Page 5 of His Holy Chaos

We both know where this conversation is going. We've been here before, over and over ever since Emmett ended things with us. With me first, and then him. He got over it much faster than me. I think you could say I have attachment issues. Callum and I used to be collar brothers, now still best friends, eternally bound by the memory of the same man who broke us in different ways. That’s why now we call each other brothers, and we’d do so forever.

"Thought you were done with the scene, bro," he says, and I hear pity in his tone. There it is again. Everybody pities poor Jude. Broken beyond repair.

"I'm done with a lot of things. Doesn't mean they're done with me." The server returns with our shots, unaware that Glynn had cut me off, and I raise mine in a toast. "To forgetting the past."

Callum smiles. "Like that's ever worked."

We throw back the shots in unison. The liquor burns. It’s good. I welcome the fuzzy edges already blurring my vision.

"I saw you talking to that older guy with Dave," Callum says, signaling for another round, even though I know Glynn will want to kill me if they catch me drinking more. "That’s the Dom you mean? New victim?"

I scoff, "Just making conversation. It’s nothing."

"Right. Because you're known for your friendly, no-strings-attached conversations with strangers." He knows me too well, sees through my carefully constructed nonchalance. It's why I both seek him out and avoid him. Callum holds up mirrors I'd rather smash.

"Speaking of strings," I say, going for a failed casual tone. "Seen our mutual friend lately?"

Callum's expression darkens. "Don't."

"What? I'm just asking about dear old Daddy. Aren't we allowed to reminisce about the good times?" My voice is ridiculously bitter. I shouldn’t. I know. I shouldn’t do many things. I suddenly think Glynn is right. I had too much. I feel the tears in my eyes.

"Jude… stop. It’s okay, bro. Come here,” he says and comes to sit by my side, then hugs me, placing my head on his chest. I linger in his embrace for a second too long. It feels warm and good. “I love you, bro. I got you.”

“I love you too,” I say and then the tears start. I’m so fucking furious with myself. I’m crying again. Over him. Again. Callum lets me cry and even shushes me, as if I were a baby. I hate it and I couldn’t be more grateful at the same time.

When I’m marginally better, I feel so tired. There are private rooms here and Glynn would let me crash there for sure. But I want to go home.

Callum knocks back another shot, his movements growing less precise. "He wasn't all bad, you know. I like to remember our time together.”

I want to say ‘good for you’ but I don’t. He doesn’t deserve my bad mood.

"That's the fucking problem, isn't it?" I laugh, bitterly. "If he'd been a complete monster, we could have just hated him. But no, he had to be wonderful."

He hugs me again, and this time I don’t let go of his chest for a long time, just listening to his heart, feeling his grounding arm around me.

The club is beginning to empty around us, the music shifting to something slower. Our booth feels increasingly isolated. Callum stares into his empty glass.

"I saw him last month," he admits finally, not meeting my eyes. "At that leather conference in San Diego."

Something cold settles in my stomach. "And?"

"And nothing. He asked about you."

I swallow, my throat feels tight. "What did you tell him?"

"That you were fine," Callum says. “Was I lying?"

The question hangs between us. I reach for another shot, but Callum's hand covers mine, stopping me.

"Enough," he says, softly. "Go home, Jude. Before you do something you'll regret more than usual."

"Too late for that," I mutter, but I slide out of the booth anyway, legs unsteady beneath me. The room tilts and sways, the lights leaving trails across my vision. "You coming?"

Callum shakes his head. "I need a minute. Get home safe. Text me when you get there. Promise you will. Promise you won’t forget."

I give him a mock salute that nearly sends me toppling over. "Aye aye, captain."

The club's exit takes me onto a busy street, even at that time. I fumble for my earbuds, plugging them in and scrolling through my phone until I find the playlist labeled ‘Bad Decisions’. I hit shuffle, and Tove Lo's ‘Habits’ fills my ears, her voice singing about getting high to forget someone, and yeah, that tracks. Fucking perfect.