What happened next, I didn’t expect. The hands and mouth pulled back as though I’d shocked them before I felt the whoosh of a body whisking away. Right before I fell back into my stupor, I heard what sounded like another bottle breaking against something.
Chapter Eleven
I fell asleep to the sound of breaking glass and woke up to the sound of raised voices. They weren’t really raised. They were more like exploding.
“Didn’t expect to see you around this place ever again, Walker. Were you in the mood for slumming it?”
“So help me God, Garth! If you touched her . . . If you did anything to her, I will finish what I should have months ago.”
I knew the voices were Jesse and Garth, and I could tell they were behind me, but I was incapable of anything else. I couldn’t open my eyes, I couldn’t open my mouth, and I certainly couldn’t get up and go break up the on-the-horizon fight.
I was somewhat aware but totally immobile. The alcohol had been especially potent after my month of sobriety.
“You were a lot more fun to be around when you didn’t treat me like I was some bottom feeder preying on girls. I’ve never touched anyone without them wanting it, asking for it, or in a case you’re aware of . . . begging for it.”
“You son of a bitch!” I heard some shuffling and a dull crack that sounded like a fist connecting with flesh and bone.
Garth’s throaty laugh sounded next. “I like this whole anger thing you’ve got going on. You were boring when all you ever did was smile and play the part of Mr. Perfect.”
I heard Jesse take a few slow breaths before replying. “What is Rowen doing here?”
“She came to see me. She wanted to shoot the shit with someone who wouldn’t put her to sleep after thirty seconds of conversation.”
Jesse made some sort of noise between a huff and a snort.
“I know it must blow your mind that a girl would prefer me to you, but it wouldn’t exactly be the first time. Would it?” Garth’s voice was cool and removed.
I knew it was coming before I heard the next crack. Garth chuckled again before spitting. Jesse must have nailed him in the jaw.
“Stay away from Rowen. And stay away from me.” Jesse’s voice quivered with emotion.
“I have no problem staying away from her. She’s nothing but your regular, dime-per-dozen girl, but I can’t promise she’ll stay away from me.” After a long pause, I heard footsteps heading up a couple metal stairs. “Oh, and one more thing,” Garth said, his tone so overly innocent it sounded just the opposite. “If this trailer’s arockin’, don’t come aknockin’. Oh wait, you already know that, don’t you?” Another dark laugh sounded before a door screeched closed.
So much silence passed, I was almost passed out again when I heard a pair of footsteps shuffling my way. A moment later, two muscled arms glided beneath my body and lifted me out of the chair.
Jesse didn’t say a word and I still couldn’t, but even if I could have, I didn’t know what to say. I was drunk. I’d messed up. Jesse had been the one to find me eyeballs deep in both. It was what needed to happen. He needed to see who I was because that made everything easier. I could only push him away for so long before I caved, but after he saw what I was, I didn’t have to worry. His dimples wouldn’t be waiting for me at the kitchen table anymore.
That was what I did. That was how I protected myself. I pushed others away before they could do it to me. It was a self-preservation default, but as I nestled into Jesse’s arms for the last time, I knew pushing him away was the opposite of self-preservation.
Chapter Twelve
There are headaches. And then there’s what I awoke to the next morning.
I was in my bed, and even though the curtains were drawn, the line of sunlight streaming through the middle made my head throb when I opened my eyes. I didn’t know what time it was, I didn’t know what day it was, but I knew I needed water and ibuprofen. STAT.
After prying myself up, I swung my legs over the edge of my bed. The motion hurt so badly, my stomach churned. I wasn’t sure I could make it over to the wastebasket in time if my stomach decided to unleash on me.
My boots and socks were off, and on the nightstand was a tall glass of water, three brownish, round pills, and a note with my name penned across the front. I went for the water and pills first, guessing I’d need them inside of me before I read whatever was inside of that note.
I couldn’t remember what had happened last night; I just remembered bits and pieces. Images, words, sensations. Garth’s dark eyes, Jesse’s heated voice, the burn of tequila trickling down my throat, stubble brushing across my neck.
Stubble . . .
Oh, shit.
One of the two men from last night always had a five o’clock shadow. Another one’s face was smooth as smooth could be. The one whose mouth had been on me last night was not the one I’d thought.
My stomach rolled again.
I tossed the pills into my mouth and swallowed them with a long drink of water. The coolness felt so good running down my throat, I finished the entire glass.
After dropping the glass back onto the nightstand, I went for the note. Jesse’s handwriting made me eager to read it, but after last night and the piecemeal memories I had from it, I was just as apprehensive.
Before I over thought it for one more second, I unfolded the note and read. I didn’t take long to finish. The note was short, concise, and heartbreaking.
What’s up?