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CHAPTER3
Burning Pains~Hunter
The ice rattledin the glass as I poured the molasses-colored liquid over it. I didn't even wait for it to fully settle before bringing it to my lips, letting the alcohol burn my throat. That was how I liked it. The stronger the drink, the stronger the burn, and I needed my drinks stronger than ever since Ashley died and even more with Blue coming to visit.
I knew how fucked up this all was. The time between her last visit had been longer than usual, and I was sure it was my fault. I finished my drink, then poured another. The headache I always felt during the day was beginning to subside, as it always did once I had a couple of drinks in me. I wish I could blame the text I sent Blue on the alcohol, but I sent it long before I began to feel the effects. If I was addicted to the dulling effects of the liquor, it was nothing compared to the influence Blue had on me. Every time she came to town, spent time with me, cared for me, and made me feel like a person again, it was like sliding a needle deep into my vein to release a sweet, irresistible drug.
I'd been far too long without my fix. My living room was a disaster. The carpet was stained brown from the dirt I tracked in each day, and concrete dust covered most of the surfaces, having been shaken loose from my clothes. At least fifty empty bottles of various sizes and shapes cluttered the room.
After staring at my phone, waiting for an answer until well after I knew Blue was already in the air, I finally decided to act like I was about to have someone I cared about show up. I stood, and my entire body raged against me. Every day was the same. Wake up with the sun. Go to work. Pretend to be a functional human, so my employees don't know their boss is a drunken, careless idiot who can't stop thinking about a girl old enough to be my daughter. Go home. Collapse into my recliner and drink until I forget how fucked my life is and somehow fall asleep and do it all over again.
Except today was different. Today I slept in and took the day off to be home when Blue arrived. I almost couldn't believe she was coming. We'd been in touch, and I'd planned to leave her alone until she chose to come back. But it had been too long. I needed her here. I needed to tell her how I felt, and I needed to hear her say it back. So I texted her a few days ago, asking her to come, that I had something important to tell her I didn't want to say over the phone. Miraculously she agreed.
I trudged along the hallway to the bathroom, pressing my hand into the wall for balance as I peed. I let my eyes wander into the hallway, focusing on the sea of tiny nails protruding from the wall, a brutal reminder of what was. I tore down all the pictures which used to hang there. Coming home after seeing Ashley lowered into the ground, I couldn't bear to look at her face, smiling and full of life. It felt like I'd been crushed by the same semi-truck she had. I didn't even remember taking them off the walls, but I remember Blue cleaning up my hand from where I'd broken one of the frames and cut myself.
She told me she put them somewhere safe in case I ever wanted to put them back up, but it had been two years, and although the thought crossed my mind every day, I continued to ignore it and bury the possibility in the depths of my soul. In all honesty, I didn't want photos of my daughter hanging up on the walls because I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes after what happened with her best friend on her last visit and the fact that I was in love with my daughter's best friend. I found my balance and peeled off my shirt and jeans. I tossed them into the hamper and turned the knob to the shower until it couldn’t go any further.
The heat and steam of the shower made my stomach turn as my body tried to process the poison I'd spent the last hour ingesting. I'd hoped I would just start to sweat it out, but I wasn't that lucky. I bent over and emptied my guts down the drain, the booze coming up burning as bad as it had going down. Once I no longer smelled like a dive bar bathroom, I got out of the shower, wrapped a clean towel around my waist, and brushed my teeth three times to rid the vomit lingering on my tongue. Wiping away the steam that coated the mirror above the sink, I stared at a man I no longer recognized. The old cuckoo clock in the living room chimed and broke me out of my haze. I spat out the last of my toothpaste and rinsed my mouth with cool water before heading back to my bedroom. Reaching for a clean shirt and jeans, I got dressed and pulled my hair into a bun. Blue would be here soon.
I fired up the coffee pot, adding more grounds than usual in the hopes that it would sober me up. At this point, I needed all the caffeine I could get to help kill the buzz from my morning elixirs.
I bent over the kitchen island and looked out over the rest of my house while I waited for the motor oil to brew. It was filled with ghosts—ones I couldn't ignore any more than the pounding in my head as a hangover began to slowly consume the intoxication. Right there in that corner was where fourteen-year-olds Ashley and Blue helped me decorate our first Christmas tree in this house. Ashley had been so disappointed that there wasn't a Christmas tree farm nearby for us to go pick out a fresh one. Still, Blue had mentioned that she and her mom hadn’t had a real tree in years, and she spent her first Christmas with Aston in the boring mountains of Vermont, visiting his parents, so she was happy just to have a tree—real or artificial.
Blue wasn't a young teenager anymore. She'd grown into a soft, voluptuous woman long before I allowed myself to see her that way. The sputtering of the coffee maker broke me out of my daydream, and I turned to grab a cup from the cupboard and filled it. My phone chimed, and I looked down at the reminder sliding across my screen. Don’t drink any liquor today. I chuckled as I swiped it away and turned to face the coffee machine. Although I had two drinks this morning, the thought of seeing Blue had my nerves on edge, and I found myself rehashing the events of her last visit three months ago. The one that left both of us on pins and needles.
My phone chimed once more, and I looked down to see a message from Blue. Her plane had landed, and she was getting a rideshare to the house. I took a slow sip, forcing myself to savor the warmth of the bitter coffee on my tongue. I needed to have a clear head when Blue showed up today because she was mine. She had been for longer than either of us knew it. Sheknew it, and she wanted me as bad as I wanted her. There was no other reason she would come on such short notice with a flimsy excuse. In less than an hour, I'd have her back, and I would do anything to keep her.
