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Shifting in my seat, I give a quick glance beside me, wondering if I’m the only one being affected by Lucy’s voice this way. The twinkle in Bridget’s eyes confirms my suspicions, and I can’t control the pang of jealousy making my jaw clench at the thought of anyone experiencing Lucy like this, other than me. The thought startles me more than the feelings accompanying it.
Feeling a little out of it, my eyes sweep back to her on stage. I jolt slightly in my seat when I find her staring back. I match her golden green gaze, my mind turning hazy the more I study her like this. Like witnessing a transformation in real time. Like a pearl recovered from the bottom of the sea.
I don’t realize time has even passed until Lucy sings her last note, the music fading along with it. When the room explodes into applause, she finally breaks eye contact with me. I realize then that what she was seeking within my own gaze was support, and maybe even strength. I simultaneously feel honored and unworthy of such a connection. Her eyes sweep around the bar, her smile growing even wider as she giggles into the microphone.
I’ve never heard something so fucking perfect.
“Thank you,” she says softly, jumping off the stool and bouncing off the stage.
I’m out of my seat in an instant, and I catch her mid-air as she jumps into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist.
Fuck the rules, and fuck everything I’ve ever fucking said, if it means having Lucy’s giggles tickle my ear while her hand trails up my neck into my hair.
I’ve never seen her eyes shine so brightly.
“That was amazing,” she says breathlessly.
You were amazing.
I have so much I want to tell her, but the words catch in my throat when I realize how fragile this moment is. How quickly feelings like the ones she’s experiencing can be ruined.
She takes my silence as discomfort.
Suddenly serious, she says, “Right.” And pulls away. My arms slacken around the small of her back and I let her plant her feet back on the ground. “I forgot. Rules,” she adds with a sheepish smile, as if she forgot who she was for a second. And I was the piece of shit to shove her off the cloud she was on. I clench my fists, but say nothing, forcing myself to smile. At least just a little.
A squeal coming from my right bursts through my eardrum as Bridget nearly slams into Lucy, wrapping her arms around her and jumping up and down. Lucy laughs, and I’m left wondering if maybe I’m just a black hole selfishly swallowing up her light whenever she comes too close.
The urge to turn on my heels, walk out and disappear is so acute that I can feel my muscles protest when I don’t. I sit back down at our table, ignoring whatever the fuck Ritchie is trying to tell me over the music, and down the rest of my beer in one gulp. It doesn't help much. Only dulls the edge some. With all the emotions clambering up my throat, I can’t help but wish I could feel even less… Nothing will ever compare to the dull edges of my youth.
Nothing compares to the feeling ofnothing.
* * *
A few hours later,I’m still stuck at this fucking table. Bridget carries most of the conversation, Lucy chiming in when she can get a word in. I’m not shocked to discover Ritchie is a fucking dud, and if it wasn’t for Lucy looking like she’s having the time of her life, I would have dragged us back to the motel a long time ago.
“I’m not lying!” Bridget says followed by one of her constant and unnecessary giggles. Most likely finishing up another one of her pointless stories that I haven’t paid much attention to. “I’m telling you, God’s honest truth,” she tells Lucy, still laughing while raising her hand up and placing the other over her heart.
“You done?” Ritchie barks from across the table.
“What?” Bridget says, her laugh a little dryer than before.
“You ‘bout giving me a headache with all that fucking talking of yours. Go get me a drink would you?”
I sit up a little straighter, my chin between my index and thumb while I study Bridget’s shift in demeanor from bubbly to insecure, her eyes jumping from him, to me, then to Lucy. It’s quick, and only lasts a few seconds, before she smiles back at him. “Of course.” Her usual laugh pouring out from her lips. “I’ll get us a fresh round—Lucy want to come?”
Lucy appears a little nervous but smiles back and nods, glancing at me quickly before standing up and walking away. The table falls silent, Ritchie and I both face the bar as we watch the girls find a spot to wait for their drink order.
Finally, the asshole speaks.
“Thought she’d never shut the fuck up,” he chuckles while he fishes something out of his pocket. “This usually helps.” He snickers, holding up a vial for me to see between his finger and thumb. I watch him dump the clear liquid into Bridget’s drink. “Makes her much more pliant for later, you know what I mean?” he says with a wink, his conspiratorial tone so effortless that the edge of my vision reddens at the thought of how practiced this all looks.
I don’t move until he’s settled back into his chair. There are too many witnesses to do anything worth my fucking time, so I settle on making him believe I will. Making sure the girls are still waiting at the bar, I slowly slide my chair closer to his and lean in, catching his collar in my fist. I jerk him toward me, his neck snapping backward with the force, a small yelp spilling out of him as it does. “Hey man, let me go!”
I don’t.
My voice is cold when I spit the words into his squirely fucking face. “You know,” I say, as his hands find my wrist, trying to pull himself out of my grip. I just yank him even closer, twisting my fist even deeper into his shirt. “I once buried someone alive for far less. You’d be surprised how easy it is to make someone disappear,” I growl into his ear while he continues to squirm. “What makes you think I won’t do the same to you?”
“I was just joking, man,” he says in alarm, still trying to tug his shirt out of my hand. “I swear the bitch is in on it, shelikesit.”
