Whiskey Kisses

by Addison Moore

“Balls in a noose?” Bryson shakes his head. “Say one more boneheaded thing around Izzy, and you’ll be begging her to noose your balls as she’s walking out the door.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means she’s sensitive, in the event you haven’t noticed. And I’d like to see you make things work, so put a muzzle on it.”

  “Got it.” For once it seems he’s right. “We’ve spent the last few days and nights together, and she still hasn’t opened up to me about what happened.” I guess I got the rough and dirty side of it. I thought she might want to have a private conversation about it. I don’t need a lot of details. I just thought we should at least try to process it together.

  Ryder tips his beer in my direction. “Laney said his name was Chuck Dupree. Said he was a crazy fucker who drank the day away while their mother slaved at the studio.”

  Chuck Dupree. I tuck the name away for later.

  “So tomorrow is the big day, huh?” I change the subject. I’m in no mood to share my thoughts on what I’d like to do to Chuck the Fuck. Things are going to get fucked all right. He single handedly destroyed the woman I love, and I plan on returning the favor—after the wedding of course. No use in screwing up the wedding day photo-shoot with a black eye in the event Chucky plans on fighting back.

  “Big day is right.” Cole slaps Bryson over the shoulder. “We’ve come a long way from the scoreboard era.”

  “Damn straight.” Bryson knocks back half his beer.

  Bryson and Cole once had an infamous monument to the chicks they bagged, etching them on the wall by way of tally marks. But Baya and Roxy cured them of that. Laney cured Ryder of walking around like he was a big shot, even though he sort of was one. And Izzy, well, I do believe she cured me of not believing in fairytales. I think I might deserve someone—might even deserve a happily ever after with Snow White herself.

  Bryson knocks me in the shoulder. “What’s the goofy grin for?”

  “I think I’m finally settling into the idea of being with someone. I feel empty without Izzy, and the thought of doing this life thing without her makes me sick to my stomach. She’s the one—and I’m damn glad about it.”

  Bryson lifts his beer, and everyone at the table does the same.

  “To finding the one. By some miracle we all seemed to find her.”

  “To the one.” We toast and spend the rest of the night laughing our asses off at the stupid fucks we used to be.

  The girls made us better people.

  Something tells me they always will.

  Saturday, the sun is bright, the weather a toasty seventy-nine degrees as we stand in the perfectly manicured yard of Ryder’s parent’s estate. Miles of white lawn chairs are laid out in rows, and every single one is filled to capacity. I’d bet the Black Bear that all of Whitney Briggs showed up for the big event.

  The gazebo is decked out with enough white roses to outfit every prom in a sixty-mile radius. It looks beautiful, elegant, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t bring a tear to my eye. I take in a hard sniff, trying to avoid the boo-hoo fest welling up in my chest.

  Bryson and Ryder stand at the base of the gazebo, with me next to my brother.

  My father and mother sit side by side down front, and my heart breaks for them but not in the traditional way it usually does when I see them together. This time there’s a genuine grief that has very little to do with what happened that day back in high school. A thought comes to me, and I hold my breath a moment. This is a day of new beginnings, of fresh starts. For a second I toy with the idea of letting everyone in on my dirty secret—but then the memory of Mom’s face, the horrible cry that escaped her throat that day comes back to me. Who the hell was I to rip open old wounds? To pour battery acid in them for the hell of it just to try and make myself feel better. Nope not going there. My stomach twists in knots.

  A stringed quartet starts in on a beautiful piece. It sounds like a dove crying out to God. Izzy appears like a dream, like a tall glass of water in a vast dusty land, and the sky gets a little brighter.

  “God almighty,” I whisper.

  “Keep it in your pants,” Bryson mumbles. “It’s my lucky day, remember?”

  Tears blur my vision as she glides her way over. Her hair is swept to the side. Her eyes blaze like fire. As far as I’m concerned, Izzy has already outshined the brides. Heaven help me. I think Bryson has it wrong. I think it’s my lucky day. Hell, every day with Izzy in it is my lucky day.

  Roxy and Annie head down next. I can’t get over how grown up Annie looks. It gets me that much closer to tears. The music switches to the all-familiar bridal march.

  Bryson takes one look at Baya and loses it. Cole walks his sister down the aisle, and it’s an emotional scene, not a dry eye in the house, not even mine. I know they lost their dad a while back, and seeing Cole step up to the plate has me wanting to boo hoo with the best of them.

  Ryder lets out an audible breath, waiting for his own bride to make her way to him.

  Laney appears, beautiful in her own right. She walks down with her mother on one side and her father on the other. For a moment, I imagine it’s Izzy, and a lump the size of a fist gets trapped in my throat. By the time the girls are at their sides, both Ryder and my brother have rivers slicking down their cheeks. The ceremony goes off without a hitch. No one passes out from the heat. No one objects to the state of the unions. And, before I know it, the boy I grew up with both in and out of utero is a bona fide married man. The brides and grooms take off running down the aisle as the crowd breaks out in a celebratory applause. I hook my arm in Izzy’s and pause as we make our way under the arch.

  “You mind if I steal a kiss?”

  Izzy sheds a mile-wide smile. “I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

  I lean in and plant a sweet kiss right over her lips, and, for a brief moment, I imagine this is our wedding day. It feels like magic. Like something I’ve secretly waited my whole life to do with Izzy. I know I’ve wanted it. And now it’s right here in our grasp.

  The reception takes place right after the ceremony. Rue Capwell has this place operating like a five-star restaurant with enough food to feed a football stadium. After dinner, a live band starts up, and the crowd mixes both on and off the dance floor.

  Izzy sways in my arms as we stand just beyond the masses. I warm her back with my hands, brushing a gentle kiss over her ear.

  “You want to dance?” I rock our bodies to set the mood.

  “I was thinking we could take a little walk.” Her eyes widen, pale and round as the full moon above. “This place is huge. Rumor has it there’s a pond out there somewhere.”

  “Sounds like we should find it.”

  I snap up two champagne glasses from the roving waiters, and we begin to make our way outside the crowd.

  “Well, look who’s here!” Laney waves us over to herself and Ryder. “You’re not leaving are you?”

  “Nope.” Izzy offers her sister a quick embrace. “We thought we’d ditch the crowd for a moment.”

  “Okay, but find me before all this madness ends.” She bears into her sister. “And as soon as I get back from my honeymoon I want to get together. I want us to talk about things the way we used to. I want to know you and everything you’re willing to share with me because I love you, Iz.”

  Izzy swallows hard. “Done. You’re on for coffee when you get back.”

  “Coffee.” She holds up a finger as she and Ryder fade into the crowd.

  I hand Izzy a glass of champagne and wrap an arm around her waist.

  “Do you think you’re ready to talk about things with me?” I trace my lips over hers. If she doesn’t want to, I’m not pushing it ever again. “I’d love for you to open up, but only if you’re ready.”

  “Yeah, I think it’s time.” She pulls back and inspects me under the moonlight. “Holt—is there something you’ve been holding back from me?” She cuts me a look that says she wants answers. “Because if there is, I’d like for you to open up
as well.”

  I knock back the champagne.

  I plan on telling Izzy everything—right now.

  12

  The Whole Story

  Izzy

  Dear Dad,

  I guess I don’t really have to write you these letters anymore since you’ve come back, but old habits die hard. I’m so glad you’re in our lives again. I feel full now. Does that make sense? Between you and Holt it feels as if my cup is running over.

  I love you so much.

  ~Izzy

  When Laney was seven years old, the exact age I was when our father mysteriously vanished from our lives, she put on a white dress and declared herself a bride. She said she was going to marry a prince and live in a castle—be a princess forever. I’d say she’s batting a thousand. I guess she knew what she was talking about after all.

  Laney was always the kind of girl who knew what she wanted and went after it. She had goals, ambitions, and, most importantly, standards regarding who she would and wouldn’t allow into her life. God knows she didn’t get that from my mother.

  “What’s going through your mind?” Holt pulls my hand to his lips and peppers it with kisses.

  “Laney once said she’d marry a prince and live in a castle.” A dull laugh trembles through me. In truth, I’m giddy for my sister beyond belief. Today may have been her wedding day, but it’s also the day I pass the baton to Ryder. I know he’ll always keep her safe, perhaps a little better than I ever could.

  “If it means anything, Ryder lives in some fancy high-rise, so I guess that qualifies as a castle.”

  “That’s good enough for me. It’s been my dream to see her ride off into the sunset—in a good way.”

  “I know what you mean. I’m happy for Bryson, too.” He leads us under a willow, and then we see it.

  The moon pours its reflection over a black pool of water, smooth and glassy, like a giant mirror shinning into the night.

  “Looks like we found the pond.” He buries a kiss in my neck.

  “More like a lake.” It’s huge with the borders stretching out far into the night.

  “Check this out.” Holt plucks a metal pontoon from a nearby bush and pushes it towards shore. “You think we should take this for a spin?”

  “Sounds like a dream.”

  Holt helps me into the tiny boat and jumps on board just as we sail from shore. He pulls an oar off the floor and rows us toward a marshy swamp where the reeds grow six feet above the waterline.

  “You ready to do this?” He shakes out the oar and carefully places it by our side.

  “Your secret or mine,” I blow it out in a whisper. “How do we decide who goes first? Rock-paper-scissors?”

  “I couldn’t think of a more democratic way.”

  We shake our fists at each other while chanting, rock—papers—scissors, in unison. The sound of our joy—our laughter, echoes up to the dusty lavender sky. There’s not a star in heaven that didn’t show up for this event tonight.

  “Paper covers rock. You win,” I say. “So I guess I go first.” I glance down and play with the ribbon wrapped around my waist.

  Holt slides over and pulls me into his lap. He lands his lips to my cheek and holds them there a good long while.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I do,” I say it so fast I’m half afraid I’ll blurt the truth out before I’ve had the chance to formulate the proper words. “Okay, here it goes.” I take a breath and close my eyes. That day floods back like the nightmare it was. The memories suck me in like a tornado. It carries me high in its dark dizzying funnel, threatening to drop me back to earth and watch me shatter all over again. “When my father left, it was a scary time for me. Laney was too young to realize it, so things were a little different for her. Anyway, right afterwards, we moved and my mother purchased the studio. She ended up spending a fair amount of time there. Usually when she worked, she’d leave us girls home with whoever was her main squeeze at the moment.” A tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away. “My mother, being her overbearing self, had a way of attracting the lowest of the low. But, for some reason, I liked the thought of having a man around almost as much as she did. I wanted someone—anyone to come in and try to take my daddy’s place. Deep down I knew they couldn’t but that didn’t stop me from holding out for a miracle. Anyway, by the time I was thirteen the new string of wannabe daddies started to pay me a little too much attention if you know what I mean. They were interested in more than just reading me a bedtime story. Suddenly there were grabby hands and lips that found their way far too close to mine. One day, Laney walked in the room and one of them started to lay his hands on her, so I became a barrier. I made sure she was safe and they wouldn’t think of touching her. Of course, I told my mother, but they always denied it, and she always believed them. So I did what I had to—I ran them all out.” My body goes numb. A breeze comes up, and the tears drip down my cheeks in an icy luge. “I beat them. I threatened them with fake video footage that I would take to the police if they didn’t leave overnight, and they almost always did. Some were tougher to get rid of than others. One of them told me that I was a nasty little bitch and would get mine one day.”

  Holt tightens his grip over me. “Fucking pieces of shit.”

  “You got that right. But I had made a promise to my dad the day he said goodbye that I’d make sure my mother was never alone, and that’s what I intended to do—be right there with her.” I blow out a breath. “So here’s the big one.” My body trembles as the words jerk up my throat. I swore to myself that Jemma would be the last person I ever told. I guess I could break a promise to myself. This probably wasn’t a healthy one to keep to begin with. “On the night before my eighteen birthday—it was almost the end of my senior year, and I had already been accepted to three different colleges—I was working a shift over at the studio.” I twist into him and catch his gorgeous face as the moonlight kisses it with its translucent beams. “You were there.”

  “Me?” His eyes round out like twin globes.

  “Yes, you.” I sneak a kiss onto his mouth. “You came to pick up Annie with your mom, and for whatever reason you lingered in the studio. It was just the two of us. The music had just finished, and I was cleaning up—you looked right at me and said—”

  “Izzy Sawyer you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen,” he finishes the sentence for me.

  “You remember?”

  “Heck, yes, I remember. It took me weeks to work up the courage to do that.”

  “Holt.” My chest heaves, and I try to restrain myself from bawling. “That was the last good moment. The last innocent part of who I was.” I give a hard sniff. “I drove home. Mom had to take Laney to a friend’s house, and she ended up staying, too. It was just me and Chuck. I could tell he’d been drinking, and I tried to go straight to my room, but he tackled me. No warning. No come here sweetie, why don’t you sit by me for a while like he used to when he tried feeling me up. This was an all out assault. He jumped me right there on the living room floor, and, before I knew it, he was tearing off my clothes. I still had my leotard on and my dance tights, so it was near impossible for him to do anything but twist me up in a knot.” I close my eyes. “I can still feel his hands on my body, squeezing my breasts until I thought I would burst. His fingers slithered south, and he did things I don’t want to remember.” I look up at Holt as tears roll down his face. “Um, he didn’t, you know, but he came close. I was still a virgin when we—”

  Holt lands his lips over mine to quell me, and I swallow down the rest of the words. Holt knows. A weight has been lifted off my body. An entire iron pot I’ve been carrying around with me all these years has slipped from my grasp, and I’m light as a feather. I’m finally set loose from the nylon chains I was fettered in all those years ago. Just speaking it out loud, right here to the man I love, set me free from the power that monster had over me all this time.

  “As strange as it sounds, that felt good to get out,” I whisp
er the words with a thread of shame.

  “That doesn’t sound strange at all. Izzy”—he blows a breath into my hair, warming me—“I want to find him and kill him.”

  “No. It’s over. I’m fine, and Laney is fine. He took off the next day, and it was back to square one with Mom and her steady string of morons. None were ever as bad as he was. I was able to protect Laney until she was off to college. I hung around and made sure there were no more perverts—which there were, but I ran them all off, one by one. Also, I was determined to keep my promise to my father and not leave my mother alone. It was sort of my fault she was alone to begin with, but I couldn’t let those assholes stay—and I knew if they couldn’t I’d have to. It was a small price to pay.”

  “They were never going to stick around and be loyal to your mom, Iz. You did the right thing by kicking their asses out the door. She was sucking off the bottom of the pond, to put it mildly.”

  “I can see that now. And, with my dad back, it sort of eases the burden off me a bit.”

  “Are they together?”

  “I don’t know. He’s staying at the house, but he’s in Laney’s old room.”

  “I guess it’s all going to work out like it’s supposed to.”

  “For the first time in a long time, I’m okay with that.” A dull laugh rattles from my chest. “When I was a kid, before my dad left, I had this jar that I used to whisper my wishes and dreams into. It sounds insane, I know, but I thought that way I could always have them. I thought maybe someday when I was older I’d unleash them into the world, and they’d come true.” I turn to face him fully and gaze up at his sharp cut cheeks, the brows that fan over his stainless-colored eyes. “And here you are. Every wish and dream I’ve ever had—alive and in the flesh.”

  His eyes shine like shards of broken glass. “Izzy”—he presses it out like a dying breath—“I want you to have that again. I want you to believe in all of your wishes and dreams. I want to be able to give you that.”