by K. A. Linde
Also, how could Hadley even freak about him doing something like that when she was doing drugs and hiding it from him? Okay. Devon would give Hadley some credit. Devon would freak about that too, but it was kind of hypocritical, not that she would ever say as much to Hadley, who looked devastated.
“Oh, Hadley, no way. How could you think that? He’s so into you,” Devon said.
Hadley shrugged. “I told you. He’s been acting so weird. I thought he was just as into me as you said, but lately, he hasn’t wanted to come to bed with me. I mean…fuck, we haven’t had sex in two weeks. Two weeks! We used to not be able to go two days!”
Devon didn’t want to think about Hadley’s sex life right now. Hers was nonexistent at the moment.
“You guys have both been under a lot of stress. I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding,” Devon said, trying to reassure her friend.
“If you knew anything, Dev, you would tell me, right?” Hadley asked, staring at her straight in the eye.
“Of course!” Devon said automatically.
Hadley looked at her for a second before nodding and looking away.
“Maybe you’re right,” Hadley said finally with a heavy sigh. “I have this Fourth of July dinner with Garrett and his family tonight. I was freaking out about it. I even considered canceling. I don’t know. His family is even weirder around me. I wish you could come with,” she said impulsively.
“I have to work,” Devon said, wanting to be as far away from that get-together as possible. After a day like today, she would prefer to be in bed before the fireworks.
“You think it’ll all be fine?” Hadley asked.
“Just be yourself. How could they not love you?”
“You’re right,” she said, regaining the strength that Devon had always loved about her.
“But I wouldn’t…use anything before you go,” Devon cautioned.
Hadley shook her head. “I wouldn’t.”
Devon really wanted to believe her.
SWEAT BEADED ON Devon’s temple, and she wiped it off her forehead and out of her eyes. The party had been going on all night, and it was nice to loosen up and get lost in the music and dancing. She hadn’t partied in so long, and she couldn’t resist when Amy had actually invited her out. Either Amy was getting over her hatred for the new girl, or Devon had just been there long enough that she wasn’t considered the new girl any longer.
People were packed into the club, shoulder-to-shoulder, many even closer than that. The music was earsplitting while the crazy lights traversed the warehouse-sized room before they alternated to strobe lights. Everything began moving in slow motion. She hadn’t had much to drink, but she was dizzy from dehydration and the energy in the room. Her tank top was sticking to her back, and she had long since pulled her hair up off of her neck into a ponytail.
God, I need another drink, she thought.
Her eyes moving around the room, she took in as much as she could from her vantage point, but it only ended up being the two feet circling her. Amy had to be somewhere inside the building. How had she lost track of her?
Well, she knew how. There were too many damn people in the place. It was easy to lose one person, especially when that person was as short as Amy. Still, Devon should have been better at keeping track of Amy. Devon didn’t like being alone in dark places. Whether she was surrounded by people or in a back alleyway at night, she was still alone.
She craned her head to look for Amy, but she was having no luck. It felt like more and more people were being crushed into the space. How was this in line with the fire code? Surely, the place would be shutdown soon.
Walking in the direction of the bar, Devon tried to find Amy in the crowd. Seriously, it was getting harder and harder to maneuver through the room, and she had to elbow people out of the way. This wasn’t okay, and it wasn’t fun. They shouldn’t let any more people in. Things could get out of control.
Devon looked up over the heads of people in front of her and sighed. It felt like she was never going to reach the bar. There was a huge line anyway. She thought maybe the restroom would be a better alternative. At least there, she would have some privacy.
She turned to walk the other direction and slammed right into a meaty guy who glared at her as she lost her balance and tumbled to the floor. Someone stepped on her hand as she tried to get up. Devon swore and hissed, pulling her hand away from the ground so no one else could do the same thing. She stood as best as she could, cradling her aching hand. Pushing through people with one hand pressed between her breasts to keep someone else from smashing into it wasn’t easy. All it did was cause people to unknowingly smash into other parts of her. She hadn’t made it more than a few feet toward the restroom, and she had already been elbowed in the arm, gotten her foot stepped on, and been drunkenly body slammed, knocking the breath out of her. The club was getting dangerous.
As a space opened in the crowd, she took advantage, rushing forward through the throng of people. It got her closer to the restroom but not close enough.
Then, she felt it—eyes on the back of her head. She didn’t even know how it was possible. Hundreds of people were in the place. No one could be focusing that intently on her, but she could swear that someone was watching her. The feeling crept up her spine, forcing her to move faster. She didn’t know where Amy was, but getting away from this place felt like it made more sense than looking around for her.
Finally bursting off the dance floor, she rushed past the huge line of people waiting for the restroom. They all cussed at her as she passed them by and walked to the front.
“Just checking my hair.” Devon looked over her shoulder and rushed into the restroom before someone could say anything further.
As soon as she walked through the doors, she felt water underneath her heels. As she slid across the floor, she tried to right her balance, but instead, she crashed down on her hands and knees. Devon cried out as pain shot up her arms and legs. Shock hit her like a tidal wave. Her right knee had taken most of the impact, and it was on fire. She was sure that she had broken the skin. Tears rushed to her eyes as the pain hit her full-on.
How can I be so clumsy? she wondered.
Devon wondered if anyone would help her. She wasn’t sure if she could stand by herself. When she dragged her eyes up from the floor, she noticed that she wasn’t in the restroom of the club. She was in a beautiful all white bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and a walk-in shower. Her heart raced as she took in her surroundings.
“Aww, what did you do to yourself?” the all-too-familiar voice asked.
Her body rattled, Devon slowly stood, using the bathtub as leverage to hoist her up. She felt the blood from her knee trickle down her leg, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. Without another thought, she sprinted as fast as she could toward her pursuer.
He chuckled and moved out of the way. Then, he approached her and pushed her back with just enough force to send her stumbling toward the snowy white bed. She could have avoided the bed if he hadn’t been at her side. He grasped her wrist, swung her arm behind her back, and pushed her into the bedspread.
She tried to scream through her tears as he all but pulled her arm out of its socket. The pain in her shoulder was so blinding that she bent easily at the waist, forgetting about her hurt knees.
“Let go. Let go. Let go,” she muttered, trying to ease the pain off her shoulder. “Please. Let go.”
“Isn’t this what you want?” the voice asked.
With a chill running through her, she softly said, “Please let go.” She didn’t even know if he could hear her.
A hand came up and fisted in her ponytail, yanking her head back roughly. As he pulled her off the bed by her hair, she squeaked as he tugged some of the strands out. He released some of the tension on her shoulder, but he tightened his grip on her wrist. She was already starting to lose blood circulation in her fingers.
He brought her head back toward him but kept her facing the wall. He whispered in her ea
r, “You don’t really want me to let go. Do you?” His voice was gruff but seductive.
She felt some her shoulders loosen, but her heart was still racing.
“I don’t want to let go, so I don’t see how you would want me to.”
Devon trembled in his twisted embrace. She tried to clear her mind. She needed to go blank. She needed to forget since she couldn’t stop it or fix it.
This is my fault. Why did I think I could run away? I brought this on myself, she thought.
He lifted her skirt and pushed her back over the bed.
DEVON AWOKE WITH a start as someone shook her shoulder.
“Dev, wake up,” Garrett said, shaking her again.
“I’m awake,” she said hoarsely.
She was having a hard time thinking or even breathing right now. Garrett was hovering over her bed, and he reeked of alcohol. She was glad he had awoken her, but after that dream, the smell of alcohol was the last thing she wanted to wake up to. The nightmares had never gotten that far before. As the reality of what had happened sank into her, she realized she had always woken up terrified before, but now, she wasn’t sweaty or crying or shaky. She felt numb. This whole time, she had been letting her walls crumble all around her, but with the memories of that dream, she had tightly locked it all up again.
“Have you been drinking?” she asked just so he would stop staring at her in the darkness. She needed to compose herself.
“Yeah. It’s the Fourth of July…well, it’s the fifth now,” he said, sitting heavily on the bed.
The covers fell down past her breasts, which were only covered by her thin nightshirt. His eyes followed the movement, and for once, Devon was glad for the cover of darkness.
She pulled up the sheet. “Why are you back already?” She yawned as she read the clock. Midnight. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with your parents or something?”
“Change of plans.”
She could tell something was wrong by the set of his shoulders. Her brain hadn’t caught up with her body. She had crashed as soon as she had gotten home. Waking up in the middle of the night made her groggy. She couldn’t figure out why he would be home or what could be wrong.
“And you woke me—”
“Come drink with me.” He grabbed her hand and tugged lightly, prodding her out of bed.
Devon yawned. “I’m really not up for a drink.”
“You’re never tired this early.”
“I worked my ass off all day.”
“You can sleep in tomorrow. Come have a drink with me. I brought a bottle back,” he said with a boyish grin, his hand running back through his hair.
Devon sighed and nodded. He wouldn’t be asking if something wasn’t wrong. “Alright. It better not be tequila.”
“Would I do that to you?” He chuckled.
“Only if you hated me.”
“Which I don’t. So, let’s go.” He stood and padded out of the room.
When he left, Devon kicked out her feet from the bed and stood shakily. She couldn’t believe that she was actually going to get out of bed to have a drink right now, and she didn’t want to face why she was doing it. All of it hurt too much.
How long could a person go without sleeping? She would do that if she never had to dream again. Alcohol sounded like a better option than closing her eyes and living that dream all over again.
Still in her nightshirt and sleeping shorts, she slung a cardigan on and walked out into the living room. Crashing down on the couch, she cuddled up with the throw pillow and tried to hold back her yawn.
Garrett walked out of the kitchen with two full shot glasses. He set them on the table next to Devon. She stared at them warily as he walked back into the kitchen. He returned a second time with two whiskey glasses full of a dark brown liquid.
“You weren’t joking,” Devon said.
“Did I sound like I was?” he asked, staring at her.
“Guess not. I’m going to get fucked up.”
“That’s the point.” He handed her a shot of bourbon.
Garrett held out his glass, and Devon raised hers to meet his.
“To living the life,” he said.
Devon cracked up, thinking how far from that she felt, but when she looked up to his face, she could see the feeling was mutual.
“To living the life,” she repeated, taking the shot back. It burned like a bitch, but she was from Tennessee. She would have gotten nowhere if she didn’t know how to take down a good shot of bourbon.
Garrett slammed the shot glass down on the table. “Fuck that.” He returned to the kitchen and reappeared a second later with an expensive-looking bottle of liquor.
Devon’s eyes widened when she saw the label. She had seen people drink it, but it was usually served neat out of a fancy crystal decanter.
Who did shots off of a two-thousand dollar bottle of scotch? Apparently, they did.
Not being able to help herself, she asked, “Where the fuck did you get that?”
“I told you. I got a bottle.”
“From who?”
“My parents,” he said with a shrug.
“Should we be drinking this?”
“That’s what it’s meant for.” He poured another shot and handed it to her.
She stared at the liquid with a newfound sense of appreciation. Her shot alone was probably worth a couple hundred bucks. As the liquid slid down her throat again, she was glad that she hadn’t choked on it the first time. Were people allowed to choke on really expensive scotch?
When Garrett started pouring another, Devon shook her head.
“No more for me unless you want me throwing up. I need to stagger.” Her head already felt heavy.
He shrugged and took the shot without her.
“So, why are you home?” she asked.
“Got into a fight with my dad,” he admitted. The alcohol was clearly loosening him up some more.
Devon sat up as his head lolled backward.
“Tell me about it.”
“He hates Hadley. He thinks she’s a waste of time and a waste of space. He thinks I can do better. He thinks I stay in the job that he helped me get with no ambition and no motivation to move up in the company. He refuses to see that I hate the job and would do anything to get out of it. But the thought of disappointing him any further kills me,” he said in a rush. “He’s just a selfish bastard who hates his only son.”
Devon didn’t know what to say to that last part. Her parents had expectations for her life. How could they not? But everything they did was out of love. They would never push her so hard that they pushed her away. Even now, when she was lying to them on a daily basis, she never thought that they would try to force her into anything.
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” she said softly, touching his hand.
Garrett scoffed. “You don’t know the man.”
“But I know you. I don’t know how anyone could hate you.”
“Well, I think you’re the only one left who doesn’t.”
“Garrett, what happened?” she asked. “It can’t be as bad as you say.”
He offered her another shot, and she took it from him only because he seemed so desperate.
“Hadley and I show up at my parents’ house in the suburbs for the holiday. Everything is going fine. We barbeque, play football in the yard, and the girls are laying out by the lake. Right before the fireworks, it all goes to shit. My dad asks me about my job, and I say one thing that he doesn’t like. One thing! He flips out and starts lecturing me. We start yelling back and forth loud enough for all of the guests to hear. I wouldn’t back down. I was tired of him always trying to assert his dominance over me. I’m a grown man! I told him I was going to quit.”
Devon gasped. “Quit?”
“I’m really thinking about it. I hate the work. But it gets worse,” he said miserably.
How could it get much worse?
“When I refused to take his shit, he brought Hadley into it.”
&nbs
p; “Oh no,” Devon whispered, imagining Hadley hearing all the things that Garrett’s dad thought of her. She knew her friend too well to assume she would sit out of the conversation.
“Yeah. You can imagine the things he said about her. I’m ashamed to even repeat it. Small town, white trash, gold digger.” Garrett shook his head. “He even called her a fucking drug addict right to my face. I don’t know where he gets the nerve.”
Devon froze. So, Garrett still didn’t know. She wanted to tell him. She really wanted to, but he was already so down right now. She couldn’t be the one to break it to him.
“Hadley flipped out at all of his accusations. Her screams only fueled my father, not that she didn’t have every right to yell back, but I think it proved to him what he thought of her all along. And then she thought that I was somehow in on it.”
“What?”
“Her anger went from my dad to me, and then she just left. I was seeing red after that, and I ended up punching through a wall in my parents’ house. Hadley left upset and took my car. I took this bottle of scotch and my dad’s Mercedes and got out of there, too. Hadley won’t answer her cell. I think we’re done,” he said, ending his story.
AFTER HIS DECLARATION, Devon and Garrett sat there in silence for a while. Hadley and Garrett were done. It couldn’t be true. Hadley was head over heels for Garrett. She had come to Devon just that afternoon, worried that he was cheating on her. Hadley wouldn’t have left him for good. She had probably just overreacted.
And that wasn’t a pleasant thought either. Hadley’s overreaction in her state of mind was a recipe for disaster. She had been trying to quit, but stress made people do stupid things. Who knew where she was right now? She could be out there somewhere overdosing on drugs.
Devon shuddered and pushed that thought out of her mind. No way would Hadley be that stupid.
Garrett poured them both another shot, and Devon gladly took it this time. She wanted to get that image of Hadley out of her head. Devon was all sorts of dizzy, and she dreaded the thought of standing. The scotch sure was potent. She hadn’t allowed herself to drink much ever since her last vomiting experience after she had first arrived in Chicago.