AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Elliot Thompson?” I repeat. “Yes…Yes, I know him.”
“Thank God,” he exhales. “My name is Adam. I’m a bartender at Cellar 23, a pub in downtown Dallas. Elliot comes here almost every night after work, but I’ve never seen him like this. He’s…He passed out on my bar. I didn’t want to call the police, so I unlocked his phone with face ID and scrolled through his contacts. He kept mumbling on and on about a girl named Roxanne. And when I searched your name in his phone, you were the only Roxanne that came up.”
He pauses before continuing, but I barely register the silence because I’m so hung up on what he said.
He kept mumbling on and on about a girl named Roxanne.My heart somersaults in my chest at that sentence.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” he adds. “I...I didn’t know who else to call.”
“No, I’m glad you called me,” I reply without hesitation. “I live downtown, so you’re probably only a few blocks away. I’ll put Cellar 23 in my phone and be there as soon as possible. I’m going to head that way now.”
“Thank you so much, ma’am.” He sounds so relieved.
“Is he stable?” I ask. “Like how drunk is he? Do you think we need to call an ambulance?”
“He’s notthatfar gone, but I’m afraid he may not remember how to get home, even if he calls an Uber. I know he lives in a high-rise condo, and I can’t see him operating an elevator, much less finding his door like this. I’ve never seen him this drunk before. I just think someone needs to be with him…and I don’t know, monitor him while he sleeps tonight.”
Jesus Christ.
I feel a protective urge to interrogate the bartender. How the hell did he let Elliot get this bad?
“Who allowed him to get this drunk? Isn't it your responsibility as a bartender to stop people from overdoing it?”
I’m trying to keep my calm, but my voice rises with each word as my cheeks heat with anger.
“I just got here twenty minutes ago for my shift and found Elliot like this,” he responds without missing a beat. “Trust me, I will be having a long talk with my manager about the bartender who just clocked out. But as I’m sure you’re aware, Elliot can beveryconvincing when he wants something. I serve Elliot almost every night, and I always stop him before he gets to this point.”
He pauses, sounding choked up as he clears his throat.
“Look,” he says weakly. “I’ve grown to have a soft spot forElliot. He’s a good guy…But he needs help. I didn’t want to call the authorities, and this was my last resort.”
He needs help.
Hearing those three words has my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach. Elliot walks around with a savior complex, but deep down, he’s broken. So fucking broken.
Something or someone shattered him, and now, he won’t let anybody get close enough to help.
“I’m sorry for blaming you,” I exhale, rubbing a sweaty palm against my forehead. “I’m just…worried about him. I’m leaving right now. My phone says I’ll be there in eight minutes. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything before I arrive.”
I bolt around the apartment, grabbing my keys and purse.
“Thank you so much,” he replies sincerely. “I’ll see you soon.”
I rush out the door, my heart thumping erratically against my chest as I sprint to my car.
ELEVEN
Roxy
I burst through the doors of the industrial-style bar, my eyes bouncing around the dimly lit space. My heart drums in anticipation of what I’m going to find.
Like a moth drawn to a flame, I spot him immediately.
My breath hitches at the pitiful sight before me.
Elliot’s one of three patrons left in the pub. The upper half of his tall, lean body is draped across the bar like a veil. His head rests on top of his folded arms, and his eyelashes quiver like he’s having a terrible dream.
I’ve only ever seen Elliot in a suit, so it’s jarring to see him in casual clothes. He’s wearing dark jeans and a gray henley that’s wrinkled and disheveled. His honey-brown hair flops against his forehead, the strands a messy mixture of curly and straight. His full lips are pursed together in a way that looks painful. It’s as if he never relaxes, even in his sleep.
