Page 102 of Hate To Love You

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Page 102 of Hate To Love You

I had to get away from this feeling. I found the nearest open bar and collapsed onto a stool. The bartender gave me a strange look but didn’t balk when I ordered three shots of whiskey.

“Hard day?” the bartender asked as he pushed the shot glasses toward me.

I downed one, then another. “You could say that,” I croaked as I finished off the third.

I was drunk within ten minutes. It didn’t numb the pain completely, but it helped. It made it feel like I might survive this ordeal.

I didn’t care that my mom had just died from drinking herself into oblivion. I didn’t care that Ben had died because he’d been drunk and gotten behind the wheel.

I didn’t care that alcohol seemed to be the cause of every hurt in my life. At that moment, it was my savior. It was the only thing keeping me from falling into a dark pit that I was terrified I’d never get out of.

I somehow ended up in a nearby booth. I’d lost count of how many shots of whiskey I’d drunk. It got to the point that the bartender actually cut me off, the asshole.

“Should I call you a ride?” he’d asked.

I had my head on the table, and it took all my strength to lift it. “Nah,” I slurred. “I didn’t drive, anyway.”

“Well, that’s good, at least.” The bartender sighed and took away the empty glasses.

I was about to order from a bartender who’d just started her shift when a guy came up to my booth. He leered down at me, reeking of cigarette smoke.

“Is that you? Carmichael? Shit, never thought I’d see you in a place like this,” he said.

“Whaddya want?”

“Man, aren’t you dating your coach’s daughter? Damn, she’s a fine piece of ass. I can’t blame you there. I’d fuck her, too.” He laughed like he’d made the most hilarious joke ever.

Grace. He was talking about Grace. Red filled my vision. Before I knew it, I’d grabbed the guy by the collar and was punching him. I punched him again, not caring that blood was running from his nose, not caring that there were hands trying to pull me away from him. I just wanted to keep punching him until he knew he could never, ever talk about Grace like that again.

The cops arrived soon after. I’d been unlucky, apparently, because a cop car had parked across the street after pulling somebody over for speeding. Then I was on the ground andbeing handcuffed, my head whirling, feeling like I was going to vomit and desperately hoping that I wouldn’t. The last thing I needed was to puke all over myself and be stuffed into a police car.

I was in the back of the police car for a while, my arms aching as much as my head. I tasted blood on my tongue.

Then one of the cops returned, opened the door, and said, “We’re taking you in for assault and drunken and disorderly conduct.”

I didn’t protest. I didn’t even give a fuck that I was being arrested. I just sighed and closed my eyes.

I was processed, fingerprinted, read my rights, and tossed in a cell to await my bail hearing. The only thing fortunate about my situation was that the judge could probably see me later that afternoon.

I knew I needed to call somebody. The Blades had an attorney on hand. But I was too drunk and tired to care. Besides, until I saw a judge, I wasn’t going anywhere.

By the time I’d gone before the judge, I’d sobered up enough to know I was in deep shit. Sure, I could afford almost any bail the judge set, but my reputation with the team was already hanging by a thread.

I also realized that I didn’t know anybody’s phone number. Who did when everybody had a cell phone these days?

Ironically, the only number I could remember was my mom’s landline when I’d been in foster care. I’d called her often right after I’d been placed in that first foster home, but eventually, I’d stopped trying when she never picked up.

I was too tired to care after that. I ended up puking up the rest of the alcohol in my system and fell into a fitful sleep.

“Carmichael,” a man barked, jerking me awake. “Somebody’s here for you.”

It took me a second to remember where I was. “Who is it?”

“Some woman. Come on, she just bailed you out. Lucky you.”

BRADY

When I saw that it was Julia, not Grace, waiting for me outside the county jail, my hopes plummeted.


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