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“Give me the bottle.” With a hefty sigh and reluctance, I hand her anemptybottle that once housed a fair amount of tequila. Okay, a lot of tequila. A frown mars her delicate features, and my body floods with remorse. I can disappoint my father all I want and it will never have an effect on me, but when Hazel looks at me like that, I want to shrivel up into a ball or kneel at her feet and confess all of my sins. Her disappointment hurts.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. The bottle slips from my fingers into her hands. She twists her lips in understanding.
“I know you are.” Her head tilts to the side, her gaze resting upon mine as her fingers wrap tightly around the glass. Another grin that barrels through my anguish takes the place of her frown and a hint of mischief glints in her worn out eyes. “I’m going to take this downstairs and then I’m going into their rooms to find some things worth some money.”
My brows race up my forehead. “What? No, Hazel, you can’t. Let me do that. You’ll lose your job or…or worse, end up in jail.” Her gentle face softens, and she reaches up to cup my cheek with all the cocky confidence in the world.
Stone cold sober, voice gentle as ever, she says, “I have shit on that man that could put him away for a very, very long time. I’m not afraid of him.” My brows pull together as I stare at her, not sure if I heard her right. I must be really drunk. Hell, there is a good chance I’m dreaming this or hallucinating, considering she isn’t even supposed to be here right now. Staff left hours ago. Pure adoration, one of the few genuine looks I’ve ever known, fills her. “I’ve only kept my mouth shut for you, sweetheart. So you lost nothing if your daddy went to jail because that bitch would take everything from you. And I’ve also stayed foryoubecause me being here with you, even if your father doesn’t deserve the sweet boy he has, is better than the alternative of you in the system or on the streets. Don’t get me wrong, I love your mother, but she wasn’t capable of raising a child. And that monster he calls a wife…You needed me, so I stayed.”
“What?” My voice cracks with the weight of her declaration, and my chin trembles. Hazel is the only person in my life I’ve ever felt comfortable showing my genuine emotions in front of. Yes, I’m close with Benny and I feel like I can be myself, but Hazel has been here for everything I’ve ever endured. “You’ve only stayed because of me?”
“For you,” she corrects. “I don’t regret a single second of it. But now that you’re leaving… And although I’m sure it hurts and you’re maybe a little scared, I think this is the best thing for you. You’re going to do great things, Trace. Great things. You’re going to be so much better than your father ever was. Especially after what you did for that young lady. You just have to pick yourself up and try again. You don’t need him.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to snark back at her and tell her she is insane, but I don’t. She won’t have any negative self-talk, anyway. That’s not Hazel’s way. I don’t exactly agree with her that I will make it back to racing, but now is as good a time as any to get away from this place, away from my father.
I nod, my resolve kicking in despite how wicked the spinning of the room is. “I’ll be fine, Hazel.”
“I know you will and I’ll be here every step of the way, keeping you on the right track.”
“Where will you go if not here?”
“No need to worry about me, but if you must know, a few years back, LuTricia made some…mistakes. Let’s just say that my bank account is well endowed.” I struggle to keep the smile from stealing my expression.
“Did you blackmail my step-mom?”
She straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin. “Maybe.”
I snicker, hoping like hell that this is indeed really happening and I haven’t just fallen asleep. A world where I’m away from my father and Hazel will be fine is a dream. Entirely too good to be true, but I believe it is really happening and Hazel gives absolutely no fucks about how we’ve gotten here.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”I holler as I exit the bank and turn to chuck my phone across the parking lot. It cracks against the brick building on the other side, pieces of thin glass glinting in the sunlight as they scatter. The main body of the phone lands with a thud of finality. Great, I’ll somehow need to come up with money to buy a new phone now. Not that it matters, because I’ll need to get my own plan, since this one belongs to my father.
Anger flares in my chest, the agony of continued hits tearing from the chasm in my chest that just won’t seem to close. I’m so over this shit. What the hell did I do in a past life to deserve everything I have endured in this one?
It’s been six days since my dad cut me off and somehow he has gained entrance to my trust and drained the account of all of my money. I came here to collect some cash so I can pay Benny rent since he is letting me use the spare room in his apartment. Now I have no clue what I’m going to do because I refuse to use him. I’ll just sleep in my car until I find a job. That will take a bit of an adjustment, but I’ll figure it out. Won’t be too bad. I have some cash on me and I can sell off the shit I stole from those assholes to at least pay for food and gas for the time being until whatever paycheck I make comes in.
Collecting my anger and leaving my phone to rot on the sidewalk, I whip open the door to my BMW, climb in, and slam it shut. When inside, the scream that has been waiting to claw its way from the depths of my stomach lurches from my throat to bounce around the car. Chest heaving and not feeling at all better from my outburst, I jam the keys in the ignition. I need my friend right now, but since Lennox is out of the hospital, Benny is back in class. I have to wait.
The urge to drive to see Lennox is strong, but I know that won’t go over well. Our hatred is mutual. Sure, she thanked me in the hospital, but that’s who she is. She’s just a good damn person, down to her very core, who cares about others and their feelings. Despite how much my desperate heart latched on to the words, the gesture meant nothing other than a show of good character. I’ve said such shitty things to her in the past. There is no way she would ever reciprocate my feelings. And what would I do, anyway?
Awkwardly show up to her place, needing her and beg her to understand that I’ve loved her my entire life? Right. Wouldn’t hurt to see that fire in her, though.
I shake my head. Instead of making an idiot of myself and following through on foolish decisions, I decide to go for a different fire instead. One of liquid consistency.
After a quick venture through the liquor store, spending my money on tequila instead of sustenance, I yank up my e-brake in the gravel lot of the town’s walking trail. It’s quiet, midafternoon on a bright sunny day. There are plenty of other cars in the lot, but the small playground is void of any children. All these cars must belong to people actually using the trail. Good, I have some privacy to enjoy a few shots and a nap to sleep off the buzz. A moment to shut my thoughts off and get a reprieve from the nightmare I’m living.
It doesn’t take long at all for that to happen. My ability to become a fish and soak up a bottle of tequila is quite impressive after years of self-medicating with the shit. Before long, I’m resting my head back on the seat rest…
Tap. Tap. Tap.Groggy and not at all interested in being awake, not to mention I’m definitely still drunk, I groan and lift my head. My bearings are not straight, but I’m not so out of it I can’t see the flashlight scanning my car.Shit.I’ve been here before. Won’t take much for him to read my I.D. and learn who my father is for him to let me go.
When I glance over my shoulder toward my window, the silhouette of a man in uniform with wiry silver hair and a perma-frown peers back at me. He isn’t at all happy. Welcome to the club. I twist the key to turn the electronics on in my car so I can roll the window down.
“I’m gonna need to see some I.D. son.” I blink and try to right myself. The world is spinning like crazy.
“Uhh,” I stammer. “Right. I just have to get it out of my wallet which is in my back pocket.”
“Well, go on then, move slowly so I can see your hands.” I nod and the officer watches my every move. It takes one second for me to drop my wallet into my lap with fumbling hands for him to question me.
“Have you been drinking tonight? You know this park here has a curfew and you’re past it by about three hours.” Sighing, I turn to face him, no doubt giving him full access to bloodshot eyes. Yes, I’ve been drinking. No, I haven’t been driving. But I have an open bottle of alcohol in my vehicle and all the signs to point directly where he needs me to. “I’m gonna need you to step out of the car, son.”
