up. So, you could say my privileges really stemmed from their guilt.
I spotted Mac’s tall, broad frame pausing at the glass wall to flip me the bird. Corey rolled his eyes.
“What’s that chump doing here?”
“I’ve hired him to do some investigating for me.”
“I hope you’re paying him out of your own wage.”
“Yes, Corey. Don’t freak out, dude. I wouldn’t dare use any of the billions lying around to hire a law school student to potentially make AGI a better business on the whole.”
“What the fuck are you on about?”
“It’s a secret project.”
Mac tapped on the door and Newman let out a little bark as a warning. Corey leaned over and patted him on the head to let him know that he was a good dog for barking at my friend.
“Enter at your own risk,” I called to Mac. He entered and nodded to Corey who was on his way out, then he took the seat behind the desk.
“How’s it going, dude?” he asked, taking off his backpack and giving me a fist pump.
“You don’t communicate with him, do you?” I asked.
“Who, Corey?”
“No, Bradley Cooper. Of course I mean Corey.”
“He ignores me most of the time.”
“He found out I was drinking on Thursday and Saturday night. As far as I know, it’s only you and Croy who knew.”
Mac’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“Nah, man. I just can’t figure out how he’d know.”
“I’d never snitch on a friend, you know that. Ol’ Croy wouldn’t either, unless he was drunk. You know how his mouth goes off when he’s been tossing back rum and cokes.”
“True.”
“No filter, that one.”
“Yeah.” Then the conversation I had with Leon Malone echoed through my mind like it was yesterday. I hadn’t thought of it until then, probably because I’d been stressed about her assault. I’d still like to find that fucker and impale him, Vlad style. “Does Nadia have anything to do with Leon Malone?”
He screwed his face up. “I fucking hope not. Why?”
“Nothing. Just something he said to me a few weeks back.”
“C’mon, dude, don’t leave me hanging.”
“He asked me if I had her number.”
Confusion washed across his face. “As far I know, she’s never met him. So how would he even know she existed?”
I shrugged and decided to let it go. There was no point in creating a drama based on hot air.
“You didn’t give him her number?” Mac asked, looking a tad anxious.
“I don’t have her number. And even if I did I wouldn’t give it to him.”
“Good.” He glanced at Newman who softly growled, showing fear of him. He growled at Croy and Mac when they came over on Saturday night and he growled and barked at most people who crossed his path there at AGI. It’s to be expected that he’s frightened of people, since those who were supposed to look after him, hurt him instead.
It just occurred to me that for some strange reason, he didn’t bark or growl at Corey. There’s always time for him to change his tune.
Mac dragged out his Ipad from his backpack. “So, I checked those companies you wanted me to investigate to see if they’re using practices that may be harmful to the environment or illegal. And apart from an Angel Investment company, they’re all above board as far as I can tell.”
“So, what’s the Angel Investment one?”
“A café called Cats and Coffee, where they let homeless cats roam about the place, hoping the patrons will adopt one.”
“Oh yeah, I remember the family approving funding for that ’cos it’s a growing trend everywhere.”
“But still…biting
into a furry sandwich doesn’t exactly appeal.”
“Are you telling me Cats and Coffee don’t follow hygiene practices?”
“No, their premises are spick and span. But there was a question mark over the coffee they were using. The brand claimed to be Certified Organic when it’s possibly non-organic put into an organic-labeled bag.” He leaned back into his chair and ran his hand through his blond hair.
“So, that’s it?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
I narrowed my eyes at my friend. I’d known Mac for years and there was something else on the tip of his tongue. “Spit it out.”
“What?”
“You’ve got goods on something.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He leaned forward again all full of enthusiasm. “I was bored one day, so I figured why not do some digging on the break-in at Malone’s security firm. I mean, it must piss you off that no one was punished for what happened to Brydie.”
A sharp burning pain struck my chest when he mentioned her name. “That’s the thing. It went dead. She never went back and we heard nothing about what happened to the thugs that broke in. In fact, I still don’t know exactly what happened that night. There’s three hours that need to be filled in. She got knocked out, but I don’t know for how long. She woke up to find the place empty and she was lying on Leon’s office floor.”
“Dude, that’s grim. The police weren’t called, so they couldn’t claim insurance for the damage to the offices, etcetera.”
“Yeah, I know that. I was discouraged from taking her to the hospital. They wanted no authorities involved.”
“That’s because they’re shady as fuck.”
“No kidding. Is that all you’ve got?”
“No way, man. My question to you is, how much do you want to know about what happened that night?”
I paused to think. How much do I want to know? It was me who cleaned up the mess when Malone brought her home. I’m never going to forget that night as long as I live. “Clean her up,” he said to me. Clean her up. I shuddered reliving it, her bloodied body lying on the bathroom floor. The anger was still fresh.
