by Chris Bostic
“I didn’t do shit, man,” Vince replied. “She’s a big girl.”
“She’s a brat,” Vic said. “What a mess.”
“The hell I am,” I slurred.
“Easy, Grace,” a female whispered in my ear.
“What the fuck?” I raised an eyebrow and turned to find June holding onto me. “You’re not Eddie. Wha’s goin’ on?”
“You’re wasted,” Pete deadpanned. “At the worst possible time.”
“That woulda been an hour ago, Peter,” I shot back. “Little help y’all were then.”
June gasped audibly. “You need to sit down.”
“The fuck I do. I’m done with this shit.” I tried to pull out of her grasp, but she was surprisingly strong.
“Better let her go, June,” Mike interjected. “She looks like a mean drunk.”
“And you’re a pedophile,” I retorted.
“Say what?” June let me go, but not before she leaned me against a wall. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Wha’s wrong with you? Baby daddy’s twice your age.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you serious?”
“As a motherfucking heart attack.”
June cracked a wry smile. She took my arm back, fingers gripping a little tighter than friendly pressure. “Honey, that’s not my baby daddy. He’s just my daddy.” She leaned in to whisper, “And we weren’t supposed to be telling him about the baby, so thanks for that.”
“Huh?” The realization set it in slowly. “Oh, shit.”
I blubbered an apology or two. While I sat in a stupor, she had to explain to her father about how she wanted to take a little daddy daughter time on the Bourbon Trail before he found out about the baby. Her gift to him was being designated driver for a daddy who loved family road trips and good bourbon.
Which made me a mean ole bitch of a drunk with a bad attitude, deep tissue bruises, ripped skimpy clothes, and a penchant for keeping plenty of secrets while spilling others.
The truth hurt. So did my stomach.
CHAPTER 27
“Get it all out,” Pete said as I puked in the corner multiple times.
My eyes teared up. My throat burned. Still it came. My guts turned inside out. I would have killed for water, but there had been enough death for one day.
Finally the waves relented. I tried to sit back, but my head whirled like a bad carnival ride.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you earlier,” Pete kept saying. “I’ve got you now.”
“Thanks, babe,” I turned to look at him. That accelerated the spinning as well as another round of hurling.
He held back my hair, and probably some vomit of his own. I don’t know how long it went on, but it seemed like a lifetime. At that point, it felt like I’d packed a week of shitty days into one.
“We’ve got to go,” I said once I was finally done. “That was disgusting.”
“You’re telling me,” Vic said. “That was a first. Grace never pukes.”
“Lot of firsts today,” I muttered.
Out of the corner of my eye, I searched for Vince. He was out of sight. June and Mike were wisely far away, taking the break to rest up.
“You’ve got a little something right there.” Pete pointed to the corner of my mouth.
I wiped it off with the tail of the shirt. “Don’t think Vince will want his shirt back.”
“You can keep it,” he said from behind me.
I wanted to see him, but couldn’t handle turning around yet. So I settled for a quick, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Never again.”
“It prolly doesn’t work like that,” I said.
“Yeah.” Vince sighed softly, but not so low that I didn’t hear him.
Pete must have too. He looked from Vince down to me. “You guys ready?”
“I’m pretty good now,” Vince replied. “That was a nice break.”
I didn’t dignify that with a reply.
“So where’s the truck?” I asked.
“Gone,” Vince pointed to the opposite side of the building. “We heard it go by over there.”
“I didn’t hear shit.”
“Not even the honking?” Pete asked.
“Must’ve been hard to make out over that racket you were making.” Vic sidled up to me unexpectedly. “You feeling better, babe?”
I blinked and sat back for a second, then finally forced out a quick, “Yeah. Never better.”
“It should be clear now.” Vic looked at the guys. “Right?”
They agreed.
“Good.” I said. “Help me up?”
“Sure.” Vic pulled me to my feet. I leaned a forearm on her shoulder and sucked in a deep breath.
“That’s better,” I announced.
“Can’t be any worse,” Vic offered.
“I keep saying that, but….”
Vince jumped in. “We need to get outta here before all the twilight is gone. Let’s head down this way.”
“Not outside?” I asked.
“Might as well stay in here. Looks like we can follow this wall all the way down to the other loading dock.”
Loading dock. That triggered a memory. “If they were stealing valuable stuff, wouldn’t they come here and take the whiskey too?”
“I’m not sure it’s that valuable,” Vince replied, “seeing how you couldn’t keep that shit down.”
“Funny. You know what I mean.” I pressed my hands to my head to ease the ache. Possibly a hangover, with a side of dehydration. “People pay big bucks for dusty old whiskey, even if it’s crap.”
“Maybe they don’t know it’s here,” Pete suggested.
“Or they’re coming back,” Vic added.
Vince waved them all off. “We’re not finding out.”
“Fine by me,” I said.
Before I could suggest otherwise, Vince took off for the front with the glow stick. June and her dad brought up the rear with the other one.
It wasn’t particularly easy putting one foot in front of the other in the low light, though the alcohol was no doubt a contributing factor.
Vic was good help, though. She let me stay on her shoulder, even though Pete had offered more than once.
“Those lights are gonna fade out eventually,” I remarked.
“Don’t worry about it,” Vic said. “Just a little bit longer and we’ll be outside.”
“Look at you being all, um…optimistic. Yeah, that’s the word.”
“I’m trying. Pete said I should look at this as an opportunity. You know, like he was saying, the Lord doesn’t give you more than you can handle.”
“I don’t know about all that sh-”
Vic held up a hand to stop me, but didn’t really listen. She continued on, rambling about conquering your fears and all that other happy horseshit.
At a different time, I might have found it helpful. But the time for reflection would come much later.
I let her babble without further interruption. Not that she would have even noticed. I thought back to what Vince had said in the other building about how rambling might be helpful. It definitely wasn’t for me in that moment, but it seemed to have Vic in a good place. She just took it a little too far with the more than you can handle stuff.
I couldn’t handle my liquor, much less the rest of the bullshit wearing me down. Nobody really understood me except Vince—and he kept his distance.
All I could think about was how I needed to get away from Vic and the others. All of them. They’d be better off without me around.
I zoned out and ended up nearly slipping off Vic’s shoulder when she stopped abruptly.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m an awful friend.” Tears welled in the corner of my eyes again. The tail of the t-shirt was not an option, so I dabbed them away by leaning my head side to side and pressing my face into my shoulders.
“You are not,” Vic replied, but I proved myself right by interrupting her to ask what was going on
.
“We’re headed out,” Vince answered. “You ready?”
The guys fished around another roll-up door, apparently looking for a lock. I had a quick shot of apprehension. The longer it took, the more times I imagined us being trapped inside.
My blood pressure spiked. White light shot through my eyes, making me blink away the blurriness.
My head pounded. Each heartbeat a stab of pain through to the top of my brain, and through the throbbing bruises on my cheek.
I rubbed my fingers over the cheek bone, wincing. But the pain kept me grounded. Briefly.
“Got it,” Pete said, right before I almost flipped out and made an even bigger fool of myself. The door came flying open.
“Thank God,” I whispered.
Vic smiled at that. “See. Prayers are answered.”
I didn’t tell her that I wasn’t praying, but considered taking it up if we ever made it back alive. Besides, it had probably been her prayers. No doubt she had the man upstairs on speed dial.
“Everybody out,” Vince said, standing under the door with arms extended to hold it up.
He scrutinized me as I walked out, still leaning a bit on Vic, but not as heavily as before. His eyes asked the question. I nodded in reply. Yes, I’m fine.
Once we were all outside, he let the door slide down. It slammed shut, the rattle setting off a shockwave in my brain. I winced, pinching my eyes shut like it was blinding outside.
In actuality, there was barely enough light left to see the woods in any detail. In the distance, toward the road, the trees had transformed into a dark swirling mass. Possibly I imagined the swirling, but the blackness was unmistakable.
A few breaths of the cooling night air worked wonders. Once I had my bearings, Vic helped me down the ramp to ground level, where we stood in the gravel staring toward the highway.
“Might as well follow the driveway,” Vince told Pete, who agreed with him. That sounded easier to me too.
So we kept going across the property. Not fast, but gradually picking up the pace. Mike was better rested at that point, thanks to me, so everyone was dependent on me to keep up with them.
I wouldn’t complain. I knew from experience that a good workout always seemed to kick the morning hangover, and I didn’t see how that could hurt in the evening. The only thing missing was a giant water bottle.
My calves ached. Each step had me wondering if they would lock up, twisting tighter than ropes. But they held together, only complaining a little as we went up a gentle incline toward another bulky shape in the distance.
“Damn place never ends,” I observed.
“It has to eventually,” Pete said. He once again offered to take me from Vic. This time she relented.
“I got you,” he said.
“Thanks,” I slipped an arm through his rather than reach up for his shoulder.
“You seem like you’re getting around better.”
“More stable.” I was tempted to add, “Not mentally,” but held it in.
“Just one foot in front of the other,” he encouraged.
I had a feeling he might go for the footsteps in the sand quote, and tell me that he’d carry me in my moment of weakness. I could have tolerated that. Instead, he opted for a lecture.
“Good to see you sobering up, ‘cause that wasn’t one of your prouder moments back there.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I could’ve handled that better.”
“Anyone could have,” he said.
“Anyone who?” I looked at Vince. “You never see anyone get wasted before?”
“There’s better ways to handle a little stress.”
“A little?”
“Not a little,” he backtracked. “I didn’t mean that.”
“The hell you didn’t. Your girl gets attacked and it’s just a damn inconvenience.”
“Grace, that’s not what I meant.”
“Whatever, man.” I looked away from him. Staring at the trees was better than seeing his self-righteous face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I mean that.”
“I don’t need any more of the I’m sorry bullshit.”
“Or any more alcohol,” he said with a chuckle. Maybe he thought it would lighten the mood, but it got him one seriously pissed off fiancée instead.
“I don’t need a damn lecture.” If I could have gotten the ring off my swollen fingers, I would have thrown it back in his face. Instead, I tugged at it and cursed, “Goddammit. I can’t even get the fucking thing off.”
“Grace,” he backed away, hands raised. “I’m sor-”
He pinched his mouth shut. Hands came down to his sides, then reached out to me. I didn’t want to be reached.
Sure, I knew I was probably in the wrong, but he should have known better. All I needed was quiet. Strong arms. Someone to stroke my hair.
I would have called for Vince in that moment. Asked him to come to me. But I couldn’t do that to him. Or Vic.
Instead, I turned to the woods and took off running.
CHAPTER 28
“Grace!” Pete called after me, but I wasn’t having it.
I hit the tree line head on, barely slowing. Then a branch caught me across the cheek, and that nearly brought me down.
Growling, I shoved it out of the way and kept on going. I felt remarkably strong for someone who had to lean on the others moments before.
Adrenaline was funny in that way. Or maybe it was anger. Pete had me seriously pissed at him in a way I never had been before.
Possibly at myself too. For letting the assault get to me. For being weak, when I should have been able to fend for myself like always.
Tears streamed as I ran, clouding vision that wasn’t particularly great in the low light anyway.
I bounced off a tree, nearly missed ducking under another. Somewhere behind me, the others called. But I tuned them out. I ran until my lungs burned, like the way my shoulder burned. And then my legs.
Everything hurt, inside and out.
I dodged to the left, then cut back to the right, trying my best to avoid the branches. For the most part, like I had observed before, it was open woods with minimal underbrush.
However, there were plenty of vines, and a handful of branches on the forest floor. After I skidded over one branch and nearly wiped out, I slowed a bit. Not enough.
A vine wrapped around my ankle, bringing me down. I hit the ground as I twisted, shoulder first, and ended up on my back.
The air rushed out of my lungs. I froze into a solid ball of panic. All I could see above me was blackness. My lungs empty.
I opened my mouth to scream and nothing came out. It was like the creeper had climbed back on top of me.
I tried to roll. The vine held my foot in a vice grip. So I tried to thrash, but the lack of breath and a crushing panic kept me rooted to the ground.
“Grace!” Vic repeated, but she wasn’t close.
Pete called too. He was closer, but not very. I was too fast for him, especially on distance runs. No telling how far I had gotten, but it had been a while.
Yet I still hadn’t made it to the highway. It seemed like I’d never make it.
I laid my head back. It pounded, forcing me to close my eyes. Funny observation, it wasn’t hardly any darker.
I quit squirming. Footsteps swished through the leaves in the woods. They were off in different directions, no doubt looking for me. I should have been honored, but I didn’t want to be found.
“Stay spread out,” Vince said, relatively close by.
My heart leaped, but I kept quiet. Not Vince, not anyone could get me out of this funk, and I didn’t want them to try. I wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep forever.
I was no princess. No poison apple put me down. Just a different kind of poison; one far more damaging.
I swear someone almost stepped on me, but I didn’t whimper. Or move. Or do anything to draw attention. I barely cracked my eyes open long enough to check for a glow stick.
Whoever that person was didn’t have one.
“Come on, Grace,” Pete pleaded. “You need to come back.”
“No, thanks,” I whispered to myself.
“We’re worried about you,” Vic called from somewhere on the other side of me.
“Grace! Where are you?” June asked. It sounded like she was still back by the bottling warehouse. That didn’t bother me at all. She had no business stumbling through the woods where she might fall and hurt herself or the baby.
I closed my eyes again, trying to process that whole story. Here I thought the old guy was some pervert, and he was her dad. Color me embarrassed. Yet another theme for the day. Stupid, weak, embarrassed, wrong, bitchy, drunk.
Fuck me. What a mess.
I tried to roll over again. Not to get their attention, but to get to the road myself. If I could get there, maybe I could finally do something right. Take care of myself.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t get my shoe off. I sat up, abdominals screaming, and worked to get the vine loose. No luck right away, so I paused to look around.
I spotted a couple shadows moving through the woods. All lower, back toward the distillery. Even though I knew who it was, my mind conjured up stories of bears, mountain lions, and various other predators.
A chill rose up my back, as if seeping from the ground into my body. It sapped the strength in my fingers, leaving them numbly poking around on the tight, wiry vine.
“Get your shit together,” I muttered.
I felt like a prisoner, literally and figuratively. I wanted to cry. Though I hadn’t had much success getting what I wanted, the tears flowed until I thought I might dehydrate. Finally, I quit—and for no apparent reason. I just lifted my head and the fog was gone. But not the blackness.
The other noises had faded. Shadows had disappeared. Everyone calling my name had either quit or faded far away. They were giving up on me. I’d already given up on myself.
I dusted off Vince’s shirt, and straightened up as well as I could. The vine had constricted in all my trashing, leaving my foot firmly rooted to the ground.
With no other option, I tried to pull off my shoe again, wiggling my foot. Everything I did only seemed to make the vine tighter.
Anxiety ramped up one more time. I had to force myself to take slow, steady breaths. Then I would jerk again only to find myself every bit as stuck as before.