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There's no way Iris would keep that a secret.
There's no fucking way.
I slide the card into my back pocket. I go straight to the bar. Fill a plastic cup with ice and whiskey.
It's good shit. Goes down smooth. Sands the edges off my thoughts.
There are soft steps behind me. The
click-clop of women's shoes. Iris's steps. She's wearing those wedges she can't walk in.
Fuck, it's adorable, the way she stumbles. And those things make her the perfect height to pin her to the wall.
But she…
I…
This doesn't make sense.
I finish my glass. It's too much, too fast. But I don't care. I need the buzz pushing my thoughts away.
Her fingers skim my shoulder. "Is your sister okay?"
"Yeah." I refill my glass. Take another swig.
"Are you?" Her voice gets soft.
Is that bullshit too?
Did she mean anything she told me?
My stomach twists as I take another sip. The whiskey fails to help. I can't even taste it.
"Walker…"
"Yeah?"
"What happened?" She moves closer. "Is she using again?"
"No." I take another sip. Turn to face Iris.
Her blue eyes fix on mine.
They're sweet. Sincere.
But are they?
Has she been lying to me all this time?
"She's good. Two months sober." My throat burns, but I take another swig anyway.
Confusion fills Iris's eyes. "Something about that upset you?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah?" She smooths her dress. Stares at her purple nails.
"She said some fucked-up shit."
