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“Not interested.” I try to remain calm on the exterior, but inside, my whole body is shaking.
“It’s just a couple of questions.” He takes another sip. “About the accident and what you have been doing since. How your life has changed.” He places it back down in front of him.
“I said I’m not interested.” I grab his glass from in front of him. “That one is on the house.”
“I don’t want to—” he says.
“You heard her,” Brady declares from behind me. “You can show yourself out.” The man looks over my shoulder and nods before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill, placing it on the bar. “Here is my number.” He leaves a card on top of the money. “Call me if you change your mind. I’ll be in town for a few days.” He turns and walks out of the door, and only when he’s out and I don’t see him do I let go of the breath I was holding on to.
“You okay?” Brady asks. I shake my head and make the mistake of glancing around the bar at a couple of people looking over at us. Knowing that this little scene will be all over town by the time I walk into my house.
“I just need a minute,” I tell him, turning and walking away from the bar and toward the back. My knees shake as I walk through the swinging door. Taking a couple of steps into the room and leaning against the wall, I let it take my weight. I let my eyes close and tip my head back, and I take a deep breath through my nose and out through my mouth. Putting my hands on my knees, I try to steady my breathing.
The door swings open and then closed, and I know Brady has followed me in. “Why don’t you go?” he suggests, coming to squat in front of me. “It’s not like it’s crazy busy.”
“I’ll be okay in a minute,” I tell him, and he gets up and rubs my back.
“It’s been a long day, go home.” His voice is soft. “You are doing too much too soon. You literally came back and didn’t even test the waters. You just jumped in with both feet.”
“So dramatic and bossy.” I try to make light of the situation, but the last thing I want is to go back out there. “I’ll close up tomorrow,” I tell him, and he just laughs.
“You’re on.” He shakes his head, about to turn around. “I know this week has been rough, but”—he runs his hand through his dark hair—“it’s good to have you back.”
I listen to the settling of my heart, as the thumping in my ears eases. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this.” I laugh nervously. “It’s good to be home.” The tears well up in my eyes as I lift my hand and pinch my fingers together. “But only this much.” We both have our laugh before I turn and walk to the office to grab my stuff, picking up a bottle of whiskey and tossing it in my black bag before walking out the back door.
I drive home with the windows down, the hot night feeling like the world is on hold. I don’t bother with the lights when I get home. I kick off my shoes before placing my bag on the floor next to them and grabbing the bottle of whiskey. Going straight to the counter, I put the whiskey on it before walking over to the cabinet on the side and grabbing a shot glass. I pour the whiskey to the rim before taking a shot, which leads to two, then slowly leads into three before I open my eyes. My breathing becomes easier, and the burning down my throat goes numb. My head hangs forward, and I hear the voice of the reporter fill my head, “follow-up segment.” I shake my head, grab the bottle as my hand shakes, and take another shot. I untie the shirt from around my waist and toss it on the table before walking to my bedroom and grabbing a pair of shorts and a tank top.
The moonlight comes in from all the open shades as I grab the bottle and head out to the back to sit in the swing. Sitting in it, I listen to the deadness of the night. Some chirps are going on here and there as I stretch my feet on the bench and put my arm on the back of it, laying my head down on it. Taking a pull of the whiskey, I try to forget the day.
My eyes watch the fireflies in the distance as I put one foot on the wooden deck to push myself back and forth gently. Minutes turn into hours, and I take a pull from time to time. I look at the clearing as I see a figure there, but I’m not sure if my eyes are playing tricks on me. I watch him move closer and closer to me, his white T-shirt sort of shining in the darkness, his jeans dark as the night. He looks down as he makes his way to me, and I take another shot of the whiskey to brace for whatever it is Charlie wants to throw my way. The last time I saw him at the cemetery I made sure that I avoided him like the plague. It wasn’t hard since I went to work and then home. I never ventured out anywhere, especially at the two places he told me never to go.
He must feel me looking at him because he glances up and his eyes see me, and I know because his body goes tight. I take a deep inhale as I turn on the swing and put the bottle of whiskey on the floor before getting up on my feet and walking over to where the three stairs are. My head spins just a bit. “Seriously?” My mouth is talking before my brain can even realize it is. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Seriously,” he replies when he’s standing at the bottom step, looking up at me. His hair is longer than I remember it ever being. “What the fuck are you still doing here?”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Fuck you, Charlie.” Everything is building up inside me.
“No, fuck you!” he roars, and I can smell the alcohol rolling off him. “You ruined my life.”
I shake my head. “Your life is ruined?” I ask him and laugh bitterly. “Your life is fucking ruined? I lost everything that night. Everything,” I hiss at him.
He takes a step up. “I lost my whole life that night.”
“Really?” I ask, baiting him. In the past eight years, I’ve never, ever challenged Charlie, but tonight after a whole fucking week of feeling like a pariah, I’m done with it. “You look to be doing just fine.” I raise my eyebrows. “You have a thriving business. You have no one trying to run you out of town, and if talk is still right, you have your choice of girls lining up to pick up those pieces.” I shake my head, knowing I’m probably hitting him below the belt. “You lost Jennifer that night. You weren’t the only one who lost her. But I lost more than just my best friend. I’m the one who lost it all.” I point at my chest. “Me, not you.” I exhale. “And trust me, every single time I turn a corner, someone is always there to let me know exactly what I did that night. I don’t need it coming to my fucking house.” I turn on my feet and walk to the door, opening it, but it’s being slammed before I can step inside. His hand is over my head, stopping me from opening it. His chest is to my back as I close my eyes, telling myself he’s going to go away if I don’t move. But the anger in me makes me turn to look at him. “Go away.” I push at his chest, and he moves back, but he’s a lot bigger than me. “Why can’t you just go away?” I shout at him, going to push him again when he grabs both my wrists in his hands, pushing them into the door beside my head. My chest rises and falls as we stare at each other with hatred. “I hate you,” I whisper. “I hate you.”
His head comes even closer to me. “Not as much as I hate you,” he retorts, the both of us pant, and I don’t know who does it first. I don’t think either of us is ready for what is to come. I know I’m not.
Chapter Nine
Charlie
I hold her wrists in my hands by her head. As she tells me she hates me, my heart feels like it’s going to explode in my chest. I know I shouldn’t be here. I knew the minute I got up from my couch, after finishing half a bottle of whiskey, I shouldn’t be here. I was on my way to the crash site. But instead, I looked up, and I was here, seeing her on her swing. And for the first time ever, she met me head-on for the fight. I watch her, my eyes staring into hers. “Not as much as I hate you.” I feel like I’ve just been in a horse race. Both of us look like we are ready to go to war but with each other. I don’t know who moves first; I don’t know what the fuck is happening before my lips are on hers. My tongue tastes the whiskey on her lips as I kiss her with the hatred I have for her, and she kisses me with the hatred she has for me. My hands let go of her wrists as they move up to place my palms on hers. As our fingers link together, she grips my hand as the kiss deepens, and we both fight with each other. She loosens her hold on my fingers, and I do the same as she untangles her fingers from mine and lets go of my hand, and I do the same. One hand wraps around her head, the other around her waist. While her hand goes to my head, her fingers grip my hair, not letting me move. Before she moves her hands down, she wraps one hand around the back of my neck while the other wraps around my shoulder. Her back arches in my arms, and her tits press deeper into my chest.
My hand moves down to her ass, grabbing a handful and pushing and squeezing it. She moans into my mouth as I move her away from the door. My heart tells me this is the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever done in my life, while my head tells me this is what I need. There’s the war raging in my head as I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my hips. I pull open the door as I try to kiss the ever-loving shit out of her. It’s hard, it’s wet, it’s heated. It’s everything you think two people who hate each other would feel. We move our heads side to side as I walk into her darkened house, the moonlight guiding me where I want to go. The moonlight guiding me to a place I shouldn’t be going.
I walk into her bedroom, which I’ve been in a couple of times over the years when I had to help her move things. Never, never more. “Fuck,” I swear, letting go of her mouth to trail my lips to her neck, where I suck in deep. She arches her back and unwraps her legs from my hips.
“Fuck is right,” she hisses out before she gets on her tippy-toes and bites my jaw, making it shoot right down to my dick that has never, ever been this hard before. Our mouths attack each other again, but this time it’s not just our mouths. Her hands go to the bottom of my shirt, and she bunches it up as my hand goes to her little white tank top, pulling the little spaghetti strap down her arm and then covering her breast with my hand as I roll the nipple between my finger and thumb. She lets go of my mouth to moan, giving me a chance to bend and suck her nipple into my mouth. Her hands are frantic, trying to get under my shirt. She pulls it up and over my head, my mouth letting her nipple go as she pulls it off.
