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The last time I'd stood here Jen had been by my side as we'd celebrated her birthday. It had been years before we'd met Audrey, Elliot and Lilith. Years before her cancer diagnosis. Years before I'd be standing here, staring at myself in the mirror, wondering if my heart would ever recover.
The man shifted again, blocking my view and shattering the shell I'd built around my emotions.
Tears blurred my vision as the noise of the bar faded, running secondary to the pounding of my pulse in my ears.
Run.
I backed up, stumbling as wave after wave of emotion crashed into me.
Lilith turned toward me, concern written across her face. "Jules? What's wrong?"
"I have to go." Barely hanging on, I twisted, shoving through the crowd as I searched for an escape.
"Jules? Jules. Jules!" I barely heard Lilith over the roar of my heart. "Where are you going? Jules!"
I ignored her, plunging into the crowd, dodging men with beers and women clutching tissues as I searched for an exit.
There!
The neon exit sign twinkled in the dim bar, the door under it scarred and coated in years of grime.
A scream worked its way up my throat, my hands clawing at the side exit as I stumbled out and into the cool night air, the door slamming shut behind me.
Doubling over, I wrapped my hands around my middle praying I could hold back my grief. My hair fell around my face, the strands sticking to my lips as I sucked back giant gasps of air, struggling against my devastation.
For the last fifteen years, Jen had been my best friend. We were closer than sisters, building a life that we knew would always include each other.
She'd promised me she'd live. For the first time in our friendship—she'd become a liar.
"Fuck!" The curse ripped from my throat, my fury a monster that could no longer be denied. "Fuck!"
The scream tore from me, escaping to fill the night with a terrible howl—I no longer sounded human. I no longer was human. I was an animal, a monster writhing with untold pain.
"Jules?" The gruff, familiar voice broke through my haze of grief.
I shot upright, searching the dusty back dock. "Ben?"
Despite being couched in shadows, I'd have recognised Jen's stepbrother anywhere–with hiis scruffy blond hair and piercing blue eyes, he’d always reminded me of a Hollywood actor, playing the roles others had set for him. Or at least he had–until the night he’d left.
The ben I knew had been boyish and lanky, gorgeous but still on the cusp of manhood. Even in the dark I could see he had a new roughness about him–gone was the boy and in his place stood a man.
"It's Pope now," he corrected, watching me from where he leaned against the side of the bar.
I swiped at a stray tear, too disconcerted by his presence to be embarrassed that he'd witnessed my breakdown. "Really?"
I heard his quiet chuckle. "Yeah, really."
if anyone had asked, I'd have called him Lucifer rather than Pope, for he had led many women astray when I'd known him. And seeing him now, I had no doubt he'd continue to do so.
"You okay?" he asked, remaining in the shadow of the building.
"I—" Words failed me.
"Yeah." His bitter laugh cut through the night. "Me either."
"You didn't come to the funeral."
Pope flinched at my accusation, my sharp tone biting deep.
