AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I choose this life, over and over again,” I swallow.
“Then don’t let it eat you alive.” She walks over to Trevor and grips his face. “Neither of you.”
“I won’t, Mom, I swear,” Trevor assures her, his eyes spilling over. It’s the look on his face that is eating me alive.
“Don’t, Mom,” I swallow again and again, “don’t do it. Please, don’t do it.”
“Then prove to me you can handle it,” she says between the both of us. “Without losing yourselves.” She peers over at me with my eyes. “You always told me you didn’t want to be one thing, right?”
I nod, feeling the rug being ripped out from under me, just another thing I can’t control.
“Then don’t be one thing.” She leaves Trevor shaking in her wake, and I walk over to where he stands.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let it happen.”
He wipes his face. “What are you doing? When’s it going to be enough?”
“Dad—”
“You’re my Dad,” he interrupts. “I lost him years ago. You had to take over, and I’m sorry for that,” his voice cracks, and he shakes his head. “I can’t lose you too.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“What the hell are you saying…you’re halfway gone already.”
He kicks at the edge of my dresser and scrubs his face. “I just went to get ice cream. What the fuck happened?”
Harper. Harper happened.
Harper
Tossing back a shot with Tony, he grins over at me as I turn the glass over and set it next to the others. “I needed this.”
“Me too.”
I pinch the edge of the stick and take aim, the way Tony taught me. “Three ball, corner pocket.”
“You’re stripes this round.”
“Crap.”
I reposition, take a shot, and miss as Tony steps up for his turn.
Nick sits silently in the corner of the ripped pleather booth, next to where we shoot, his face swollen from rounds of Lance’s brutal blows. My insides match his outsides, feeling just as battered. But I refuse to dwell on it tonight as I look around the decade’s past-prime bar feeling the upbeat vibe before glancing over to Nick.
He’s got an easy smile, but he’s not much for words, much like his recent opponent. Though he has caught the eye of one of the women in the booth adjacent to us. They’ve been going back and forth with lingering looks for the last few songs. “Hey, you,” I say to Nick, who draws his eyes from hers to look at me. I push two of the shots his way. “Take one over to her.”
“Not a bad idea.” He winks in thanks, and I giggle. Vodka does that to me.
Nick saunters away on the prowl while Tony nudges me that it’s my turn.
“How are you doing?”
I scan the table and line up my stick. “Hanging in there.”
“He’s making it tough.”
“I can handle it.”
