by Bria Starr
“I did. I purchased the land and built it myself, exactly the way I wanted. The way I always dreamed it would be.”
“You? You built this?” I’m in awe.
“Well, Patrick helped. So did my dad and a few of my employees.”
“Your dad? What exactly do you do for a living
now?”
He smiles down at me. “Dinner’s ready. Why don’t we go eat and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Oh, I have quite the list.”
“I’m sure you do.” He leads me into the kitchen.
“Do you want some wine?”
“Yes, please.”
We sit down and start eating chicken parmesan with noodles and a side salad.
“So you learned how to cook, huh? Or did you have help with that too?”
“Nope. I’m an excellent cook. Always have been.
Mom taught me.”
“I remember eating very well when I would come over. I’m not good at it. I wish I could cook but everything I touch, burns. I work at a restaurant so my head cook makes me most of my meals.” I laugh.
“What restaurant do you work at?”
“Belle’s Pepper. I’m the manager of the place.” “You still work there?” He sounds surprised.
“I do. It’s been nine years now.”
“Damn. I remember when you used to be a hostess and would have to seat me and bring me water.”
“Yeah, I remember too. You and your asshole friends.”
He becomes quiet for a moment, his smile fading to a frown. “I’m sorry if they were mean to you.”
“I hardly remember,” I say, brushing it off. “It was so long ago. So tell me, what you do?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I’m a general contractor. I own Stone Connection. Well, Patrick and I do. We can build just about anything you ask us to.”
I take in his large arms and tanned skin. He looks like he works outside and does some massive lifting. “How long have you been doing this?”
“For about six years. Patrick and I opened up our business a little over a year ago. We helped with that new mall a little.”
I glance around his home once more. “You guys must be doing well.”
“Yeah.” He laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “You could say that.”
“Lucky you. I always thought you were more into cars.”
“Wanna see what I have in my shed?”
“I don’t know, do I?”
“I think you do. Are you finished?”
I look down at my empty plate. “Sure am.”
He slides his chair out and stands up, holding out his hand to help me up. “Come on.”
I follow him through his living room as he leads me towards a back sliding glass door that opens onto a huge patio. We go down the stairs and out along a small, but frequented pathway towards a big brown shed. I notice a hot tub and outdoor grill under the deck, a fire pit with a wooden swing and chairs around the stone circle off to my left, and a large body of trees. I know exactly why he picked this place. It’s so him.
Suddenly, reality hits.
He has more than I could ever imagine at twentyfour-years-old. I have nothing. I share a tiny apartment with Laura. It makes me feel inadequate, like I still need to grow up. I thought I’d be married and have a family started by now.
He slides open the door and turns on the light. I look at what must be ten cars, along with two motorcycles, a few dirt bikes, two snowmobiles, and a bunch of tool benches. Many of the cars are covered, and the ones that are visible are definitely works in progress. He walks over to one of the covered ones and in one swift motion, lifts it off, revealing his black Chevelle.
I remember that car; the first car that he had restored. It brings back so many memories. Too many.
“You still have it,” I state.
“I’d never get rid of this. It’s my baby.”
“It looks perfect.”
“I thought maybe you’d remember.”
“How could I forget? Lots of good times in this car.
Back when we were still friends.” I smile at the thought.
He comes closer to me and I can smell his cologne, the same kind he was wearing that night. I look up into his baby blue eyes and take in a quick breath at his nearness. “We can still be friends, Paige.”
I take a step back and clear my head. “Of course. I’d like that.” I reach out and my fingertips briefly touch the side of the car.
“Hey …”
I laugh. “I know, I know. It scratches the paint, right?”
He laughs with me. “Come on, let’s go back inside. It’s getting dark.” I follow him back outside and into his house. “You want some more wine?”
I have to drive home, but I also know the inevitable conversation is coming. One we’ve both been avoiding.
“Maybe just one more glass,” I say nervously.
He brings me to his over-sized couch and goes back into the kitchen to pour the wine, then comes back with two glasses and hands me mine.
“Your girlfriend must love it here,” I blurt out. If I wasn’t feeling awkward before, I definitely am now. Me and my big mouth.
“Um, yeah, I suppose she did. She never said anything about it, I guess. She must not have liked it too much though because she’s not here anymore.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What happened?” Never have I wanted to slam my palm into my face so badly before. Why did I ask him that? What is wrong with me?
“She wasn’t happy. Apparently I was too distant and worked too much. Something like that. I wasn’t with her very long so it’s not like I lost anything when she left. She could barely hold a conversation and that bothered me.” He pauses briefly. “How about your boyfriend? You guys been together long?”
“His name is Corbin, he’s a lawyer. We’ve been together about two years.”
“Cool. Marriage? Kids?”
“Neither. Not yet anyway. It’s been discussed, but that’s not happening anytime soon.” It really hasn’t been discussed, but he doesn’t need to know the details.
“I always figured you were going to get married and start a family right out of high school.”
“That makes two of us. But I’m recently finding I’m not in the right place yet to do that.”
“Or you’re not with the right guy.” He’s staring at me with certainty.
I laugh nervously and reach for my wine, taking a big gulp. “Well, I’m a bit fucked up in the head.” He laughs.
It wasn’t a joke.
I don’t know whether to be pissed off or laugh with him, so I just sit here, surprised at his outburst and wait for him to quit.
“I’m sorry, Paige,” he says, wiping away a tear.
“Seriously? You look anything but sorry.”
“It’s just that you’re the most normal person I’ve ever met. You genuinely believe you’re fucked up?”
“I am though. You of all people should understand why. I might have been normal before, but a lot has changed in the last few months, Eli.”
“No, I get that, but you’re still exactly the same.
Just a little more grown up.” His eyes graze over my body.
“But you’re not fucked up, Paige.”
“You don’t know me anymore.”
“I can never un-know you.”
I take another sip, not knowing what to say to that.
He leans back into the cushion. “I’ve always wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saving my life.”
I take a deep breath. “You did thank me though.”
“I know. But it’ll never be enough,” he says with pain in his eyes.
Chapter 5
That Night
“You’re drunk already?”
Laura laughs loudly. “I am. You’re driving, right?”
“I guess so. It’s snowing outside so I’d rather not walk.” I frown. “This isn’t fair! I was hoping to b
e the one getting drunk tonight as I spilled my guts to you about breaking up with Corbin. I told him we needed a night out, just the two of us, and now you’re not even going to remember anything I tell you!”
Laura laughs again and I sigh and shake my head.
“You’re such a shitty friend,” I say as a smile breaks out.
“The shittiest!” she replies.
I throw my arm around her. “Ugh. Come on, let’s go have some fun. We’ll take a cab home if we have to.”
Per Laura’s request, we end up driving to The Dungeon, the bar that’s not as busy or full of dance music like the one I prefer to go to. She likes the quiet environment whereas I’d prefer to go out and dance in a crowded place.
“This place is such a hole,” I comment as we get out of my car.
“No, it’s not. It’s comfortable here.”
“Then how come the second I walk in I always instantly feel the urge to wash my hands?”
“That’s kind of weird.”
“You’re weird.”
We laugh as we run through the snow and into the bar. For a Saturday night, I’d say this place was busy with its twenty or so occupants. I pull my hood back and remove my coat, shaking off some excess snowflakes. We spot several empty stools up at the bar and work our way over to the ones at the end, towards the back of the bar. Throwing my coat over the back of one of them, I slide on. Laura sits next to me and we both tell the bartender what we want.
“Look who’s here,” she says quietly.
I start to look around, curiously. “Who?”
She grabs for my arm, a second time, because she missed it the first time she tried in her drunken stupor.
“Don’t look!” she whispers harshly.
“You just told me to!” I bow my head towards her and whisper, “What can’t I look at?”
“It’s Eli Stone and Patrick Carrington.” My heart drops into the pit of my stomach. I give in and look up.
There they are, talking casually as they sit directly across the bar, no more than ten feet separating us. His eyes meet mine and I can’t look away. What is he doing here?
Eli’s blue eyes burn into mine. He looks at me as though he sees right through me, knowing my every thought and emotion. I want to run over to him and give him the biggest hug … and then I want to shove my fist through his perfect teeth.
He eventually pulls his eyes away, turning back toward Patrick. The moment is gone.
Like it never even happened.
I choose to pretend he doesn’t exist, surprised at how much resentment I feel towards him. Turning toward Laura, we fall into our own conversation as I do my very best to keep from screaming at him from across the bar and demanding answers as to why he’s here.
I find it odd how the four of us all went to school together, yet here we are, barely acknowledging one another. That’s just the way the world works, I guess. Okay, stop obsessing.
“So you’re not sure if you’ve ever even liked Corbin?” Laura asks.
“Right,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “And I’m not sure he’s ever really liked me either. I mean, he says he loves me and he’s really good to me, but I just think there’s something else. Another reason for him liking me.”
“I’m confused.”
“Me too. It might sound weird, but it’s almost as if he’s settling with me. Like he’s using me to replace something in his life that he’s missing.” I lower my voice. “Sometimes I get the feeling he only wants sex, nothing more.”
“I think he loves you and you’re just crazy. You’re looking too much into it. You’re looking for issues.”
“I’m not denying that, but I’m not happy with him, obviously. That’s why I’m trying to figure out a way to break it off. It’s like he’s faking it with me. I don’t know. It’s too hard to explain.”
“I think you should count your blessings. You turned out hot and you got a hot, rich boyfriend who adores you. You should just marry the guy.”
“I don’t want to marry him.”
“I think you’ll regret it if you break up with him.
Don’t do it.”
I sigh. Am I being ungrateful? Why can’t I just be happy with him? I take another sip and decide maybe Laura is just drunk and doesn’t know what she’s saying.
I turn to tell her just that as the door to the bar slams shut. Even though I’ve only been here a few times, I know that door always stays open to let in the fresh air— rain, shine, or snow. I hear a gasp followed by a scream. Another scream follows and I look to a woman several stools down from me. I can’t see what’s going on with both the bartender and cash register in my way, but I don’t move.
All eyes are to the front and no one is moving. I can see the front door but nothing out of the ordinary. Laura is trying to look as well.
Then he comes around the corner.
A disheveled man with rusty colored hair is pacing the floor. His face is pale, his eyes menacing, and he obviously hasn’t shaved in days. He looks to be in his midthirties and wearing a new trench coat that is much too big for him with a pair of shiny brown loafers.
His unbuttoned coat opens up and I watch him reach in and remove a silver pistol. “Nobody move or make a sound!” He points it at the screamer. “Bitch, shut your mouth or you’ll be the first to die.” He points the gun towards all of us, daring us to disobey.
I would have thought everyone would drop to the ground and put their hands over their heads, like they do in the movies, but that’s not what is happening. We’re all just sitting here, trying to take in what’s happening. And worse, what’s going to happen next.
The man continues to point the gun around and shouts, “That’s it. This will all be over soon.” My phone is in my purse that’s hanging on the back of my chair. I don’t think I could grab it without being noticed. I look to Laura to see if maybe hers is in her pocket, but her back is to me as she stares at the man, waiting for further instructions.
He continues pacing back and forth, watching us, before walking around the entire bar area, looking at us. I feel like cattle on sale and I duck my head, hoping he keeps walking past me. He does and rounds the end, making his way over towards Patrick and Eli. He slows and stares them down with a grimace on his face before moving on. I let out a breath I’ve been holding and take another one, holding it in again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He’s obviously not going to rob the place or he would have done it and been gone by now. So what does he want? He walks straight past all the women and stops by a couple more guys who are maybe a few years older than me, and gives them an odd look as well.
I hear whimpering and crying come from the woman a few seats down from us. Laura hasn’t made a sound and I can’t believe I’m not crying right now.
The man starts to make another circle around the bar patrons and he is definitely looking at all the men. Like he hates them. He walks past me once more and stops when he gets behind Patrick and Eli. I can’t look away. We all stare as he taps Eli on the shoulder and simply says, “You,” as he makes a hand gesture to follow him.
An unfamiliar sound escapes my throat. No! Not him! Why him? I want to cry out to leave him alone but I still stay frozen in my seat, eyes wide.
Eli looks calm as he stands up but Patrick has a look of panic on his face.
He pulls him over by the back of the bar on the open floor, only several feet away from me, and pushes him to his knees. My hands fly to my mouth, trying to stop myself from crying out. The man takes his gun and points it down at the back of Eli’s head. Eli’s eyes are glued to the floor before he squeezes them shut and waits.
I know in my gut that I’m going to watch someone from my past, someone I’ve cared deeply about, die tonight.
I can’t. I can’t let this happen.
I look around and no one is making any attempt to stop this madness. Why aren’t one of the guys here attacking him? Why haven’t the police come yet? Why is everyone just sitting here
staring at him, not doing one motherfucking thing!
After he kills Eli, who will be next?
The man is just standing there, gun pointed at Eli, not saying anything. He seems to be struggling with the decision to actually go through with it. Unless he enjoys dragging this on.
He’s here to kill someone. That much I know.
Without giving it another thought, I slowly step down from my stool. I stand there, knees shaking, staring at the man, then take a step forward.
Is this a bad idea? No turning back now.
I take another slow step forward. Eli’s eyes are still squeezed shut, but the man looks up and stares directly at me.
His eyes are bloodshot—wild and crazy. He looks as if he hasn’t slept in days. Lord, please let us make it out of here alive. I vow to never be angry with Eli again. I will forgive him for making me so sad and think of nothing but the happy memories when I see him. Please Lord, please let him live.
“Don’t kill him,” I plead without saying a word. I take another slow step.
He stares at me and I stare back.
“Please,” I silently plead again, taking another step, wanting nothing more than to take Eli away from all this and make sure he’s safe.
The bar is quiet and I can feel all eyes on me. If I didn’t try and I watched him die, I’d never forgive myself. I have to do something, even if it means dying myself, and the way this man is looking at me, confirms my fear.
I’m going to die tonight.
My heart breaks as I think about Laura having to watch that, and that I’ll never have the chance to say goodbye to my parents or Mike. That I’ll never have the closure with Eli I’ve always longed for.
I continue to inch my way forward, never taking my eyes off of the man. He just stands there, his facial expression turning to confusion and curiosity. He studies me as I steadily, cautiously lean forward and grab Eli’s arm.
My fingers slide in just under his armpit and I give him a gentle tug. I lightly pull on him to come towards me and I feel him shuffle as he starts to crawl.
I maintain eye-contact with the man as I slowly pull Eli back, away from him, expecting all the while for him to snap out of it and shoot us both.
He lowers his gun but looks at me, now expressionless.