Junk

by Komal Kant

  Even with her hair pulled up, I could still see the grey flecked in with the dark brown. I knew I had probably caused a lot of those greys over the years.

  Guilt bubbled inside me. Honest, hardworking Michelle Welsecky had gotten more than she’d bargained for the day I turned fourteen and had stars in my eyes.

  “Leftover chicken parmigiana is in the fridge,” she told me without turning around. “And I got you milk, eggs, and bread. Oh, and your Dad and I went strawberry pickin’ at the Washburns’ farm. They’re in there, too.”

  “Mom, you didn’t have to get my groceries,” I told her, walking into the kitchen and standing just short of her.

  Mom shut the fridge and spun around, her blue eyes blazing. “Well, I want to, Wade. I want to make sure you’re eating and sleeping and taking care of yourself.”

  Concern was etched deep into the pores of her face. She was a tough woman who rarely worried, but when she did, it was about me, her recovering alcoholic son who had been on the verge of death.

  “I know, Mom.” I stepped forward and squeezed her hand. “It means a lot to me.”

  The edge of her lip curved up in a small smile. “Well, you can show your overwhelming gratitude by coming over to dinner tonight.”

  There was always a catch.

  It remained a mystery to me why mothers insisted on making you sit through something they knew you didn’t want to sit through. Like awkward family dinners where my brother and I took jabs at each other.

  It didn’t exactly sound like fun.

  “Fine.” My tone was gruff as I itched my beard.

  I couldn’t recall the last time I’d shaved this thing. It had been steadily growing for the last three years. I barely remembered what I looked like underneath it all; I was a man who had become a distant memory, even to myself.

  It was my mask. My shield. My disguise.

  It was what allowed me to believe that I was normal, even though that was far from the truth.

  “Have you spoken to Iris lately?” Mom asked, leaning against the counter and folding her arms over her chest.

  “Yeah.” At the mention of Iris’ name, I felt winded, like someone had run me over with a steam roller. I leaned against the counter for support. “When I got back.”

  “How is she?” Mom stepped closer, like she was ready to catch me if I stumbled.

  “Fine.” I ran a hand through my messy hair, leaving it there as I caught my breath. “She got my offer for the settlement and wasn’t impressed. Had a few issues with it. Thought I was being unrealistic.”

  “Well, that ain’t right.” Mom’s tone changed. When the topic of my ex and our assets came up, my mom got way more worked up than I did. “How can she do what she did and still think you owe her somethin’?”

  That was a good question, but my ex didn’t care for logic. She was a power-hungry, money-hungry, soul-sucking bitch.

  “I don’t know, Mom, but this shit’s been dragging out for way too long.” Years I would never get back. Sleepless nights that would never return. “I just need it to be over.”

  “You and Iris need to figure this out. It needs to be done with.”

  “It’s hard when we don’t see eye-to-eye on anything,” I spat, my tone bitter.

  My nightmares were my reality. And they were neverending.

  “You never have. I told you from the start; she was all wrong for you. Nothin’ was ever good enough for her. She looked down on all of us.” Her lip curled at that.

  “Yeah, well, it’s over now. There’s no going back to that.”

  My ex was in the past. That life was in the past. Even with all my success, I had evolved into nothing. I was a devolution.

  Mom looked me over carefully. “Honey, have you been drinking?”

  She knew. How did she know?

  “No, Mom, I haven’t.” I lied straight to the face of the woman who didn’t deserve my disrespect. “I’ve barely gotten any sleep the last couple nights, and I got up early to drive back home this morning.”

  “I know,” Mom said in an innocent tone, and I relaxed a little, knowing my lie had passed undetected, “I saw Blair earlier. I went by to invite her and Lisa to the charity gala.”

  The mention of Blair’s name riled me up. I wasn’t ready to talk about her. Now there was another event I would have to avoid her at.

  Relaxing my fists that had balled up instinctively, I gave my mom a blank look.

  “Yeah, we went to pick up parts for her car,” I said, like it was no big deal that my heart was threatening to jump out of my chest and go in search of that cursed woman. Why the fuck was I feeling like this?

  “That was nice of you,” Mom said, her smile shrewd and omniscient. “How did it go?”

  Not wanting to lie to my mom again, I shrugged instead. “I think she hates me again. We got into it.” I didn’t elaborate on exactly how we’d gotten into it.

  “Why did you do that, Wade?” Mom snapped, shooting me a glare. “Blair’s a nice girl.”

  “Mom, don’t,” I warned, feeling the telltale signs of a migraine teasing my temples.

  “Why not?” she pressed, pursing her lips.

  “It’ll never work out,” I said, not wanting to give away the truth.

  If I did, Mom wouldn’t think she was so nice anymore. Knowing my mother, she’d chase Blair out of town with a pitchfork in one hand and a burning torch in the other.

  “Honey, you ain’t ever gunna move on like this. It’s been years.”

  “It hasn’t been long enough.”

  “It won’t be if you keep telling yourself that.” She fixed me with a stern look. “You know, Delilah is taking Drew to the charity gala. Why don’t you ask Blair before your brother does tonight?”

  Of course Cole wanted to ask Blair. Why shouldn’t he? The woman was leagues ahead of everyone else in the looks department. That was the only reason he wanted to take her.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mom,” was all I said, glancing out the window. “Listen, I need to get working on Blair’s car. I’ll come by for dinner tonight, okay?”

  Mom frowned at me. “Fine. I’ll see you tonight.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against my cheek. “Think about what I said.”

  With that, she left me alone, lost in thoughts that I wished would leave me alone, too.

  SOMETIMES IT WAS HARD TO believe that Cole and Wade were related.

  Cole was charming, friendly, outgoing, and normal.

  Wade was not—and that was me being euphemistic.

  After the randomly deep conversation with his mom earlier, I was even more confused about what was going on with him.

  Ain’t no man gonna come back from Hell that easy.

  What did that mean? It had sounded like she was alluding to a bad relationship Wade was healing from, and now I couldn’t stop wondering if that was the reason he was so closed off to everyone. Especially me.

  “What’s wrong, Blair?” Cole was leaning towards me, glitter in his eyes and honey in his smile. He clutched a cold glass layered with ice and whiskey, sipping it every few seconds like he was in a drinking competition with himself. “You have this weird look on your face.”

  We were perched on the bar stools that lined the counter of The Fixed Bell. Cole had wanted to get a booth, but I’d realized that cozying up to him in the dimly lit bar was a bad idea.

  At least I had common sense around one Welsecky brother.

  “Oh, nothing,” I lied, reaching for my drink and realizing it was empty. “Just thinking about the strongly worded email my boss sent me today. She threatened to auction off my entire collection of desk décor items if I wasn’t back in time.”

  Wendy Deng didn’t mess around. She knew how to hit ‘em where it hurt. These were no run-of-the-mill décor items from Target; they were trinkets I’d collected from my vacations around the country. Memories of new and different places. That rainy day in San Francisco. The heat of the Albuquerque summer. The way the mountain air in Bould
er left me breathless.

  Moments in time I never wanted to lose.

  “Oh, no, not your desk items.” Cole moved closer, bringing his curving mouth to my ear.

  Heat resonated from his body, and a fresh, clean scent wafted from him, so different to Wade’s masculine scent. I looked up into his beautiful blue eyes, clearer than any sky I’d seen. A crooked smile lurked on his lips.

  It was easy, too easy, to lean against his broad chest and let him take charge of me. But that’s not what I wanted. I wouldn’t let it happen.

  Cole was a close substitute to the man who raced through my mind at any given time, but it wasn’t good enough. I wanted the man who had poured his soul into me. I wanted the man who had peeled back all my layers and uncovered the Blair who tried so hard to be perfect and collected.

  Cole was cute, but I had to employ some semblance of self-control and set boundaries. We were not going to go where Wade and I had. Tangled in sheets. His body firm against mine. His mouth doing incredible things that made me blush.

  Getting a hold of myself, I tilted my body so far back, I was sure I was going to slide off the bar stool.

  “Could I get another drink, please?” I called out a little too loudly, causing Cole to flinch an inch away from me.

  Success! I could write a five-hundred-page novel on how to repel men. Sleep with them or yell in their face.

  Delilah, who was wiping down the counter with a rag, arched her dark brows at me. The look translated more or less to: I hope you know what you’re doing.

  Not a clue, girlfriend. Not a damn clue.

  For starters, I’d opted for an outfit that I knew Wade would snigger at if he was here. Far-too-expensive, gold, Burberry sandals paired with a short, multicolor, print Hermes dress that I’d bought at a terrifying Black Friday sale where I’d lost two fingernails and every ounce of my dignity.

  Maybe that was why I’d chosen to wear an outfit I knew would make me appear to be the snobby, city girl Wade always called me out on being. Because if he did come by the bar, I wanted him to notice that I was ridiculously overdressed.

  Why the acknowledgement of a guy I’d just met, who could barely socialize on a three-year-old’s level, was so important to me, I couldn’t say. Yet, every second that dragged by in this town without Wade around made me anxious to see him.

  In the process, I was being a total jerk to Cole, who was going out of his way to reconnect with his childhood best friend. I truly sucked.

  “Water?” Delilah asked, seeming to glide across the floor as she moved towards me.

  It was then that I realized she wasn’t the one tilting, but that I was a little too tipsy for my own good. I’d guzzled down my last two vodka cranberries without realizing it. Yikes.

  “No, the same,” I told her, trying to keep my tone as sober as possible.

  Delilah pursed her lips, an aura of her mother about her. “Are you sure you want to be doing that?”

  It was the tone a disapproving friend would take, and it made me feel like I shouldn’t be doing what I was doing.

  Before I could respond, Cole chimed in with, “Lila, just make her the damn drink.”

  Delilah’s look of judgement turned on Cole. The muscles of her jaw worked as she reached for a glass, barely shifting her gaze. “We need to talk, Cole.” With cat-like reflexes, she reached under the bar for the bottle of vodka, made my drink, and slid it to me. “Outside. Now.”

  I thought Cole would refuse, but his smug expression fell a little, and he downed the rest of his drink and stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he told me, before following his little sister’s furious steps out of the bar.

  Crap. Was she about to tell him what had happened with Wade and me? That was the last thing I needed.

  “Hey, Blair.”

  For the briefest of seconds, my heart almost leaped out of my chest at the possibility that Wade was standing behind me. However, those hopes were quickly dashed when the voice sank in and I turned to find Hunter leaning across the stool Cole had just vacated.

  “Hi,” I returned, reaching for my fresh drink and taking a sip of it.

  “I just wanted to apologize about the other night,” he said, swiping the remnants of his blond hair over his bald patch. “I was drunk and rude. I’m not usually like that.”

  “Drunk or rude?” I asked, looking him over and noticing the intoxicated glaze in his blue eyes that probably rivaled mine.

  “Ha, rude,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair and ruining his hasty combover.

  Something about the look on his face made me forgive him. It was hard to admit when you were wrong, so I had to give him credit for that.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I told him with a half-smile, taking another sip of my vodka cranberry. “We all say things we don’t mean sometimes.”

  Hunter followed my movements. “Can I get you another drink?”

  Glancing around and finding that Cole and Delilah hadn’t returned yet, I shrugged a shoulder. “Why not?”

  There was no point in sitting around by myself waiting on Cole. Or Wade for that matter. Hunter was here right now, and it would have to do.

  The worst that could happen was a bad hangover in the morning. But it didn’t matter. Not when I didn’t have many mornings left here, anyway.

  Tick. Tock.

  Time.

  It slowed down whenever I leafed through my memories. A glossy page, torn hastily from a magazine at a gas station.

  Tick. Tock.

  Memories trapped in black ink and unmoving pictures. Moments of my life that burned a hole in me.

  TICK.

  Moments I needed to forget.

  TOCK.

  But the world didn’t let me forget. No matter how much time passed, I was always judged for my past and not the strides I’d made trying to get away from it.

  That’s why I had to stay in Pine Bluffs, desolate on my planet of twisted metal and scrap. Trying to create something out of nothing.

  I’d once thought I’d lived the best kind of life a person could ever live, but living that life of luxury had turned me into a person I didn’t know anymore.

  Now, I took each moment as it came, trying to open my mind up to something greater than myself and shutting myself off to the narrow-minded people who didn’t give two shits about me anymore.

  Once again, my eyes wandered to the crumpled page in my hand. An article. One that sent me to the dizzying edge of a cliff I was destined to plummet from.

  The author.

  A name that wrenched my heart into pieces.

  How could two words affect me so much? A hollow ache grew in my chest, now as piercing as a thousand needles.

  The desire to drink something strong barreled through me. I’d given in to beer, but now I needed something stronger. Vodka. Tequila. Whiskey. The shade didn’t matter; it was the effect I was after.

  Before I could act on my need, grab my keys, and hightail it to the liquor store, the abrupt ringing of my phone cut me off.

  I glanced at the rustic clock on the wall. It was almost midnight. Who the hell was calling me this late? Only a handful of people had this number. Iris. Cole. Delilah. Harris. Edgars. My parents…

  Alarm shot through me, and I scrambled out of my chair and snatched my phone off the coffee table. No one would be calling me this late unless it was an emergency.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Wade.”

  It was my sister.

  Oh, shit.

  My worst suspicions were confirmed. Something had happened to my parents.

  “Is it Mom or Dad?” I demanded right away.

  “What?” Delilah sounded confused. “Oh, no, it’s not them.” Relief flooded me. “It’s Blair. We’re at the bar and-”

  Blair? What the fuck?

  “Listen, I don’t know anything about Blair, okay?” I said, cutting her off.

  “Will you for one damn second stop being such a stubborn ass and get the hell down here—it�
�s—shit—I gotta go!”

  My sister left me hanging, and now I was even more pissed.

  Goddamn Goochee Blair.

  I didn’t want to get twisted up in her business. And, yet, some stupid part of me wanted to make sure she was okay. Delilah wouldn’t have called me over nothing.

  Concern trickled into me as I slumped back into the couch, weighing my options. Well, considering the alternative was to get drunk over an article a miserable woman had written about me three years ago, acting on my sister’s words was probably the best idea.

  For my sister. Not Blair. Freaking Blair, who crossed my mind more than was necessary. She had to be forgotten, just like all the fragments of my past.

  With a resigned sigh, I reached for my keys and headed out to my truck. The yard was silent as I maneuvered my way through the well-worn path. I had adjusted so well to being back here that I could find my way around with my eyes closed.

  The Fixed Bell was less than ten minutes away from me, but it seemed to take forever for me to get there.

  Anxiety grew within me with each passing second. Something was wrong. It had to be.

  Was Blair okay? Had something happened to her?

  The anxiety intensified, and pushed down on the gas a little more than was necessary. The truck careened around the bend and there was a split second left before I made impact with the large tree on the edge of the road.

  A memory, clear as the sky in spring, clouded my eyes.

  The screech of tires. A thunderous crash. Rolling smoke.

  No! Not this time!

  I snapped back to myself. The tree was looming on me.

  Gripping the wheel, I swerved last minute, back onto the road, thunder pounding in my ears. Not again. It wouldn’t happen again. Not over another woman.

  Slowing down, I got myself under control.

  This was not the past. This was the present.

  I was in control of my own life.

  With those words chanting in my head, I brought myself back to the moment. Back to my sister’s phone call. The demons of my past could haunt me, but that didn’t mean I had to let them consume me.