Hooked

by Christine Manzari

  The condo was only twenty minutes away, but twenty minutes of listening to Bridget cry was like my own personal version of hell. When I pulled into the parking spot, she refused to get out of the car. I had to physically remove her from the passenger seat and guide her to her front door. Using kind words she hadn’t really earned, I finally got her inside her home and closed the front door behind me on my way out.

  Hearing the door click shut was the final closure I needed. I had already emotionally moved on from her months ago, but I realized that the closure I needed was for me and my brother. She had done this to both of us, and as much as holding him responsible had helped me deal with the pain of betrayal initially, I knew I didn’t need that crutch anymore.

  I was totally over Bridget Burns and her unfaithfulness. And now I could forgive my brother, too . . . eventually.

  When I returned to the party and found Jay, I was surprised to discover that Cat wasn’t with him.

  “Have you seen Cat?” I asked.

  “Not in a while,” he admitted. “I’ve been busy.” He nodded at Denton who smiled back at me. Clearly, they were getting along well.

  I asked around the party and although most people didn’t remember seeing Cat, there were a few that said they’d seen her talking to my brother after I left. Fuck. My good mood at getting rid of Bridget was suddenly plummeting. After a search of the house, in which I still hadn’t found Cat or my brother, I started to panic. My brother was a douche, but Cat could be trusted. Couldn’t she?

  I finally made my way back to the kitchen where I could hear the sounds of yelling and cheering coming from the basement. I jogged down the steps, hopeful that Cat was down there avoiding the party. Instead, I found my nephews and Trace playing a video game.

  “Hey,” I said, kicking the back of my brother’s chair.

  He flinched and moved out of my reach as he turned to face me. I felt momentarily guilty.

  “Come to apologize?” he asked, giving me an infuriating grin that made me want to punch him again.

  “Have you seen that girl I was with earlier?”

  “Cat?” he asked, refusing to stop smiling.

  Of course he knew her name, he was talking to her after I left. Asshat. I bet he pounced on her as soon as I was gone.

  “Yes, have you seen her?”

  “Yeah. I was talking to her about an hour ago, but she said she had to go to the bathroom. I haven’t seen her since.”

  “I looked all over the house,” I said, exasperated. “I can’t find her anywhere.”

  Trace tossed the controller down on the floor. “I’ll come help you find her,” he offered.

  “I don’t want your help.”

  “It’s not like you can stop me from looking. What if she drank too much and passed out somewhere?”

  “Cat doesn’t drink.”

  Trace looked at me in disbelief. “A girl like that? Yes she does.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged.

  “Don’t say shit like that. You don’t even know her.”

  “Calm down, dude. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’ll help you look for her,” Trace said again.

  ***

  I don’t know what made Trace think to look out in the stable, but that’s exactly where he found Cat twenty minutes later. And she was passed out, just like he’d suggested.

  “I thought you said she doesn’t drink,” he said, kicking the nearly empty bottle of tequila out of our way as we held her between us.

  “She doesn’t.”

  “I beg to differ,” he grunted. Cat wasn’t heavy, but lugging around 125 pounds of dead weight wasn’t easy either.

  Once outside the stable door, we awkwardly shuffled our way across the lawn toward the house. Cat’s body started to shudder as she began to heave, and we lowered her to the ground. I tilted her over so she could vomit in the grass. Damn. She drank a lot of tequila. She murmured something and then went limp again, her eyes closing.

  “Is she your girlfriend?” Trace asked as we lifted her again.

  “Yes,” I told him. Cat was probably going to be pissed I claimed her as mine, but I wanted him to know she was off-limits.

  “Mom told me you were gay.”

  “Mom was misinformed.”

  Trace laughed. “Well, if this girl is your girlfriend and she doesn’t normally drink, what’d you do to drive her to this?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I said indignantly. “You were the last one talking to her. What did you do?”

  “Nothing. But I wish I had.” Trace’s eyes carved a path up Cat’s bare legs as he checked her out. “She is a fine piece of—”

  “As soon as we put her down, I’m going to kick your ass again.”

  “Calm down,” Trace said. “It was a joke. I’m not like that.”

  “Bridget,” I reminded him.

  “I didn’t know you were fucking her,” he retorted.

  I clamped my mouth shut, noticing he said “fucking” and not “engaged to.” I reminded myself that if it weren’t for Trace and Bridget, and what they’d done behind my back, I wouldn’t have met Cat.

  “Just help me get her to her room without anyone seeing,” I said. Cat would be mortified if she found out anyone saw her.

  “That’s what I’m doing, bro.”

  — CAT —

  31. SNEAK

  Someone split my head open with an ax. I’m dying. I must be.

  I put my hand up to my head to see where my injury was, but all I felt was a ratted mess of hair, no blood. I opened my eyes and immediately wished I hadn’t. There wasn’t much light coming in through the window, just the beginnings of dawn, but it was enough to make me feel like spikes were being driven through my skull. Disoriented, I sat up, trying to figure out where I was.

  An unfamiliar bed, the taste of vomit in my mouth, and a rumpled cocktail dress.

  What the hell happened to me?

  One cautious look around the room caused the memories to come crashing back to my already impaired brain. With the scant memories of last night, evidence of hay still stuck to my dress, and the horrible taste in my mouth, I realized someone must have found me passed out in the stable and brought me back to my room because I didn’t remember getting back on my own. And with the way I was currently feeling, I’m pretty sure I hadn’t been capable of making it back to my room on my own anyway.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed where they made contact with a bucket that was probably meant for puke. The pounding in my head was telling me that using the bucket right away might not be a bad idea. I pushed myself up from the bed and shuffled across the room and into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Maybe after a shower, I’d be able to think clearly enough to decide what I needed to do.

  ***

  The shower washed away most of my funk, but I still felt like shit. I was about to collapse back on the bed and give in to my misery when I decided to check the time. Pressing the button on my phone, it flashed an offensive 6:13 A.M., and a notification that I had a couple of missed calls. I thought about ignoring them, thinking they were probably from my mom wishing me a Merry Christmas again, and then I realized that hearing her voice might be just what I needed.

  But when I played the message, it wasn’t my mom’s voice I heard. It was Alicia’s.

  “Hey Cat, it’s Alicia. I wanted to let you know that your mother had an accident tonight. It’s not a big deal and she’ll kill me for calling you, but she fell trying to get up the steps into my house, and I took her to the emergency room because she hit her head and needed stitches. She’s going to be fine—” Alicia paused, probably realizing that the word “fine” would never again apply to my mother. “Your mom just needs a little rest. Hopefully, I’ll be taking her home as soon as they stitch her up. I don’t want you to worry, but I thought you’d want to know. Talk to you later.”

  Want to know? Of course I wanted to know. I wanted to know every little thing that was going
on with my mom. Why did I let her go anywhere without me? She was my responsibility and it was my fault she was hurt. Why on earth was I on the other side of the country when the one place I should be was by her side? It shouldn’t matter what she said. It shouldn’t matter that she had insisted on going alone. Her days were numbered and I should’ve been with her.

  I started to angrily stuff things in my suitcase, not even bothering to fold anything. Ten minutes later, I was scribbling a note to Jay that I shoved under his door explaining why I was leaving. Well, I explained that my mother had an accident, I wasn’t going to bother with telling him about Huck, even though it was almost as good a reason to leave as my mom’s injury. The fact that I woke up alone in my own room just proved that it was probably Jay who found me. Huck was probably off reuniting with the love of his life, Bridget whatever-the-fuck-her-name-was.

  I quietly made my way down the stairs with my suitcase, using my phone to Google cab companies in the area.

  “Going somewhere?” someone behind me asked.

  I turned to find Trace smiling at me, hands shoved in his pockets. What the hell was he doing up before seven in the morning?

  “Jesus, you scared me.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you up so early this morning. You actually look pretty good . . . considering.”

  “Considering what?”

  “Considering what you looked like last night. What possessed you to go out to the barn? You could have frozen to death.”

  “Who told you I was in the barn?”

  “No one told me, I found you.”

  Embarrassment was creeping up my neck at the thought of someone besides Jay knowing what I’d done to myself. “I guess I have you to thank for getting me to my room?”

  Trace shrugged and nodded.

  “Thanks,” I said, heading for the front door. “It was nice meeting you. And sorry if I puked on you or anything.”

  “No worries, I made it through the ordeal puke-free. So, where are you going so early?” he asked again, following me.

  “To the airport.” I raised my phone and wiggled it in the air. “I got a call that my mom had an accident last night. I have to go see her.”

  “How are you getting to the airport?”

  “I was in the middle of calling a cab.”

  “No need to do that,” Trace said, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. “I was just on my way out, I’ll take you.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “You’re not asking, I’m offering. My mom would kill me if she found out I let you take a cab. What airline are you flying?”

  “Southwest,” I said immediately. I hadn’t actually gotten a ticket yet, but I figured Southwest was probably my best bet.

  “Let’s go,” Trace said, opening the front door to let me pass through first. He led me across the driveway to a black Range Rover.

  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping off a hangover, too?” I asked as I buckled myself into the passenger seat.

  “I’m in the middle of my competitive season, drinking is off limits for the next few months.” He started the car and buckled his own belt.

  “It’s still pretty early to be up the day after a party, though. Where are you going?” I asked.

  Trace put the car in gear and started driving down the long driveway.

  “Woodward, remember?”

  “Isn’t that in Pennsylvania?”

  “Yeah, you changing your mind?” He looked over and grinned at me. “You can still come.”

  “No. As much fun as it sounds, my mom needs me. But, I thought Pennsylvania was north from here and the airport was south.”

  He laughed. “I never said the airport was on my way, I just said I was heading out.”

  “Why on earth would you drive an hour out of your way when I could have taken a cab?”

  “Why are you sneaking out of my parents’ house before anyone else is awake?”

  “I wasn’t sneaking.”

  “Yeah? Did you tell my brother you were leaving?”

  I stared out the window instead of answering.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “I disagree. He’s going to think it’s a pretty big fucking deal you left without saying goodbye.”

  “I left a note. I doubt he’s going to care.”

  His laugh was humorless. “You don’t know how wrong you are.”

  “Do we have to talk about this?” I asked. I didn’t want to think about Huck or what was a big fucking deal to him. Last night, that Bridget girl was a big fucking deal. Big enough to kiss.

  “Nope. What do you want to talk about?”

  “How good are you at movie trivia?” I asked.

  For the next thirty minutes, I proved I was still the queen of movie knowledge. And as luck would have it, Southwest had a flight leaving before 9:00. I was on my way to Vegas before Jay was even awake and able to bitch me out for leaving him behind.

  — HUCK —

  32. RESIGNATION

  When I woke up, I had to resist the urge to go into Cat’s room and see how she was doing. I’d spent most of the night next to her bed, helping her whenever she got sick. She finally stopped vomiting in the middle of the night, and I decided to sleep in my own bed. Knowing what I knew of Cat and her distaste for liquor, she wouldn’t take too kindly to finding me in her room, a witness to what she’d done to herself.

  The big question was: Why? Why did she do that to herself?

  I was sitting at the kitchen counter eating a late breakfast when Jay joined me.

  “How did things go with Denton last night?” I asked.

  He smiled and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “Good. He’s coming out to visit me next month.”

  “You were right,” I pointed out.

  “I always am,” he said.

  “You sound like Cat.”

  Jay gave me a strange look, but didn’t answer. He sat down on the stool beside me and helped himself to a bagel that was laid out on the platter my mother had left for us.

  “When do you think Cat will wake up?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” He didn’t look up as he was spreading cream cheese on the bagel.

  “Do you think she’ll sleep much longer?”

  Jay’s eyebrows furrowed. “Cat’s not asleep.”

  “Great.” I brushed my hands off on my jeans and stood up. “I have to talk to her, find out what was wrong with her last night.”

  “Huck, she’s not here. She left.”

  I must have heard him wrong. “Left? What do you mean she left?”

  “She’s gone.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “She shoved a note under my door.”

  A note? She left Jay a note?

  “I didn’t get a fucking note. Why would she leave without telling me?” I demanded.

  “That’s a very good question.” Jay’s eyebrows were bunched together as his questioning gaze burrowed into me.

  “Where did she go?”

  “Home.”

  “Home? What the fuck? Why would she go home?”

  “She said her mom had an accident last night. She found out this morning when she woke up.”

  I felt a bit of guilt creep into me, diffusing some of the anger I felt at the fact that she just disappeared without telling me. “Is her mom okay?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve tried calling, but her phone keeps going to voicemail. She must still be flying.”

  I paced the room, running my hands through my hair. My first instinct was to rush to the airport and follow her. If she was upset, if there was something wrong with her mom, I wanted to be there for her.

  “If she wanted you to go, she would have asked you,” Jay said, as if he could read my thoughts.

  I stopped pacing. “What?”

  “You were thinking about following her.”

  I didn’t deny it.

  “If she wanted you to go with her,”
he explained, “she would have asked you. You have to get used to the fact that Cat is a very private, independent person. Has she even told you what’s wrong with her mom?”

  “Not yet,” I admitted. “But I have my suspicions.”

  “Don’t follow her,” Jay warned. “It’ll make things worse.”

  “Worse than what? I’m still trying to get over the fact that she disappeared last night and I found her drunk and passed out in the barn.”

  “That’s impossible. Cat doesn’t drink,” Jay argued.

  “And yet, she was passed out with a nearly empty bottle of tequila at her feet. I watched her puke all night long.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious. What’s going on with her?”

  Jay shook his head. “For once, I can honestly say I don’t know.”

  “If I’m not supposed to follow her, what am I supposed to do?”

  Jay sighed as he shook his head. “Leave her a message. When she’s ready to talk to you, she’ll call. Let her handle things the way she needs to.”

  ***

  I left dozens of messages on Cat’s phone after she left, but she didn’t return a single one. I spent the days following Christmas hanging around my parent’s house, waiting for her to call. At first, I felt bad about not fulfilling my duty as a host to keep Jay entertained, but he seemed content to spend time with Denton until we flew home on Sunday.

  As soon as we got back to California, I looked for Cat at her apartment and then at her mom’s place. She was nowhere to be found. I called her again several times, but always got her voicemail. I didn’t know where she was, or what was wrong with her mom, or why she’d been drinking Christmas night. It was worse than when Cat gave me the cold shoulder after discovering I was Will Stone. At least then, I knew she was okay, even if it was a pissed-off version of okay. This time, all I had were questions.

  It was nearly midnight on Sunday when my phone finally rang.

  “Cat?” I answered.

  “No, it’s me, Jay. Just wanted to let you know that she finally texted me back. She’s fine. She’s with her mother.”

  “I checked her mom’s house. They’re not there.”