“Just bring me the damn drink,” Willow bit back slamming her hand angrily down on the counter. “I’m not a fucking child.”
“Whatever,” the bartender muttered with a shrug as every head in the bar turned her way. A moment later he was sliding a drink to her and she could feel the alcohol working its magic by the time she hit the bottom of the first glass. By the third one, she could barely feel the ache in her chest anymore. She pulled the pieces of her phone from her bag and fumbled them back into place. There was a phone call she needed to make.
She pulled up the wrong number ten times before finally getting it right. Narrowing her eyes to see the screen of her phone she hit the button to connect the call and let the courage the booze had created take over.
“Hello?” a singsong voice rang out, and Willow gritted her teeth at the happy tone.
“You are so full of shit,” she fumed, trying unsuccessfully to hold back the slur in her voice.
“Excuse me?” she heard come back over the receiver, but she didn’t let that slow her down.
“You heard me, Betty. You think you have everyone figured out. I can see right through you. It’s an act. Throwing weddings people don’t even want. Giving advice people don’t ask for. It’s bullshit.”
“Willow dear, I think you’re drunk. Where is Josh, or Bobby and Piper for that matter?”
“Probably in a room somewhere wondering how they’re going to convince me I’m self-destructive and I need to be stopped.”
“If you’re alone and drunk right now I might not disagree with them. Can you tell me if you’re somewhere safe?”
“Stop it,” Willow demanded, resting her head on the cold wood of the bar. “Please stop being that way. I’m calling your bluff. You think you have an answer for everything but you can’t solve my problems.”
“I always like a challenge. Let’s hear your problem and I’ll see if my bullshit skills hold up.”
Willow let out a breathy laugh. She was expecting to be hung up on by now. She was shooting venom-filled cannon balls and Betty was acting like they were beach balls on a sunny day. “You know what I’m doing up here?”
“Yes I do.”
“Of course you do, you know everything,” Willow huffed. “I saw these girls. I may not have known everything but I knew they were in trouble and I didn’t do anything.”
“I suppose you’ve already heard that you were a little girl and it wasn’t up to you to do anything, so I’ll skip that.”
“Thanks.” Willow pulled in another long sip of her drink as she tried to find the right words. The words she didn’t want to say. “She’s dead. One of the girls, her name was Josephine and she killed herself a few years ago. I don’t know what happened to her after she left my parents’ house. I don’t know how she found herself on the road she was on, but she was so ruined by it all that she didn’t want to live anymore.” A tear rolled down Willows cheek, though her voice stayed steady.
“That’s awful,” Betty whispered, but she offered nothing else.
“Damn right that’s awful. I knew she might be dead. I’m not stupid. But I didn’t think it would be like that. If she got out, why didn’t she get all the way out? I don’t get it.”
“Sometimes all you know, even if it’s bad, is easier than starting over. You don’t ever have to understand it. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Now what?” Willow had backed off the insults. She was too drunk, her world spinning too fast to even come up with ways to lash out. She just wanted the answers. That was why she called. There was a small chance that Betty really could make this all better and she needed to find out.
“You want my advice?” Betty asked, not taking the road she could with a tone of indignation, but genuinely asking.
“I think you’re going to tell me what everyone else is telling me. I think you’re not going to help me. They don’t get it, and I don’t think you do either.”
“I’ll take a crack at it honey, and let’s just hope if I’m right you’re not so drunk you can’t remember my wisdom when you sleep this off.”
“I’m fine,” Willow slurred. “I want to hear what you think I should do.”
“You saw these girls, and while you and I may disagree on how liable you are for their situation, I think we can agree that you owe it to them to keep looking until every avenue is explored. You owe that to them,” Betty said firmly.
“I do?” Willow asked, an air of surprise in her voice. “I do,” she said again, this time as a declaration.
“This girl, she took the path she did. You and I may never understand it. We certainly can’t change it. Who knows about the next girl. Maybe she’s out there waiting for a person like you to start looking for her. Or maybe she’s met a similar fate as Josephine. You won’t know unless you finish what you started.”
“I don’t know how,” Willow admitted, her voice small and childlike now.
“Lucky for you I have more bullshit advice to give. Push away whatever bottle you’re drowning yourself in and pull your head out of your ass. Go find the people who are trying to help you and get back on track. This journey might break your heart over and over again Willow, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.”
“It is breaking my heart,” Willow cried as she pushed the glass away from her.
“There’s a secret about a broken heart that no one ever talks about. It’s not quite as irreparable as people might want you to believe. With the right people around you, it can heal faster than you think. You just have to give them a chance.”
“I,” Willow lifted her hand to her spinning head. “I just wanted to sorry, I mean say sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Save your sorrys for a time and place when you need them. That ain’t now and it ain’t with me. I’ve seen enough in my life to tell the difference between mean and sad. You can call me anytime and tell me I’m full of shit. I’ll just sit on the other end of the phone and wait for you to get to the part where you tell me what you need.”
“Betty,” Willow faltered, trying to make sense of how she was getting let off the hook so easily. “How did you get this way? Were you just born, all–Betty like?”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but I spent more years being Willow like. I just woke up one day and decided it was exhausting being mad all the time. It’s easier to send love out into the world, because most of the time that’s what comes back to you.”
“I’m all done drinking now,” Willow promised, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear as she fished her money out of her back pocket.
“Sit your tiny butt right where you are and call Josh. Don’t go hopping in a cab and wandering around. You need to make better choices if you’re going to get anything done up there. It’s bigger than just you, Willow. I think if you focus on that the heartache will be a little more bearable.”
“I’ll call him,” Willow sighed as she rested herself back against the bar.
“And I’ll call him to make sure you called him,” Betty laughed. “Willow, my door is always open to you. I know here isn’t where you want to be today, but if it’s ever where you want to be again, don’t waste time asking permission.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Willow said as she hung up the phone, unable to fight the smile. Pulling up Josh’s number she tried to focus in on a stationary object, but her grip on the here and now was fading.
“Willow, where are you?” Josh asked with an urgency that reminded Willow how badly she’d screwed up.
“A bar, somewhere not far from my parents’ apartment. Hey maybe they drank here. I think it’s called, hey what’s this shithole called?” Willow shouted to the bartender and she heard some laughter erupt behind her. The other drunks were finding her amusing. “He says it’s called, Go to Hell. I don’t think that’s right.”
“Focus,” Josh said firmly and it shook Willow from her daze for a moment.
“I’ll go outside and look at the sign.” She raised her voice to further piss off the bartend
er. “It’s only half lit but that’s what you get for coming to a dive.”
“Get the hell out, bitch,” the bartender thundered pointing at the door.
“Willow, what the hell are you doing? Stop pissing people off. You’re alone and you’re drunk. Just read me the damn sign and then shut up and sit down outside. You’re staying on the phone with me until I get there.”
“It’s called,” Willow tried to focus her eyes as her legs buckled and swayed beneath her, “Liverpool Tavern. That’s a stupid name. Oh, hi,” she said to the tall dark haired man who stepped out behind her. His skin was marked with acne and his eyes beady and black.
“Hi who? Who are you talking to?” Josh demanded and Willow could hear the mix of fear and anger in his voice.
“What’s your name?” she asked the man. “My friend wants to know who you are, but I don’t know why.”
“Because if he robs or kills you, I’d like to have something to give to the police,” Josh said, and though it was worded like a joke, he didn’t deliver it that way.
“He just wants to be able to tip off the cop if you rob or kill me.”
“I’m not going to do either of those things,” the man said in his gravelly voice as he leaned himself against the wall and she did the same. “I just wanted to say hi and see if you wanted a ride.”
“Tell him no,” Josh shouted so loud Willow had to pull the phone away from her ear.
“I’ve got a ride coming,” Willow smiled and closed her eyes, giving in to the warm lull of her buzz.
“But I think you and I could have some fun. Why don’t you hang up the phone and come with me. I’m parked around back.”
“Put him on the fucking phone, Willow,” Josh ordered, and it was the first time she’d heard him really swear. “I’m going to be there in two minutes and he better not be there when I pull up. Tell him to fuck off.”
“He said--”
“I could hear him. I’m not scared. Come on, hang up, and come with me,” the man said, tugging at Willow’s arm and throwing her off balance. She twisted down and found herself on her ass. “I think I’ll stay here,” she said, still grinning, the danger swept up and lost in the fog she was in.
The man grabbed her two hands and pulled her back to her feet, which were still too unsteady to hold her up. She took two small steps back and then one large one forward, her face planting into the stranger’s chest. His excessive use of body spray was apparent even to her drunken senses.
“Now we’re talking baby,” the stranger said as he lowered his face to her ear and began whispering as he backed her up to the wall. She felt her back slam harder than it should have as the squeal of tires came tearing up the road.
“Get off me,” she roared, shoving the man backward, though he barely moved. There were very few things she remembered from the six weeks of self-defense she’d taken before leaving for school, but a good old kick to the groin seemed appropriate in this moment. She bent her leg and sent it sailing, a direct hit. He bent in half and grunted as he stumbled backward enough for Willow to side step him. She slid herself against the wall a few feet until her body collided with something. It was Josh, and the force of his body on hers was a welcomed crash.
“Bitch,” the man shouted as he cupped his groin and inched his way back toward the door of the bar.
“She’s a bitch?” Josh asked charging forward. “What the hell kind of guy sees a girl that drunk and tries to make a move on her? You’re a bitch.” Willow watched in disbelief as Josh clenched his fist and slammed it into the man’s jaw. The bartender stepped out just as the blue lights of a cruiser came plowing around the corner and Josh threw a second punch.
Within thirty seconds, both Willow and Josh were face first against the wall their heads turned, so they could see each other as the cuffs were slapped on to their wrists.
“That was so hot,” Willow slurred as she grinned widely at Josh.
“Are you okay?” he asked through a grunt as the cop snapped the cuffs on tighter.
“I am now,” she whispered, their eyes locked together. “Thanks for showing up.”
“If you keep calling, I’ll keep showing up.”
It was another twenty minutes of sitting on the sidewalk in handcuffs before the cavalry arrived. “I appreciate the call,” Bobby said as he shook the officer’s hand and looked past him to Josh and Willow.
“No problem. They say you’re working some cases up here and they’re friends of yours. I normally wouldn’t give a shit, but I mean, the guy’s a doctor with no record and he says the girl was in some kind of trouble. I figure if you can vouch for them I’ll write this up as a drunken disorderly and just give them warning.”
“I can assure you, if he was throwing punches it was for a reason. I’ve known him half my life. He’s not a troublemaker. If you could let this slide it would be great.”
“Will do, but the girl, she’s in rough shape. She needs to sleep it off somewhere.”
“I’ll get her out of here.”
“Are you really working cases up here?” the officer asked as he adjusted his belt over his large stomach.
“I’ve got some leads on some missing persons that might be linked. My captain gave me some time to chase them down, but nothing’s panned out yet.”
“Good luck. People go missing here every week. We solve one and three more pop up,” the officer said, throwing a quick salute as he headed back to his patrol car.
“You guys all right?” Bobby asked in a hushed voice as Josh stood and helped Willow to her feet.
“She’s wasted but I got to her before anything happened.”
“Throwing punches huh?” Bobby asked with a smile that showed a glimmer of pride as he uncuffed them both.
“Just because I don’t go around kicking people’s asses every day doesn’t mean I can’t,” Josh boasted as he slung Willows arm over his shoulder.
“Don’t you want to lecture me?” Willow asked, narrowing her eyes at Bobby, feeling a desire to argue with him.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he replied taking her other arm over his shoulder. “We all need to get wasted every now and then.”
“I must be really drunk. No one’s acting right.” Willow rested her head on Josh’s shoulder as they headed toward his car. “Josh is punching dudes, Bobby’s giving out free passes. What’s Piper doing, baking a cake somewhere?”
“Hell would freeze over if that was happening,” Bobby laughed as he helped lower Willow into the front seat. “You all set?” he asked, shaking Josh’s hand.
“We can give you a lift back, you don’t need to take a cab.”
“That’s okay. She might feel like talking.” Bobby slapped Josh’s shoulder as he headed for the street to hail a cab.
“I do feel like talking,” Willow said as Josh hopped into the front seat.
“About what?” Josh asked, not seeming to have high hopes for a productive conversation with a drunk person.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what, running off, getting drunk?”
“I’m just sorry. I’m tired.”
“You can close your eyes,” Josh said as he reached over her, his body nearly covering hers as he grabbed her seatbelt and pulled it across her.
“No, I mean I’m tired of being this way. Fighting. I’m just swimming upstream all the time.” She moved her hands like a swimming fish and then flopped them down in her lap. “I’ll try to be better, you deserve better.”
“It’s not about what I deserve Willow, it’s what you deserve. Whatever you’re going to do, do it for yourself.”
“Do you still like me?”
“I don’t think we should talk about this while you’re drunk.”
“Stop thinking like the doctor, think like the guy who just knocked that dude’s head off,” Willow joked, tossing a few sloppy punches into the air in front of her.
“I still like you, Willow.”
“I seem like a lot of trouble.”
“
You are.”
“You’re not going to kiss me tonight are you? I want you to. But I have a feeling you’ll think it’s a bad idea.”
“That’s a good guess.”
“I called Betty.”
“You did?”
“Yup.” She hit the button to put the window down and reached her arm out to catch the wind. “I told her she was full of shit.”
“That must have gone over well.”
“It did. She ignored that part and just listened to what I was really asking. It made me realize something.”
“What’s that?”
“I think that’s what you’re doing. Are you ignoring all the bad parts of me? I think that would be bad for you.”
“I see them. I see the flaws. But I’m smart enough to realize they are what you project, not who you are. It’s who you want everyone to think you are. I don’t think you’re as tough as you let on.”
“That’s funny.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you’re tougher than you let on. You totally laid that guy out.”
“So we’re both deceiving. But I think as long as we can see the truth in each other we’ll be okay. It doesn’t matter what the world thinks of us.”
“Will you tell me the secret behind that scar now?” Willow begged, turning toward him with a pleading puppy dog look in her eye.”
“I suppose now that you’ve seen me knock a guy out you can find out about my scar. I was driving home one night and I saw this man getting jumped. I hopped out of my car and fought off six men with my bare hands. One guy had a knife and he cut me before I could knock him unconscious,” Josh said animatedly.
“Really?” Willow’s eyes were wide and her mouth agape as she pictured the scene in her head.
“No, of course not. When I was ten, my appendix burst and I got an infection. They botched the surgery and I ended up with a huge scar. That’s what you get from me Willow. No exciting stories, just normal stuff.”
“I wish I hadn’t had so much to drink.”
“Do you want me pull over, do you feel sick? Please don’t puke in the rental.”
Settling Scores (Piper Anderson Series) Page 9