Page 51 of The Quiet After The Fall

What does she see in this guy? He looks like he lives in his van and showers once a month. And a leather jacket? It’s fucking July. What a douchebag.

The worst part of it all is that Sawyer’s actually talking to him and laughing. Not the customer service laugh. Not the guarded expression she wears with me sometimes.

I take a long sip of beer and watch her laugh at something he says, head tipped back, throat exposed, completely unguarded.

I’ve seen that laugh exactly twice in the last year. They weren’t directed at me either time. I haven’t been so lucky. The first was her and Owen teasing each other over something dumb from our childhood. The other, that day at Wonder World, before everything went to shit. She had no idea what seeing her laugh did to me. How the sound could reorganize my cells into someone new. Someone less jaded.

She hasn’t laughed like that with me since we were kids. Not really. Not without some kind of sadness underneath.

And this guy gets it. This fucking stranger. Must be nice to have no trauma attached, no dead brother between them, no dysfunctional arranged marriage bullshit. Just a stranger with overgrown hair and no baggage, and she’s giving him the version of herself I’d take a bullet for one more chance with.

I hate him for it. Hate myself more for being the reason she has to go looking somewhere else to find it.

“Knox?”

I glance toward the sound before whoever it is decides to yell louder. It’s Sal. Jesus Christ. Sal Marino, who used to do landscaping for my parents before he retired, peering at me over his pool cue like he’s not sure if he’s seeing things. His voice could set a record for highest decibel…I’m convinced he’s half deaf from a lifetime of operating lawn mowers with no ear protection.

“Knox Aldrich? That you back there?”

“Wrong guy,” I say, low, not looking up from my beer.

He squints another second, shrugs, and turns back to his shot. I exhale and keep my gaze away from the bar again for almost a full minute, just in case.

When I do look, they’ve got their heads bent close together over something on his phone. Her shoulder’s brushing his. Their thighs are touching.

I down the rest of my beer in one long gulp and order another before it even hits my gut.

When the server comes back, I stop her with a hand on her forearm. She turns, brow raised. “Sorry.” I clear my throat. “That woman over there.” I gesture to Sawyer with my chin. “Does she seem okay? I’m getting bad vibes from the guy she’s with.”

She glances in their direction then back at me and I swear she has pity in her eyes. “Seems good to me.”

“But are you sure? Maybe you should ask, just in case.” My leg starts bouncing, and she clocks it. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Yeah, alright.” She takes a step back and fuck, I can’t blame her. I’m a guy alone in the dark corner by the pool tables, chugging beer and grabbing her arm. I’d keep clear too.

Sawyer says something and the guy laughs loud enough to carry over the jukebox. She’s got that pleased look on her face, the one that means she nailed whatever she was going for. I know that look. I spent years trying to be the reason for it.

He leans in another inch.

My hand tightens around the bottle. I can’t fucking do this.

Five more minutes.

Long enough to make sure nothing stupid happens…he doesn’t slip anything in her drink or lead her somewhere she doesn’t want to go. That’s the job tonight. Make sure she’s safe. That’s all this is.

Except five minutes turns into hours, waiting until he closes his tab.

He pays in cash, which means I can’t bother the bartender for a name. A sign that he’s hiding something.

They stand and she grabs her bag off the back of the stool.

My whole pay in cash idea goes out the window when I pull out my wallet and do the same. I don’t wait for her to come collect it, I’m out the back door before I lose them.

The lot’s dim, just the one working streetlamp throwing weak light over half the cars. I keep to the shadows along the dumpsters, my pulse jumping with each step. I’m maybe ten feet from my Jeep when I see them by her car.

His fucking hand is on her jaw.

A roar sounds in my ears.