100 PROOF

by Shanora Williams

  She let out a heavy sigh, but didn’t protest. She pulled from me, and to my surprise, she walked by my side, leading the way to the parking deck. We were quiet for a long time, the wind tousling her hair and mine. Not once did she look up at me during the walk.

  Not once did she speak—not until we met up to the car three levels up. She smiled faintly as she unlocked the doors. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “You guess?” I laughed.

  She smashed her lips together.

  “You flew out here to take care of your mom?”

  “Yeah.” She waved a hand in the air. “She started treatments today and my cousin couldn’t take her. I’ve got her treatments paid for now so I figured I’d show up and support her.”

  I studied her, hating the way she avoided my eyes and spoke so formally with me. I could tell she was thinking about that night and what we did.

  “How did you pay for it if you don’t work?” I finally asked after a brief moment of silence.

  She looked up, immediately narrowing her eyes at me. “That’s none of your business,” she snapped.

  By her tone alone I already knew the answer. “Lloyd,” was all I said, and she shifted a little, pulling her gaze from mine and looking to the left.

  “Is that why you’re with him? So he can pay for shit like that? I mean, something has to fucking give, Marlena,” I huffed out. “He’s not even your type.”

  “Like I told you, he’s safe, Vin. I’m not going to keep having this conversation with you, okay? I don’t have to explain what I do with my life to you anymore.”

  I shook my head, stepping back. “Money is just an object, Marley. He has a lot of it, but it won’t make you happy. I know you.”

  “But it will take care of what needs to be taken care of. I’m tired of living without.”

  “So that is what this is about? You’re marrying him for his money?” I scoffed when she looked away again, refusing to answer. “I guess I should be glad about that then. It means your relationship with him is total bullshit, just like I assumed. You don’t fucking love him.”

  “He’s helping me because he wants to. He’s paying for her treatments. She doesn’t have to worry about anything and neither do I.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I rolled my eyes.

  Her head dropped, and she ran the bottom of her sandal over some gravel. It was tense and quiet between us for a few seconds, until she spoke again.

  “So . . . the club,” she started, “you actually have it now?”

  “Yep.” I looked away. I didn’t even want to talk anymore.

  “Good for you. I know it’s something you guys have wanted to do for a long time.” I didn’t speak and she cleared her throat. “What’s the name of it?”

  I met her eyes. “Club 7-1-9.”

  “7-1-9?” She cocked an arched brow, mildly confused. “Where did that number come from?”

  “You’re telling me you don’t remember?” I laughed.

  Her head shook, completely clueless.

  “The first day we met, at Zay’s party,” I told her, and her face immediately softened, her throat softly bobbing. “July 19th, 2012. Back when things were simple and fun.”

  “You . . . named the club after the first day we met?” she asked, and I nodded. “Wow,” she gasped. “And Zay was okay with that?”

  “He didn’t so much care about naming it. He mostly cares about running and promoting it. Getting the name out there so we can make good money. I’m just the guy behind the scenes, dealing with some of the paperwork, alcohol orders—shit like that.”

  “Oh. That’s cool.” She gripped the keys tighter, taking a small step away.

  “How long are you here for?”

  “Just until Thursday,” she replied.

  “Lloyd knows you’re here?” I mused, smirking.

  She scoffed lightly. “Of course he does.”

  I ran a hand over my hair. “This might be pushing it, but . . . do you . . . wanna come check out the club later? After your mom’s treatment? Zay will be there, so you don’t have to worry about us being alone or any of that shit you’re so afraid of.”

  “What makes you think I’m worried about us being alone?” she asked defensively, eyes narrowing.

  “I’m just saying!” I chuckled, throwing my hands in the air. “I thought you’d like to see the place we used to dream and talk about so much. It’s a nice place. You showed me your art studio, so I want to show you my club.”

  Her shoulders instantly relaxed. Tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear, she took a step closer to the car and then opened the door. “I’ll think about it,” was all she said before giving a faint smile, climbing into the car, and turning the ignition.

  I took a few steps away as she looked at me through the window for a short second. She was trying to keep a straight face—not wanting to give anything away—but I could see the interest in her eyes.

  She wanted to check out the club. I’d talked to her so much about my plans for it when we were younger, and now that it was actually happening, I was sure she wanted to at least see it come to life.

  I watched her drive away, wearing a small smile. I was no fool. I could read that woman like a book. She didn’t think so, but I knew everything about her.

  This was Marley Winters we were talking about.

  She would take the risk.

  She would come.

  MARLEY

  Mom’s treatments were over around seven that night. I drove her home, but she didn’t come the same way she went. She looked sicker already and had even vomited before we reached my car. She assured me she was fine.

  It hurt me to see her this way, so fragile and weak. So close to . . . dying.

  As soon as we entered the apartment, I helped her get undressed and into bed. She vomited once more before I tucked her in.

  “I’ll grab you some ginger ale,” I murmured as I pushed her hair back.

  “That would be great. Thanks, honey.”

  I went to the kitchen to grab a can, knowing she always had ginger ale around. It was her favorite drink. I remembered because she would always send me to the nearest corner store to grab some and would even give me a couple of bucks for my own bottle of Mountain Dew if she had it.

  Of course, Luke would take my sodas and chug them, leaving me with nothing, so I started hiding them outside, behind the shed.

  I came back to the room with a glass full of ice and a can of the ginger ale, but she’d already fallen asleep. With a sigh, I placed it all down on the nightstand and then walked out, leaving the door halfway open.

  I raked my fingers through my hair, knowing damn well I wasn’t going to check in at my hotel tonight like I had planned. I’d already booked it, but I would cancel and pay the fees.

  I went to the car for my luggage and came back, freshened up, changed into a pair of jeans and a pink V-neck shirt, and then went to the kitchen to see what I could find to munch on.

  There were a lot of chips and sodas. Plenty of fruits and vegetables, to my surprise. I grabbed a green apple and ate it, tapping my fingers on the counter, contemplating something I shouldn’t.

  Several minutes later, a knock sounded at the door, and I went for it in a hurry, checking the peephole. I swung it open as soon as I saw it was him, grinning up at my cousin Ryan. He’d already told Mom he was on the way, so his arrival was expected and highly anticipated.

  “Holy fucking shit!” he bellowed, immediately scooping me up into a bear hug. He was a big guy. Huge, really. Most would describe him as burly, maybe a little husky. He looked intimidating, with his brown skin, hard, dark-brown eyes, and black beard, but he was far from it. Ryan was nothing but a big softy on the inside. “How the hell have you been?” he boomed, voice loud enough to be heard by the neighbors.

  I laughed when he placed me back down on my feet. “I’ve been great!”

  “Have you, really?” He smiled hard as I took a step aside to let him in. “I guess you have, huh? I got your weddin
g invitation. Little cousin Marley is getting married, huh?” He chuckled, running his fingers over his buzz cut. “Growing up on me, kid. Can’t believe it.”

  “I’m only like four years younger than you,” I laughed.

  “Yeah, I know. I know.” He looked around the apartment with a sigh. “Where’s Aunt Nelly?”

  “She’s sleeping.” I pointed at her bedroom door. “She had a long day. A rough one, too. She didn’t take so well to the chemo.”

  His eyes saddened a little. “Damn. Kinda figured. I did a little research on it with her. It’s tough shit, but she’s a strong woman.”

  “Yeah.” I forced a smile.

  He looked me over twice before blinking quickly and then finally looking away. “Well, shit, Marley. Catch me up to speed. What’s going on with you? Last time I spoke to you, you told me you had an engagement party or something happening?”

  He walked to the couch and flopped down, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. I don’t know what it was about the gesture, but it sent a wave of comfort washing through me. It was the first time I thought about it, the fact that I was . . . home. Here, in California, where I was born and raised.

  Not only that, but when he untied his boots, I knew he was going to stay for a while. Vin and the club instantly came to mind again, though I felt guilty for it. I had to see the club. I was too curious not to at least give it a peek.

  “Oh—yeah. Lloyd’s mom put the party together last minute. She loves stuff like that.”

  “I gotta say, I never thought a wild spirit like you would end up marrying someone. Getting tied down? You’ve changed so much. I mean, look at you! Didn’t think you could get any more beautiful.”

  I laughed. “Thanks, Ryan.”

  “I left some beers in the fridge.” He pushed off the couch and walked to the kitchen. “Want one?”

  “Nah, I’m okay.” I watched him open the refrigerator door and pull out a Heineken. I gripped my forefinger and twisted it. Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid. Just stay here. Don’t go. Don’t lead Vin on. “I was actually thinking about heading out for about an hour or so. There are a few people I want to catch up with while I’m in town.” Idiot.

  He popped the lid of the beer with the bottle opener on his keychain. “Well, go ahead! I’ve got this fortress covered, don’t worry. I’m sure she won’t be waking up anytime soon.” He took a swig of the beer. “Believe it or not, I like being here. Gives me an excuse to be away from my crazy wife for a few hours.”

  I laughed out loud. “Pam’s still nagging you, huh?”

  “Every day,” he chuckled. “But I love her. Wouldn’t trade her for anything in this world. Sometimes a man just needs a fucking break though, you know?” He shrugged as I picked up my car keys from the counter.

  I laughed again. “Right. Well, um, let me know if you need me to pick anything up on the way back. I’ll probably stay here instead of the hotel I booked, just to keep an eye on her. Might as well, you know?”

  He nodded his agreement. Ryan knew all about my childhood—about what Mom used to be and about . . . Luke. He was there for me, when Luke was being drunk and stupid and a bit too touchy, and had pretty much beaten Luke into a bloody pulp. I was only twelve. Ryan took me to his home, fed me, and told me he would never let Luke put his hands on me like that again. Not on his watch.

  He never spoke of it again after that night, but it was something I would always remember. He had my back. He was there during the dark days—the harder days. He’d always been there for me, helping me with my car. He had even gotten me the job at Rocket’s Diner because he knew the manager.

  “Take your time and have fun.” He grunted as he slouched back down on the sofa and grabbed the remote for the TV. “Not in a rush here. Pam is working late from home anyway. She won’t miss me ’til she’s done.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Yep!”

  I walked to the door and opened it, but as soon as I shut it behind me, I hesitated, stopping in the middle of the walkway.

  “What the hell are you doing, Marley?” I ran my fingers through my hair. “This is so stupid,” I muttered, but I started walking again anyway, straight to the car.

  I climbed inside and started the rental, and then I sat there, taking my cellphone out of the back pocket of my jeans and scrolling through my contacts. When I saw Vin’s name, my breath caught in my throat.

  “Shit.” I gripped the wheel with one hand, still staring at the number.

  So stupid.

  So stupid.

  So fucking stupid.

  But despite knowing how stupid I was, I sent him a text and asked for the address.

  He responded immediately and I swear it was like he’d been waiting this entire time to receive a message from me.

  Fucking Vin.

  • • • • •

  Holy. Shit.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was their club?

  I had to check my phone twice just to make sure I had the correct address. This couldn’t be theirs—not Vin and Zay’s.

  In front of me was a building two stories high, made of washed-up bricks and thick black railing. The building had a vintage appearance, with the way the bricks were chipped, and the black ladder leading up to the second balcony was slightly glossy, like they’d painted over it, but let it keep its dated appeal.

  A bright, blue neon sign, with the name CLUB 7-1-9 was blazing above the tall, black door, and in front of the door was a muscular man with a slicked back ponytail.

  I climbed out of the car and locked it behind me, walking across the street, still in awe as I took in the view of the building.

  I gripped my iPhone in hand as the man in front of the door tossed his cigarette and put his eyes on me.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, cocking a stern brow.

  “Yeah, I’m here to see Vin.”

  “No one is allowed in but the staff right now.”

  “He told me it was okay to drop by.” I straightened my back as he folded his arms.

  “No one is allowed in but the staff,” he repeated.

  “Okay.” I rolled my eyes, sarcasm lacing my voice as I unlocked my cellphone and called Vin. I stared right at the security guard, annoyed as it rang. When he answered, I said, “Tell your bouncer to get over himself and let me inside already.”

  Vin only laughed, a deep, charismatic laugh that made my belly roll, and before I knew it, one of the double doors behind the bouncer pulled apart, and out he came. I hadn’t noticed before, being so concerned about Mom at the hospital, but holy shit did he look amazing.

  The white T-shirt he wore clung to his torso, showing off his firm abs and chest. His jeans were low on his hips, not too loose or too tight. His hair was much messier now than it was when he was in Texas. He needed a haircut, but the messy look suited him, and I could tell he liked having it that way—the wisps sweeping over his eyes and forehead. Chaotic. Messy. Unmanageable . . . just like him.

  A smile swept across his lips as he fixed his gaze on me, capping a hand on the bouncer’s shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, Pablo. She’s clear to come inside,” he confirmed.

  “Thank you.” I took a step forward, but Vin moved in my way, blocking the entrance and folding his arms.

  “But only if she promises me one thing,” he went on.

  “For the love of God, Vin—are you seriously going to play this game? You asked me to come check out the club, and I’m here. I’m not promising you any more than that.”

  “Promise you won’t speak of my dipshit brother,” he continued as if I hadn’t even said a word. “Don’t even say his name in this club. That name is like Voldemort’s in here.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously?”

  He glanced over at Pablo, who shifted, giving a small smile.

  “Seriously,” Vin responded, matter-of-factly.

  I sighed. “Fine. Whatever.” I gave him a light shove and walked past him and Pablo
. Vin laughed again, turning to follow me inside. “Asshole,” I grumbled when he stepped up to my side.

  “Yeah, but you still love me.” When he said that, I picked my head up and studied him. He wasn’t looking at me, but was focused ahead on something—no, someone.

  It was Zay. He was at the bar, nursing what looked like bourbon or whiskey. He had his stitched arm on the counter, his cellphone in hand. When he heard us walking, he looked back, and his eyes lit up a bit.

  “Bob Marley!” he yelled across the room.

  I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. Zay was the only other person who knew that name. Vin told him, of course, but he’d never explained the nickname. Zay didn’t care. He just thought it was cool to call me that.

  “What are you doing over there?” I yelled back. He stood up, grabbing his drink and walking our way.

  “Hey, don’t slip again,” Vin called. “There was enough blood to clean up off the floor. We don’t need any more.”

  Vin burst out laughing as Zay waved his middle finger at him. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, motherfucker.” They were such clowns.

  Three steps led down to the dance floor and I took them, peering around. “Wow,” I breathed out. “This place is really yours?”

  “All mine . . . and Zay’s, of course.” Vin winked at me. Zay held out his free hand, a light shrug and a press of the lips along with it.

  “It’s . . . perfect. Fits you guys almost too well.” I looked at the bar. Vin was right. It did seem to be a mile long. They’d need at least four bartenders to tend that bar.

  “My sister said the same,” Zay stated.

  “The place seems pretty much done.” My eyes darted up the stairs, where the leather seats were. “When will you officially open?”

  “Probably won’t be for another week or so,” Vin answered.

  “It looks done, but it’s not.” Zay pointed at something and I looked with him, but all I saw was a blank wall. It wasn’t like the others, which were made of brick. It was white and bare. “We have no idea what the hell we’re gonna do with that wall. Like, do we cover it up? Add some bricks? What the hell should we do?”