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Reese is bent over the table snorting lines. I’m immediately transported to another time. One I’ve tried to forget every day for the last two years.
“Drew, come play with me,” Alexa calls to me from the other room. Her whiny drawl grates on my nerves. I’m drunk and don’t want to deal with her. “Do you have any blow?” The girl is out of her mind. I’m fucked beyond belief, but even I know my limits.
“Alexa, I’m out.”
“But—”
“No.” I know she won’t let this drop, so I reach in my pocket and throw her the little baggy I bought but haven’t opened yet. “Here. Take it. I need to sleep sometime tonight.” I can hear her sigh in resignation.
“You’re no fun.”
I should tell her to come to bed with me. I should insist that she does. But instead, I watch her take the bag I gave her and throw some on the table. I walk around the corner in time to see her take a bump.
I shake myself back to the present. “What the fuck!” I scream, trembling from being so fucking pissed. “What did I tell you last time?”
Reese slowly looks up, completely unfazed by my outburst. “Lighten up, man. Nobody saw us,” Reese says with a lazy smile. I want to beat the fuck out of him.
“You’re fucking kidding me. We have been over this a million times. Come on. What the hell would Alexa say if she were here?”
His face goes pale at the mention of Alexa, and his eyes narrow on me.
“You’re one to talk,” he snaps back, and I take a step closer, making him crane his neck to see me better.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You act all high and mighty. But don’t forget I was there. You gave her those drugs . . .”
The drugs that killed her.
The drugs that hurt so many people.
It’s all my fault.
It feels like a knife is stabbing me in the heart. Then twisting slowly to inflict the most pain.
The day she died will always be burned into my brain. I can’t escape it because it was my fault.
“Fuck you, Lawson. You didn’t even give a flying fuck about her.” His words are slurred and barely understandable. “And if you’re not careful, I’ll make sure everyone knows your part in her death.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I look at the chick next to him. “Do you want to die?”
She looks at me without a care in her miserable world. “It was only one line,” she slurs out.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I say to the skank. She grabs her jacket and scurries out. I turn back to Reese. “Clean yourself up, Reese. Go home.” He doesn’t move. “Now!”
He just stares at me, and I continue to glare at him. He finally gets the hint that I’m not changing my mind on this.
“All right, I’m out. Fuck this place.” He walks out, barreling into my shoulder on his way. “And fuck you.”
I go to work cleaning up their shit. I can’t have anyone else seeing this because I’ve done my best to rid my life of drugs. This club was reinvented after Alexa’s death. I fired the staff who notoriously sold the contraband, made it increasingly harder to get in, and renamed the club Silver after Alexa Silver as a constant reminder.
In a rage, my hands swipe over the table, knocking everything to the floor. With all the force I can conjure, I throw the table over.
“Fuck!”
Slamming my fists into the wall of the room, I finally calm myself down, focusing on breathing. This whole night has me in a tailspin—first Bailey and now the reminder of Alexa. I’m not sure what has me angrier.
I’m just calming down when Carter comes barreling in. “What the fuck, man? I just got a complaint from room four that there was banging on the wall and shouting. What’s going on?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Get back to the bar.” I don’t give him a chance to speak. I turn and leave the room, desperate to escape to the safety of my office.
I can’t deal with one more thing tonight.
28
Bailey
A few days pass and Drew is missing in action. I’ve been working with Carter all night, taking notes on ways we can run the bar at the new restaurant once it opens. I have to admit, bartending seems fun. Carter is having a blast, and although I’m standing back and watching, I’m having fun watching him.
The night has practically flown by. I haven’t even caught sight of Drew, and I have to admit, I’m thankful for that. I’m trying very hard to stick to my own demands.
Spoke too soon.
Not even a moment after I’d thought about not seeing him, he’s walking through the door with some beautiful model on his arm. The woman is at least five nine and has on a short cocktail dress that shows off her killer legs. Gorgeous doesn’t even begin to describe her.
