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“Preston,” my mother said as she stood. “For your father.”
Glancing around the table, I saw that everyone had their eyes on me. My mother gave me pleading eyes. I stood up and pushed my chair back, causing it to fall backward.
“The one thing I’m looking forward to next year is…” Glancing at Uncle John, I let out a laugh. “Saint Patrick’s Day, a day when I can get drunk and don’t have to answer to anyone.”
“Preston!” my mother and Angie both said at once.
“Excuse me, I’m not much in the mood for eating.” Leaning down to pick up the chair and pushing it back in, I headed up to my room, but not before I stopped in the living room and grabbed a bottle of rum from my father’s li
quor cabinet.
Once I was in my room, I sat down in the chair and stared at my bed. As a took a shot of rum, I could almost feel her hands moving across my body as she softly moaned in my ear.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. I had lost count of how many times I had sent her a text or called and left her a message. Harmony Banks did not want to talk to me. Letting out a laugh, I pulled out the phone number that was shoved into my pocket from last night.
Karen Mitchell. From what I could remember, she was pretty cute. Finn said he would have banged her had she given him her number. But she gave it to me. Said she had the perfect cure for a broken heart.
Tossing my head back, I laughed. “Fuck.” Holding up the rum bottle I said, “This! This is the perfect cure for a broken fucking heart.”
Opening the bottle again, I drank straight from it until I’d finished it off. I stood up, stumbled to my bed, and fell face-first on it as I passed out. Finally, I had drunk enough booze to pass the fuck out.
Sleep had finally come to me.
ONE MONTH LATER
Wiping down the bar, I looked up when the door opened. Uncle John walked in and gave me a smile. “You’re here early.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I simply said, “I was thirsty.”
Walking around the bar, my uncle gave me a push. Not just a small push, but a push so hard it caused me to lose my balance and fall on my ass.
“What the fuck, Uncle John?”
He pointed at me. “Don’t get up. Sit there for a second while I talk to you.”
Not moving an inch, I sat there, frozen. I’d seen my uncle beat the shit out of men twice my size. No way in hell was I gonna move.
“Are you finished yet?”
Tilting my head, I looked at him. “Excuse me, sir?”
Slowly shaking his head, he let out a breath. “Are you done walking around with your goddamn head stuck up your ass, trying to drown your problems in alcohol?”
Looking away, I shook my head. “I don’t know what else to do.”
Laughing, he gave me a kick.
“Ouch. Motherfucker! That hurt, Uncle John!”
“Good! Maybe it will wake your ass up. You don’t know what to do? Son, you find her.”
Standing up, I wiped my ass off and rolled my eyes. “I don’t know where she is. I have no damn clue where to even think of finding her.”
Frowning, my uncle narrowed his eyes at me. “Is that so? Maybe you don’t love her like you thought you did.”
It felt like someone had just punched me in the gut. “What?”
Taking off his coat, Uncle John hung it up and then walked over and poured himself a draft of Guinness. Taking another glass, he filled it and slid it down the bar to me. Grabbing it, I took a drink.
