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When he finished his drink, I wondered if he’d order another one or finish packing up. He sat his glass on the bar and grimaced, then walked in my direction.
My heart thudded, louder and stronger than that bass had been earlier. This was it. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. I’d stay icy cold. I controlled my breathing but my heart didn’t respond to that. Like in a nightmare, I felt rooted to the ground, not able to move. This was it. This was the moment.
He kept his head down as he got closer to me. No eye contact, no acknowledgement. That made me hate him more, like a cowardly worm trying to wiggle past me.
I thought I’d have to block his way to get him to look at me but he stopped in front of me and looked me in the eye.
“Dee-cakes,” he said.
My heart shrank to the size of a tiny pebble. That’d been Jake’s nickname for me. The name he’d called me since I’d been a baby. Hearing Alex use that name rattled me.
“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that”
I folded my arms. He moved closer. That jerk thought he could use the force of his sexuality to divert me. I’d not be swayed by that, though. My heart beat faster and chills shot through me but I’d never be attracted to that brute again.
He locked our gazes, not answering. He couldn’t hold my stare.
“Why did you do it, Alex? Why did you kill my brother?” I spat the words out.
He sucked his breath in. “It was an accident. You know that. A rainy night on a dangerous stretch of road.”
He moved away but I grabbed his arm.
The old Dee, the one unable to get out of bed, jumping at the sound of every car pulling up, waiting and waiting… and wanting Alex to make it right would’ve left it at that. Part of me still hungered for that. The ice inside me melted away and I was left with a core of need. Even though I despised myself for it, I searched his face for clues.
“I can’t tell you any more than that,” he said.
In that moment, his eyes almost destroyed me. I wanted to see a plea for forgiveness or a trace of regret but those eyes, normally so soulful, had turned to steel. There was no hint of feeling there. I couldn’t lose sight of the real Alex, the monster behind this facade. I thrust my hand into my bag, running my finger along the crisp edge of Jake’s photo.
“Look at you, with your club and your rock band. Do you think people would feel the same about you if they knew what a coward you are? That you killed my brother through your own selfishness, then ran away like a thief in the night?”
He shook me off. “Leave it in the past, Dee.”
“It’ll never be left in the past while I’m alive. You think you can just go on with your life? You have no heart, Alex. No balls either. If you think this is over, think again.”
Alex
I mucked around, tuning my guitar, while waiting for the other guys to turn up for rehearsal. The gig the other night had been a mess and I needed to make sure that we worked to get beyond that. No matter what emotions boiled under the surface, no matter what interruptions, we were professionals. Nothing should touch us.
Of course, I’d never expected Dee to show up in the middle of the gig.
I thought I’d handled things well. As well as I could, under the circumstances. I mean, what could I say to the girl? Sorry? That wasn’t going to cut it. There weren’t words that would make this better. The best way was to let her hold on to her hatred of me, give her some way of making sense of it by making me the bad guy.
After the accident, I waited to be arrested. I’d been taken to the emergency room, not at the public hospital where they’d taken Jake but the fancy private hospital. I had the best of care but the whole time I just kept thinking that Jake was dead and it was my fault, as surely as if I’d driven a knife through his heart.
My parents came in to visit. They didn’t sit down but stood at the end of the bed. I only had some scratches and would be released the next morning. They just wanted to observe me, make sure I didn’t have concussion or any of that.
“This will ruin your future,” my father said.
“Hell, like I don’t know that. Jail time never bodes well.”
My mother poured me a glass of water from the jug beside my bed. I didn’t want it.
