The Thrillhammers hit the chorus of their song and the crowd was going wild.
Adam leaned in between Brandt and me while speaking. “Ainsley and I are going to head back to the other side. Just wanted to say hey. You guys have a good time tonight.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, man.” Brandt nodded their way.
From the way Adam and Ainsley looked at each other, I knew exactly what waited on the other side of the wall separating the bar from the sex club side. I glanced over at Brandt and he winked. My thoughts were getting further jumbled. I hadn’t expected Brandt to be drinking. Memories of smelling alcohol on his breath when he would come home high and have sex with me hit hard. I tried to remember if Brandt had had any alcohol at Coyote Ugly when we’d first seen each other, but I couldn’t.
Adam nodded, then disappeared with Ainsley. We turned back around, and I faced the bar while Brandt still held his beer. A strawberry blonde bartender approached. “Can I get you anything?”
“Water, please.”
The bartender raised an eyebrow, but grabbed a cold bottle from underneath the counter. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
I nodded, watching Brandt sip his beer. This seemed like a normal routine with him. I wondered if it was every night. With his addiction, the alcohol had me on edge.
Chris, from the Thrillhammers, came on the microphone: “This next song goes out to all those who’ve had to pay a terrible price for love.”
My heart physically hurt as I tried to keep all my painful memories with Brandt buried. We had a lot to overcome, and I needed to talk to him. That was how it had to be if we wanted a chance to make this last. Alcohol was a no-go for me with his history.
I had to be honest, like Wesley had suggested in the car.
The song started.
The Wages of Love have taken a toll on me
Embrace of emotion. A terrible hold on me
So what is it worth to lay down this burden
Shake off this curse, start a new life,
And draw back the curtain
And I can’t ask why, and I don’t know when
It was just a token, unspoken, now broken
Again and again
Once solid and whole now sand through my fingers
The ghosts are all gone, left from my home
But the memory lingers
And I can’t ask how, it don’t matter why
I’ll set it aside all of these tears and these lies
And do what I can do
The wages of love
Is a terrible cost
And I’ve spent it all, and all of it’s lost
Now I’m heart broke and destitute
But I ain’t put on my funeral suit, I’ll probably
Pay them again
The wages of love
A lesson I’m learning
The face of rejection
Still I stand yearning
And I can’t ask why. And I don’t know when
All that once mattered, was shattered,
And scattered along with the wind
I paid the boatman
Though I’m still not across
My heart ain’t frozen yet
But I can feel the frost
Is it all lost
The song ended and Chris said, “We’ll be back to rock it out after a twenty minute break. Stick around, ‘cause we’re going to bring this house down.”
The words from the song resonated within me. The crowd erupted. It was time to talk to Brandt. I hoped he hadn’t been lying to me when he’d said he didn’t want me to hide how I was feeling.
I COULD SENSE something was on Nikola’s mind. Her brow was creased with worry, and she was chewing on her inner cheek. I’d been seconds from tasting her again in the parking lot, and my dick ached at the thought. I needed more one-on-one time with her. Her traveling schedule made it hard as hell, but I’d figure out something.
The crowd died down after the Thrillhammers’ last song. Nikola’s sweater bared her shoulder, teasing my desire to touch her there. I knew that wasn’t possible tonight, but fuck, I wanted her. I took another sip of beer.
Nikola’s emerald eyes pierced mine. “Do you drink often?”
I cracked my neck, sensing she was about to drop a bomb on me. Obviously, it was alcohol-related. My rehab teachers had advised to stop using any addictive substance. Alcohol had never been a problem for me, so I kept drinking in moderation. Nikola’s voice had the tone she took when she was about to scold me. It was rare, but it often resulted in a small fight. Whatever it was, I needed to stay calm. We used to work through these things quickly, but right now, our relationship was in rough seas.
I set the beer down. “I have a couple occasionally.”
Nikola’s tapped her fingers on the counter. “Do you think that’s a good idea, considering your addiction?”
“Alcohol was never my problem. You know this. I’ve been sober for over a year now, without relapse.”
I took another sip of beer out of habit because it was there. Her eyes widened. Nikola was my top priority, but I was still my own person. We needed to be real.
“You used to drink while you were high. I remember the smell of your breath when you’d come home, have sex with me, and then pass out.”
She began to speak in monotone and her lips pressed together tightly. This was not going well. The blank stare on Nikola’s face had my nerves standing on edge. It felt like she wouldn’t let this go.
“Nikola, I don’t see why this is an issue. Alcohol is not my trigger. Yes, you know I drank while I was high, but we used to drink together. There were multiple times we had sex when we both had alcohol on our breath. “I think you’re making it out to be an issue when it’s not. Can we talk about this later?”
Anger flashed in her eyes, “You want to push it aside, even though it’s a big deal? I thought you said there wasn’t a topic that was off-limits. We can go elsewhere to talk about this if you want, but it needs to be discussed now.”
I went to take a sip of beer again then caught myself. Nikola’s eyes followed my movement. “There isn’t a topic we can’t discuss. But you haven’t been part of my life for the last year and seen how I’m handling things.”
The air got heavy and our voices were rising. Nikola must have been feeling the same way. “I need some air. I’ll be right back.”
I was agitated at my addiction being used against me. She turned and I followed her out of Club Envy, leaving my beer on the counter. In the parking lot, she took deep breaths. She seemed panicked.
“Nikola, let’s take a step back and look at this rationally. You’re overreacting.”
She stopped and turned toward me. It was cold outside, but the look on Nikola’s face could burn me to the ground. “I’m overreacting? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m overreacting.” She took a step closer and glanced around—people in the parking lot now staring.
With her voice lowered to a harsh whisper, she said, “So was I overreacting when you paused to consider the drug dealers’ offer that time they wanted to rape me to settle your debt? Was I overreacting when you repeatedly lied to me? Was I overreacting when you were so drunk and high you didn’t know what way was up or down? And now, because I’m concerned you’re playing with something that could put me and us in danger, it’s considered overacting? Tell me, Brandt, how the hell is that overreacting?”
“Are you going to throw this at me every time we disagree? That’s bullshit, Nikola, and you know it. Yes, I fucked up, but you can’t hold it over my head.”
Nikola flinched. Fuck. Here we go.
She squared her shoulders and her eyes burned with emotion. I loved the fierceness in her, but it also pissed me off.
“We need a breather, before one of us says something we regret. You need to think about this, Brandt. You’re asking me to go out on a limb and trust you while you play Russian roulette with alcohol. I’m going home. Call me when you’re ready to be reasonable.”
I
loathed ultimatums. “You do the same. Think about you being unreasonable. I was at clubs, at restaurants, in cars, and who the fuck knows where else when I got high. Do you want me to sell my club and never go out to eat again?”
We were both fuming, and I knew we needed a time-out. Her chest heaved. It was best to let her go, even though I wanted her to stay. Nikola and I needed some distance to gain perspective.
“I’m going home. We’re talking in circles.”
Those words sobered me up. “Can I call you later?”
She stared at me for a minute. “Yes, I want to talk this out. This problem isn’t going to go away. I hate this, Brandt, but either the alcohol goes or I go. I know you hate ultimatums, but I can’t be stupid about what we’re facing just because of how I feel.”
“I love you, Nikola.”
“Let your actions speak louder than your words, Brandt. I’m going home. We need some space.” Her lip trembled. I went to take a step toward her, but she held up her hand. “I’ll be okay. We’ll talk later.”
I nodded, wanting to hug her, but I stayed put as she turned and walked to her car. She paused and looked back. Part of me wanted to run and stop her. Nikola looked like she wanted to come to me; however, my pride won out, and I watched her taillights disappear.
Walking back toward the club, my insides shook with turmoil. Laughter sounded at the other end of the lot as a group of people headed to their cars. I pulled out my phone and called the first person that came to mind.
“Brandt, what’s up man?” Quentin’s voice calmed me.
“Can we meet? I need to meet.” My voice strained.
“Yeah, meet me at Dave’s Diner. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
Quentin never hesitated when I needed to talk. He got it.
“Thanks, man. I’ll be there.”
I turned and headed for my car. My mind raced as I thought about all the pressure I was suddenly under. Our fight had blown out of proportion before I’d had any chance to gain control. The being out of control feeling left me edgy. In the car, I revved the engine and drove as fast I could. The city was alive as I made my way to the familiar diner that brought me comfort and a mainline of caffeine.
Quentin was already there when I arrived. I sat at our regular booth, where Donna had poured two cups of coffee. She waved from behind the counter. She looked as if she’d recently started her shift with how fresh she looked.
“Let me know if you need anything else, Brandt,” Donna called.
“Will do. Thanks, Donna.”
The aroma of greasy meat filled the air. The diner was fairly empty since the dinner rush had ended hours ago. The red vinyl seats squeaked as I shifted my position, across from Quentin. I took a sip of the hot liquid, trying to calm my nerves. Reality began to set in: There was a chance I’d lost Nikola already. I felt like a fucking moron. I also felt torn between being a doormat and keeping my individuality.
Quentin was in his standard flannel shirt and ball cap. He watched me closely as I decided to lay it out there, skipping the standard pleasantries.
“Nikola got pissed that I was having a beer. She thinks I’m playing ‘Russian roulette’ with my sobriety. I want her like I’ve never wanted anything else, but she can’t hold my addiction over my head every time I do something she doesn’t agree with for the rest of my life. It’ll never work. And she gave me an ultimatum.”
Taking a slow sip of coffee, Quentin seemed to be trying to digest my words. “Nikola was hurt in this, too, Brandt. She’s taking a gamble, as well, putting herself out there and hoping that you’ve actually recovered. I know she’s seen you get high. We’ve touched on alcohol before, and so far it hasn’t been a problem. Your counselor urged you against drinking also. However, I’ll ask the same thing I asked before: Was alcohol in your system when you got high?”
I ran a hand through my hair. Quentin knew the answer, but the images still popped into my head: snorting line after line of coke in various places. Each and every time, I’d been drinking. For some reason, I had ignored everyone’s blatant warnings. I involuntary raised my eyebrow as I answered, “You know it was there. But it was never the problem.”
“So, if it were never the problem, why are you choosing it over the only girl you claim to have ever loved? Is it not worth giving up to give her security? She’s not asking you to give up anything close to your heart. Nikola is asking you to give up something that went hand-in-hand with getting high. It doesn’t matter if you think it did or not. Is alcohol worth it if there’s even a small chance that it could lead to a relapse?”
Quentin’s comment stunned me for a moment as I processed it. I chose alcohol over Nikola. Fuck. I chose alcohol over Nikola. I cradled my head in my hands, thinking about what an asshole I’d been, all because of a beer. Nikola had a right to be upset about any substance that was connected to the addiction that had put her through hell. And, yet, she was still willing to give me a chance.
Looking up at Quentin, I said, “I get it. Alcohol isn’t worth losing her.”
“I’d say you have your answer. You know, I made the same choice for Melody. She wasn’t worth losing on the off-chance a beer led to something else. A beer doesn’t keep my bed warm or give me unconditional love.”
Quentin took another sip of coffee as I stood and laid some cash on the table.
As I backed away, I called. “Thanks, man. I owe you a dinner.”
“What are you going to do?”
Right before I pushed through the door, I looked Quentin straight in the eyes and said, “I’m going to get my girl back.”
Pulling into Nikola’s driveway, my fists tighten around the steering wheel. That same fucking black sports car from New Year’s Eve was parked in her driveway. Nikola says they’re friends, but hell, I want to still pummel Wesley’s ass into next week. Even if it was my own stupid ass fault.
Taking a deep breath, I got out of the car. There was an eerie quiet that descended in the brisk temperatures as I walked to the front door. I tried to squelch my anger at the unlit front porch light. Was that asshole staying the night? Fuck. Trying to stay calm, I told myself not to jump to conclusions. That would only make more problems. Closing my eyes, I cracked my neck to release a bit of tension before I knocked.
There was a little noise on the other side of the door, and my mind went in a million different directions. Stay calm. They’re just friends. The door creaked open and the dark-haired, built fucker answered.
“Can I help you?”
“Is Nikola here?” I asked, trying to sound friendly.
Wesley stepped out of the townhouse, closing the door behind him. I ran my hands through my hair as the wind blew a cold gust. He crossed his hands across his chest, trying emphasize his size. This was clearly a pissing contest. I kept my hands to my side, but tensed ever so slightly. I was obviously bigger than he was.
He was equally friendly, but cold. “She’s inside. I know what happened tonight.”
“I think that’s for her and me to discuss.” I met his stare straight on, not wavering. For Nikola, I’d back down, but if this prick had intentions other than friendship, I was going to stop that shit in its tracks.
Nikola. Was. Mine.
Wesley eyed me then spoke, “Listen, I’m going to cut through all the shit and get right to the heart of it. Nikola and I are friends. She’s been there for me and vice versa. She deserves the best—not someone making a half-assed attempt to stay clean. My girlfriend of several years got out about the same time you did from rehab but has relapsed twice. We’re trying to get her readmitted, which is like living the damn nightmare again. So stop with the shit and think about what you want.”
His voice turned to ice, but I could see the hurt in his eyes. It was terrible that she’d relapsed. From what I had seen, heroin was hard to bounce back from. Thank God I’d stuck to coke. That had been bad enough.
“I’m sorry to hear about your girlfriend. I’ve made my choice, and that’s why I’m here rather tha
n nursing a beer in spite.”
For the first time, I saw that Wesley was in plaid sweatpants.
What. The. Fuck.
Wesley must have noticed what I’d seen. I met his eyes straight on and said, “Were you staying the night?”
“Yes,” he said, matter-of-factly. “But before you jump to conclusions, she got scared and called me.”
It fucking hurt that she hadn’t called me. I waited for him to continue. He didn’t.
“Why was she scared?”
Wesley replied, “I think that should come from her. Let me go inside real quick.” As he reached for the door, he said, “There isn’t anything between Nikola and me. I’m a friend with something in common. If you stay around and prove you deserve her, I hope we can be friends, too.”
I nodded. “I appreciate it. Thanks for being there for her when I couldn’t be.”
“You’re welcome.”
He went inside, and I rubbed my eyes. Nikola had been nervous on New Year’s Day and on the night I’d picked her up. Was this the same thing? I hoped she’d tell me what was up. Minutes passed like hours as I waited for the door to open again.
Finally, Nikola came to the door. She was in a sweatshirt and yoga pants. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” she said, her sad voice cutting through me.
“It didn’t take me long to realize I’d fucked up. I’m sorry.”
She looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry, too. I should have talked to you instead of being aggressive. But, Brandt, I can’t budge on the alcohol. I can’t. The memory of alcohol is too raw for me. It takes me back to when you were using.”
Without thinking, I reached out to touch her chin and raised her face to mine. “Nikola, I won’t take another drink of alcohol. Whether I can handle it or not, it’s not worth losing you. It’s not worth the chance. I was a stupid prick back there. I don’t deserve you now, but I want to.”
I heard a few quick breaths before she threw herself in my arms. “You do deserve me, Brandt. I want you to keep fighting for us. I’m going to fight for us, too.”
Domino Effect Page 8