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“You should come home with us.” Cyrus says, shaking my shoulder to rouse me awake. I don’t know how long I was out, but if the furrow in his brow is any indication, it was long enough for them to be concerned. “Drowning your sorrows away here isn’t helping anyone.”
I shake my head and I let out a bitter laugh. That’s what no one here seems to understand.I’m doing all of this to help her.
It’s been weeks since Stevie vanished. Plenty of time for her to clear her head and try to make contact if she wanted to. We kept our distance because that’s what she needed, but after the dust settled, she stayed gone.That was her fucking choice.
It may seem pointless now, but for once in my life, I’m going to let her decide. And if I have to be wasted 24/7 to stop myself from getting into my car and dragging her ass back home, then so fucking be it.
“Go home without me.” I bite back, giving him a fake smile as I stare out into the crowd. “I’m staying. Besides, Ezra’s going to need help with cleanup when he’s done.”
Alex’s disappearance forced us to take a hard look at the people we surround ourselves with. We still don't know who took her but, it’s obvious, whoever it was, was close. So, for the interim, we’re keeping our business, ours. Which means no cleanup crews and no unnecessary involvement with anyone who isn’t family. At least until we find the mother fuckers responsible.
“Yeah.” Cyrus bites back sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ll be a big fucking help in the state you’re in.”
I narrow my eyes at Cyrus and it takes all the willpower I have to hold in the venomous shit I want to throw in his face. About how his messy track record with women and temper probably helped push her away, but I think better of it. We still don’t know why she left and pointing the finger at each other is only going to make it worse.
Tristan stands up and forces himself in between us before turning to face me. “We’re going to go get s… some air.” He says, grabbing Cyrus by the lapel of his jacket and pulling him up off the couch. “But we aren’t letting you s… stay here alone, asshole. So stop trying to get us to leave.”
I can’t help but smile to myself as I watch the two of them head towards the side door. He’s right. I can be an asshole. Lately, more than usual. But he’s a good kid. They both are. And I shouldn’t be taking this shit out on either of them.
They don’t show it, but I’m sure they’re hurting too. Stevie had a connection with all of us and fuck if that doesn’t make things worse. Seeing any of my brothers in pain is hard, but having to watch all three of them go through this is a fucking nightmare, sober or not.
“Jack and Coke.”
The sound of the server’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts. She stands there for a few seconds, lingering just on the outskirts of my peripheral. She wants my attention, but I don’t even bother acknowledging her presence. I have no patience for niceties tonight.
“All alone?” She asks, throwing her cleavage into my face as she leans over to set my drink down in front of me. “Where’s that cute little girlfriend of yours?”
I resist the urge to laugh at her lack of subtlety and lean forward to pick up my glass as soon as she’s clear. By now, I’m sure the entire club is painfully aware of Stevie’s absence, but I’ll bite. Anything is better than being alone with my thoughts.
“Don’t know.” I say, taking a slow sip as I stare out into the crowd. “And don’t particularly care.”
I smirk at the ease with which the lie slips from my lips. Maybe if I can convince her I don’t care, I'll be able to convince myself.
“So you broke up?” She blurts, doing a shit job of disguising the excitement in her voice as her eyes widen. “I’m so sorry to hear.”
Her act of sympathy is bullshit. She doesn’t give a fuck about me any more than I give a fuck about her. She's just asking what I'm sure everyone else in this place wants to know.What happened to Stevie?
I rest the glass on the edge of my lips and mull over her words with mild amusement. A fucking break up. God, if only the shit between Stevie and I were that simple. She wasn't just a girlfriend, or a casual fuck.She was everything.
The server mistakes the bitter expression on my face as an invitation and takes advantage of the opening. She sets her serving tray aside and moves behind me, bracing her hands on the edge of the couch.
“You poor thing.” She coos, leaning over me in a not-so-subtle ploy to get closer. “You look so tense. Do you want to talk about it?”
I turn my head sharply, ready to tell her to back the fuck off, when her appearance stops me in my tracks. It’s the server Stevie fought with. Chrissy? Kirsten? I should’ve recognized the voice as soon as she started speaking, but it's hard to focus on much of anything with this much alcohol in my system. She looks the same, only now, instead of her usual curly red ringlets, her hair is long, wavy, and dark, like Stevie’s.
Seeing where my eyes linger, she instinctively strokes her hair. “I tried something different.” She offers, with a hesitant grin. “Do you like it?”
I don’t tell her the new color is the only reason I haven’t kicked her out yet, but I don’t need to. The choice was intentional, and it’s written all over her face.
“Sure.” I say, lowering my lids as the room starts to spin. There’s a prominent slur to my word, but she doesn’t seem phased by it. She’s emboldened.
“Change is scary sometimes,” she says, stepping around the couch to sit beside me, “but it can also be really good, if you’re open to it.”
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she’s suggesting.
I close my eyes and let my head lull back as she continues to drop more hints. I’m not interested in the slightest, but I’m the one who opened the conversation, so the least I can do is let her talk for a couple of minutes until she gets bored of me.
She will.Unless I give a shit about the person, I’m terrible at holding a conversation. Something about the monotony of small talk makes me want to gouge my fucking eyes out. It’s all so vapid and shallow. If I’m going to talk to someone, I want it to mean something.
