by Amy Daws
“Fuck me!” I exclaim, feeling instant relief at being out of that hotbox hell of a house. I take in the Clarke family property. Their backyard consists of several acres of rolling English hillsides. It’s gorgeous countryside, even in the rain. So green and lush with various strips of hay rows scattered throughout. I tip my chin up to the sky and allow the mist to moisten my already wet face. Maybe it’ll rinse the tears off and give my heart a break for a minute. “This is all such bullshit,” I say quietly.
“You can say that again,” a voice says from a distance.
I look around and see Marisa’s brother, Hayden, sitting down on the ground beneath a small overhang and leaning against an old stony wall side of the house. Marisa had three siblings. Her older brother, Theo, her younger brother, Hayden, and a teenage sister named Daphney.
I’d met Hayden once before the funeral, when I came back home for a long weekend with Marisa. He was four years younger than me and seemed a bit like a wild child. Playful, even. Marisa was so desperate for me to see where she grew up and meet her siblings because she said it was so magical. And she was right, it was. So magical I never came back.
“You look like you need a drink,” Hayden states, shaking a bottle of wine in front of him invitingly.
I walk over and slide down the stony wall to sit down. He hands me the bottle and I tip it back to my lips and take a generous drink. The warmth it spreads in my throat is a welcome contrast to the raw ache I’ve been feeling for the entire week since finding out about Marisa’s death.
“You’re the roommate, right?” he asks as I press my sleeve to my mouth and hand him back the bottle.
“Yeah. And friend…kind of. I’m Reyna.”
“I’m Hayden.” He reaches out and shakes my hand formally. He then pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers one to me. I shake my head so he lights one for himself and takes a long drag. “We’ve met once, right?” he asks, blowing out smoke while talking.
“Yeah I came out to visit with Marisa once. It was a couple years ago. I haven’t been back.”
“Why not? Because it’s all bullshit?” he winks playfully at me.
“Actually, no. I loved it here.” Being honest, I add, “It was just too perfect.”
He arches one brow sardonically, so I continue.
“You and Daphney got in this huge argument over the kind of pie your mom was going to make for dessert. You told Daphney she was a prissy baby and she started to cry.” A maniacal giggle escapes my mouth mid-sentence. “Sorry. That’s mean of me to laugh.”
“By all means, be honest!”
“No…I mean…it’s a compliment really. You guys just all argued and fought and teased each other mercilessly. There was tons of drama…never a dull moment. I was so envious of it that I avoided ever accepting another invitation from Marisa to come visit again.”
“Blimey. That’s messed up.” He offers the wine back to me and I take another swig. “So you know the boyfriend then? You were all at Oxford together, right?”
I nearly choke on the wine. “Liam? Yeah, I know him.”
“My brother, Theo, and Liam have been talking I guess. Have been ever since Marisa…died.” He swallows uncomfortably. “Theo says Liam was going to propose. Is that true?”
His gray eyes pierce me with an urgency that shows he’s basing a lot of weight on the answer to this question. I take one more drink of the bottle and hand it back to him, nodding a silent yes.
He sighs heavily and takes a pull from the bottle with the same hand that’s holding his cigarette. “Life is fucking bull shite is right.”
“My brother is fucking seeing someone.”
I pause, mid swipe of a glossy black polish I’m applying to my toenails. Hayden appears from the hallway. He’s dressed in a pair of dress slacks and a wrinkled dress shirt.
“This is a bad thing?” I look back down and finish my final toe, then screw the lid on tight and stretch my legs out in front of me. I give them a little wiggle to help them dry.
His face morphs into indignation. “Considering I know fuck all about her, yeah. I mean, why does he think he can just—”
“Date?”
“It’s more than dating,” he grumbles. “The prat is acting like he’s in love. It’s maddening.”
“Why?”
“You know why, Rey.”
I pause and take in his slouched stance and defeated expression. I know exactly why Hayden is upset, even if he won’t say it out loud. For the past three years, the Clarke family have all been living in a state of darkness. Still stuck in an endless grief of mourning over the loss of Marisa.
The Clarkes are an affluent family, so they’re very private about their struggles in some ways, but public in others. For example, Hayden’s mother self-medicates with charity work. They have a suicide gala coming up that they do every year. It’s an extremely sensitive subject for Hayden because without actually saying so, he’s the reason they do it. His history with booze, pills, and reckless driving can’t be denied. He has a track record. I try not to come down on him about it. He already isn’t trusted with a car from his parents. I just make sure he’s safe and never driving when I know he’s been drinking.
Which is most days to be honest.
If anything, I’d call Hayden a high functioning alcoholic. He drinks to oblivion at night but is up and working every single day. Working doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a problem, but at least he can’t be blamed for ruining the family furniture business
Hayden’s sister, Daphney, struggled in school after Marisa’s death. She was flunking in several classes and eventually had to drop out and take an entire year over. Daphney texts me on occasion. She’s not even twenty-years-old and worries about her brother. She knows that I see a lot of Hayden, so I think she feels closer to him when she keeps up with me. Hayden’s older brother, Theo, is the most mysterious. Definitely a silent mourner. He’s very standoffish and I’ve probably had one whole conversation with him in the five years I’ve known the Clarke family.
Hayden says his family is living in “the darkness.” I tell him that’s called depression. And I fit in quite well with the sorry bunch.
“When I see Theo smiling, it makes me so, so…” Hayden’s jaw clenches down and his fists ball up. “Do you have anything to drink? Something hard.”
I nod and he helps himself to my liquor cabinet. He pours vodka into a glass of ice and adds a splash of club soda. This is obviously upsetting Hayden. I suppose Theo dating would be a sign of him moving on without the rest of the family. This shocks me even because Theo has always been the silent, cryptic one I could never figure out.
“Let’s go out tonight, Rey,” Hayden says buoyantly.
“Out?”
“Yes, out. What time are you off work?”
“Midnight actually.”
“Perfect, I’ll just come to the club and wait for you. There’s a new twenty-four hour place I’ve been wanting to check out.”
I want to argue with him and tell him we shouldn’t go out clubbing after midnight when we’re supposed to be trying to cut back on our reckless behavior. Logically, I know what we’re planning is bad for us. But it’s so much easier to give in to the temptation of oblivion than to deal with the reality that Liam is around and looking better than ever.
The attraction I still feel for him feels like the largest bubble of guilt resting heavily on my chest. I didn’t expect him to look so good. I didn’t expect him to get even more attractive and more intriguing. There was always something special about him in grad school, but because he was with Marisa, I never even entertained the idea.
That was until we both went way too far.
The sharp tightening in my chest is returning. It’s that same painful feeling that was my constant companion the days following Marisa’s death. So many memories of her are coming to the forefront of my mind now that Liam and my pain are back.
Instead, I agree to Hayden’s plan and he hangs out and watches me get ready, a
nnoyingly commenting on every selection I make as he sips his V&T. I load up on my makeup, prepping for our night out after I get off. My eyes are an unusual gray. At times, they look olive-green; other times they look emerald green. I can’t help but wonder if my father’s did the same thing.
I pair my black CT tank with olive green skinnies, and then tuck a glittery black top into my purse to change in to later. I throw on my favorite black ankle boots and Hayden walks me to the Tube stop, telling me he’ll stop by later. He kisses me on the forehead and turns to flag down a cab.
I briefly worry about how much more he’ll drink before I see him again. Then I relax when I see him fold his tall frame into a cab. He’s getting in a cab, Rey. He’s being smart. He’s got this.
Back at Club Taint, I’m in the process of re-stocking the liquor bottles that are running low, combining the ones with less than half inside and replacing the empties. My first night last night went better than I expected. After Liam left, Frank passed me off to a large fellow named Callum to show me the ropes behind the bar. Callum is a towering 6’ 6” and has dark skin, black hair, and a goatee. He’s hefty but loaded with muscle. Honestly, he looks more like a bouncer than a bartender, but his thick Turkish accent is positively panty-melting to the loads of hen parties that come in every night.
“Oxford, you came back for more pain, did ye?”
I roll my eyes as he tosses a bar rag at me. “Callum, you can call me Reyna. I wish Frank would.”
“People can wish lots of things of Frank that never come true. That man cannot be controlled.”
“What’s his story anyway? He doesn’t seem to be too keen on bar management,” I ask, pausing my work and propping my back against the bar.
“This is true. Frank is not very familiar with working in general. He is…as you say…very posh. His family is quite famous in London high society.”
“Interesting. What do they think of him managing a place like Club Taint?” This makes me feel like Frank and I have more in common than I realized. A little rebellion against the parental units is something I’m very familiar with.
“Aye, Frank doesn’t really talk much about them, but I don’t think there are good feelings with his family. He seems to call his friends his family and spends all of his time with them. His roommates especially. I’ve met them all at a Tarts and Vicars party not so long ago. They are very special indeed. There’s a dynamic in that house unlike any I’ve ever seen before.”
“You talking about me, Callum?” an American female voice says from behind me. I turn around to find a gorgeously tall brunette with the most stunning blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Finley!” Callum strides past me, pops the bar top up, and engulfs her in a huge hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I know!” Her smile is so genuine I can’t help but smile along with her. I realize what a complete loser I must look like so I quickly wipe the grin off my face.
“And where is this Brody? I have still not met him. Frank raves about him, though. You might want to have a word with him about that. He seems to somehow know very intimate details about your husband.”
Finley laughs heartily and shakes her head. “God! Frank and Beans is too much sometimes. He has a bit of a man crush on my hubby after getting an eyeful during an unfortunate hallway incident. I’m glad to hear my husband’s reputation precedes him, though!”
“That it does. Oh, Finley, this is Rey, our newest bartender.” Callum gestures to me and she raises her eyebrows, taking in my tattoo sleeve briefly.
“Hey, Rey!” Finley reaches her hand out and I take it in a firm shake. “Nice to meet you. Frank is your boss right now? Girl! I feel sorry for you!”
I can’t help but smile. “Oh, he’s not all bad. Just a little…challenging.”
She giggles and winks at me. She looks around cautiously and when she decides the coast is clear she leans across the bar and speaks in a hushed tone, “You’re totally right. He’s actually one of the best. But you’ll survive a lot easier around him if you go toe to toe. Start with calling him Frank and Beans. He’ll love that.” She tweaks her eyebrows playfully.
“I can do that.” I grin back at her.
“Fin Bin!” Frank suddenly cries from the back hallway. “I’m back here!”
Finley shoots Callum and me one last stunning smile and saunters back down the hall. I watch Frank embrace her in one of the most genuine hugs I’ve ever seen and can’t help but wonder what it’s like in that house that Callum says they all live in together. What would that sense of family friendships be like? Would I have that with Marisa and Liam if things hadn’t all gone so horribly wrong?
Callum makes himself busy, continuing my training and before I know it, it’s eleven o’clock and I’m slinging drinks like a seasoned pro. The clientele at Club Taint is varied and unique, but I feel like I fit right in. My tattoos were never something I did to stand out. They were memorials that I felt compelled to represent. They were such a large part of me that I couldn’t imagine myself existing without them. But it’s always the first thing people notice on me.
I watch a group of girls down a row of shots I mixed and am clanking the glasses together to throw into the washer when a voice slurs from above me. “You look positively shag-worthy back there.”
I look up and see Hayden’s familiar droopy expression gazing down at me from the other side of the bar. “Well, you’ve shagged me so your opinion is a bit biased,” I reply, shooting him a sardonic half smile.
He slumps down into a barstool and slaps a ten pound note on the bar top, “Beer me, wench!”
I shake my head and grab him a Ginge on Top bottle, popping the top off with my bottle opener attached to the loop on my jeans. I set it down in front of him and see that he’s well on his way to completely fucked up.
“You look like you’ve been having a good time.”
He smiles dopily at me. “I was just round the pub from my flat. Just had a couple.” He squints as his fingers form an inch of space in front of his eyes. “You ready for a night on the town?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“You guess so?”
“Well, it doesn’t seem quite as exciting when you’re already three sheets to the wind.”
“Please, Rey. I’m hardly wasted. I’m ready for a night of fun. Don’t start with the nagging.”
His comment stings and I won’t tolerate it. “Don’t fuck with me like that, Hayden. I nag you about one single thing and you know exactly why I do. I’m on your side, always.”
He glares at me. “You could have fooled me. You’ve been different lately.”
“That may be true, but I still don’t deserve to be categorized with everybody else. That shit hurts.”
“Well, why don’t you tell me why you keep pulling away from me then?” His gray eyes are hard and crinkled around the edges as he stares me down.
“I’m not pulling away!” I cry in shock. Hayden’s words are a clear indication that he is drunk. He never gets this personal unless he’s well on his way to hammered town or unless he’s comforting me after one of my many bad dreams.
“You are, Rey. You’re pulling away from me and leaving me alone. I can feel it.” He props his elbows up on the bar and cradles his head in his hands. I could cry at the sad, desolate state of him.
“Hayden, listen to me. You are still my best friend. None of that has changed. I’m just trying to help us get out of this darkness, too.”
“The darkness is my home. It’s where I belong. Maybe forever.” He moves to stand up.
“Hayden,” I reach out and grab his wrist. He looks down at my hand on him like it’s the kiss of Judas. “Stop!”
“I’m suddenly not up for going out anymore, Rey.” He pulls his hand free and pushes past the crowd of people heading toward the door.
“You good?” Callum asks, appearing beside me.
Without diverting my gaze from Hayden, I ask, “Do you think you could follow him out and make sure
he finds a cab and isn’t driving?”
“Consider it done.” Callum hustles out of the busy bar area and in the direction Hayden is heading.
I want to run after Hayden. I want to hug him, comfort him, help him forget whatever demon he’s fighting with right now. But I can’t. Whatever’s warring inside of him has a lot more to do with him than it does with me. I just need to know he’s being safe.
I’m asleep on a firm surface and wake to find voices arguing above me. “Research shows that allowing multiples to co-bed in the NICU improves their health. There are fewer episodes of bradycardia, better thermo-regulation, and lower oxygen needs.”
“Dr. Miller, I appreciate your vast knowledge, I do. But, the risks of co-bedding all four of them are too great. We risk infection since Baby D isn’t on nasal cannula oxygen, exposing her—”
“Reyna! Her name is Reyna! Use her damn name! She’s lying right in front of us.” My mother’s voice is screaming as she breaks out in loud sobs. “They need to be together! They’re dying! They are all dying right in front of me and none of you are doing anything!”
My father’s voice hushes my mother’s, but she only screams louder, “No, James, no! I can’t stand by when I know I can save them. I can save all four of them! Just let me touch them! I need to hold them. I need to feel their hearts on my heart…Please!”
Her cries echo in the large NICU. Nurses and other doctors all stop to watch the scene unfolding. “Dr. Miller, please. These kinds of emotions aren’t good for your babies—”
My father’s voice interrupts, “Honey, please, you’re going to pull out your stitches. You need to sit back down in the wheelchair.”
“I can’t. I can’t sit here any longer and watch these idiots kill all of my babies! It’s my fault they’re in here. I shouldn’t have been operating. I should have been in bed. I should have known better. I should have done things differently. God, please! Please, no,” my mother cries more and I blink my eyes open for the first time and stare at her through the foggy plastic incubator.