I laugh to myself, oddly enough not having a hard time envisioning John behind bars. Something tells me while he may work hard, he plays even harder.
Refocusing, I open my laptop and pull my email back up, needing to get some things taken care of before I leave.
Chapter Three
Abel
“I can’t get over how tan you are.” Claire smiles at me from across the table.
“I spent a lot of time on the beach.” I shrug, fiddling with the straw wrapper in front of me.
“You look good.”
“You just saw me a week ago,” I remind her.
“Yeah, but that was Facetime. Seeing you here, in person, after nearly three years. I don’t know, you just seem better.”
I resist the urge to tell her that getting out of bed every day feels like a chore. Or that since I arrived in Chicago three days ago, I’ve felt this overwhelming weight pressing down on my chest that makes me feel like I’m suffocating. Instead, I smile and nod. I know that if anyone understands my pain, it’s Claire. Finley was her sister after all. Maybe in a way I feel like I’m protecting her by making her believe that I’m okay. I’m not even sure I know what okay looks like anymore.
While we’ve talked nearly every week since I left three years ago, recently most of our conversations have been pretty light. In the beginning, we talked about Finley a lot, but after a while there wasn’t much to say that we hadn’t already said.
“How are you? Still seeing that guy from work?”
“Hell no.” She crinkles her nose.
“What happened? I thought you really liked him.”
“So did I. That was until I caught him making out with Bethany in the break room.”
“In the break room?” I arch a brow.
“Oh yeah. I’m not sure if the soda machine has ever seen such action before.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad I found out what a slime ball he was before things went too far.” She forces a smile. “What about you? You seeing anyone?”
“You already know the answer to that. You ask me every time we talk.”
“Maybe now that you’re home you can open yourself up to the possibility of an actual relationship.”
“I’m not interested in a relationship.”
“Just emotionless fucking then?”
I choke out a laugh at her bluntness. “There’s something to be said for emotionless sex.”
“I beg to differ. What is sex without emotion? It’s empty and meaningless.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
“Abel,” she starts but I quickly cut her off.
“I’m not ready.” I don’t leave any room for argument with my tone.
“It’s been three years. Don’t you think...”
“I said I’m not ready, Claire,” I grind out. She falls silent, blowing out a slow breath. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head.
“Don’t be.” She holds her hand up to stop me. “I shouldn’t push.” She pauses before changing the subject. “I talked to your mom the other day. She seems to be doing well. Still cancer free.”
“Yeah, she is. She’s focused on Andrew’s wedding right now. I swear, if she asks me if I’ve made it to the tailor to get my measurements for my tux one more time I’m going to lose my mind.”
“She just wants to make sure everything is perfect for his big day. You should cut her some slack.”
“I’m trying.” I sigh. “It’s just harder than I thought... Being back here.”
“Give it time. It’s only been three days.”
“I see her everywhere,” I admit in a moment of vulnerability.
“I know the feeling.” She reaches across the table and pats my hand.
“How do you handle it?”
“When I see something that reminds me of her, or I hear a song on the radio, or I pass her favorite restaurant, I try to remember her smile and her laugh. I try to focus on how lucky I was to have her in my life for the time I got her and not be angry that I didn’t get more.”
“But I wanted more. So much fucking more.” I blow out a defeated breath.
“I know you did. And you deserved more. But you can’t torture yourself over what you lost. You have to remember what you had. Remember her, the way she wanted to be remembered. And remember what she asked of you.” She falls silent for a long moment. “All she wanted was for you to find happiness again.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I admit.
“You can. And you will. You can’t force it, but you also can’t push it away.”
“You remind me so much of her.” I look into Claire’s eyes and sometimes I swear I see Finley staring back at me. I’m not sure if it brings me comfort or deepens the pain.
“I’m glad.”
“You are?”
“Of course I am. She was my sister.”
“You’re strong, just like she was.”
“I like to think I am, but most days I’m not so sure.” Claire shrugs, relaxing back into her chair. “So, how’s the work prospects coming along?” she asks, and I’m relieved for the change in topic.
“Not too bad. A lot of the bars I used to play at were happy to welcome me back. I’ve got my first gig lined up for next week.”
“Are you nervous to be back on the scene?”
“A little. This will be the first time I’ve played a show in Chicago since...”
“Since before Finley died.”
I nod slowly.
“You’ll be great,” she reassures me. “Tell you what, text me the details and maybe I can make it out to see you play.”
“You’d do that?”
“You’re family. Of course I would. Besides, it’ll do you good to look into the crowd and see a familiar face.”
“You’re probably right. For all the years I’ve played I don’t think I’ve ever felt as uncertain of myself as I do right now.”
“It’s just being back home. You’ll get up on that stage and it won’t matter where you are. Illinois, California; it’s all the same as long as you’re on a stage. No matter how big or how small, you’ve always belonged there. Finley knew it and I know it too.”
“Thank you. I know it probably seems juvenile but sometimes it helps to hear someone say that.”
“We all need a little reassurance from time to time.”
“I think I need more than a little these days.” I chuckle, turning my gaze to the right when our waitress appears with our order.
“Chicken wings for the gentleman.” She sets my food in front of me. “Salad for the lady.” She smiles, her eyes lingering on me for longer than I like.
“So typical,” Claire whines. “Men always get to eat the good food.”
“Technically, you could have gotten wings,” I remind her.
“Yeah, right. I’ll gain five pounds just looking at yours.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you right now?” the young waitress interrupts.
“I think we’re good,” I tell her, my eyes not leaving Claire. “You want a wing?”
“Are you trying to torture me right now?” She laughs, shaking her head.
“Come on, live a little.”
“By live a little you mean get fat.”
“One, you are nowhere near fat. Two, one wing isn’t going to change that. Now shut the fuck up and take a wing.” I pick one up off my plate and shove it in her face.
“God.” She sighs loudly before taking the wing from my hand. “Way to peer pressure me.” She tries to fight the smile on her lips but fails miserably.
Seconds pass before she tears off a bite and pops it into her mouth, moaning dramatically as she does.
“I forgot how good wings are.” She takes another bite.
“See, sometimes it is worth it.”
“Tell me that in sixty seconds when I’m mad at myself for being so weak.”
“I’ll just shove another wing at you to keep you quiet.” I laug
h.
“Remind me again what my sister saw in you.”
“Well, my obvious charm and good looks, of course.” The smile on my face feels more natural than it has in a very long time.
“Good to see California hasn’t weakened your sense of humor.”
“I wasn’t being funny,” I deadpan, able to hold a straight face for all of five seconds before we both start laughing.
——
“Remind me again why I agreed to this,” I grumble, following my brother Aaron through the thick wood doors of Ripley’s Tavern.
“Well, for one, he’s your brother. And for two, you’re in the wedding party, and as such it is customary to attend the bachelor party.”
“Don’t they usually do these things right before the wedding? Why the hell are they doing it two weeks prior?”
“People do them whenever the hell they want. Besides, this was the only weekend before the wedding that they were free.” He crosses the crowded room toward the back where a private party room is located.
“I should have stayed in California a week longer. Adam had the right idea not flying in until the weekend of the wedding.”
“Are you going to moan and groan all night or are you going to shut the fuck up and try to have a little fun? I know it’s a foreign concept to you, bro, but how about you put on a happy face for Andrew’s sake.”
I’m seconds away from smarting off an asshole comment but somehow, I manage to refrain. Aaron’s right, tonight isn’t about me. It’s about Andrew. And while I’d like to strangle him more times than not, he’s still my brother and I owe it to him to not ruin his good time.
“There you fuckers are!” Our mutual friend, Nick spots us the moment we enter the room. “’Bout time you showed up.” He closes the distance between us, shaking Aaron’s hand first before reaching for mine. “Abel.” He pulls me into a half hug. “Long time no see, brother.”
“How’s it going, Nick?” I pat his shoulder once before stepping back.
“Oh you know, living the life.” He raises his rocks glass that’s filled with an amber liquid.
“Starting early I see,” Aaron comments next to me. “What are you drinking?”
“Scotch. You want one?”
“I think I’m gonna stick with beer tonight.” Aaron shakes his head.
“Suit yourself. Abel?” Nick turns his attention to me.
“Actually, scotch sounds perfect.” I nod, following Nick when he turns and heads toward the small bar along the far back wall, while Aaron joins the other guys sitting around a long rectangular table in the center of the room. Most of them I know, some I don’t recognize. Based on how a few of them are dressed, I’d venture to say they’re colleagues of Andrew’s from the law firm he works at.
Sliding up on a barstool next to Nick, I order a double shot on the rocks from the middle-aged man working the bar.
“So where is my brother?” I ask, looking around for Andrew. “Isn’t this his party?”
“Sam’s bachelorette party is tonight, too. I guess he wanted to see her beforehand. Probably wanted to pound one out really quick.” He chuckles.
“Not a visual I want.” I crinkle my nose and shake my head, nodding when the bartender sets my drink in front of me.
“So, listen, not to bring the party down before it has even begun, but I wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your girl.” The moment the condolence leaves his lips, the familiar ache in my chest returns full force. Not that it ever leaves; I’ve just gotten somewhat used to it.
Lifting my rocks glass, I take a long drink before setting it back on the bar.
“Thanks, man.” I nod, keeping my gaze forward.
“I just...” He stops midsentence due to a commotion on the other side of the room. We both turn in unison to see my brothers Andrew and Alex enter the room.
“Gentleman.” Andrew holds out his arms and I instantly hear the slur in his voice.
“Fuck me. Is he already drunk?” Nick asks, clearly thinking the same thing as me.
“This is going to be a long night.” I knock back the rest of my scotch and gesture to the bartender for another.
“I’m getting married,” Andrew announces, as if we didn’t already know.
“Because the bachelor party didn’t make that apparent,” I mutter under my breath.
“Stop talking and start drinking,” Aaron yells at Andrew and the other guys all start laughing.
I turn back around, not interested in whatever else my brother has to say.
“You ready for this?” Nick chuckles, sensing my aggravation.
“Not in the least.” I grab my second scotch when the bartender takes my empty and replaces it with a full one.
I’m happy for my brother, truly I am. But it’s hard to join in on his happiness when I feel like my only chance at true happiness died the same day she did. Maybe that makes me selfish, that I can’t see past my own pain to celebrate for my brother. Or maybe it’s easier to be pissed off than to give in to what I’m really feeling.
“I say we get so hammered that we have fun no matter what bullshit we end up doing.”
“I’m game with that.” I clink my glass against Nick’s and dump the contents down my throat, the liquid burning a warm path all the way to my stomach.
——
“I thought we were dropping you off at your place?” I ask, my gaze going from the window of the SUV to Andrew, who’s so drunk at this point he can barely hold his head up.
Andrew has never been much of a drinker, so being able to handle his liquor is not something he ever mastered. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t finding a little humor in seeing him this wasted just three hours after his party began.
“This is where Sam is,” Alex answers my question.
“So why are we here, then?” I ask, looking back out the window to the bright neon sign that reads Pulsations. “Are we picking her up?”
“No, we’re going in?”
“In there?” I ask, gesturing to the dance club.
“Relax, little brother. Hot girls dancing on tables and stiff drinks. What more could you ask for?”
“My fucking bed for starters.”
“You know, you used to be a lot more fun.” He crinkles his forehead.
“And you used to be less of a dick,” I point out.
“I may be a dick, brother, but at least I know how to enjoy myself from time to time. Trust me, when you get married and have a raging two-year-old running your household, you’ll live for nights like this.”
I resist the urge to remind him that I’ve already been married, and instead push open the door and quickly climb out.
Andrew’s party started with about twenty people and has since dwindled to half that. If I had known this is where we were heading, I would have dipped out early, especially after Nick bailed, leaving me to fend for myself.
“Come on,” Alex says from behind me. I turn just in time to see him hoist Andrew from the back of the vehicle.
“You sure it’s a good idea to take him in there?” I ask.
“He’ll be fine. He just needs a water and some time to sober up a little.”
“What he needs is two Tylenol and a pillow.” I snort.
“Where’s my girl?” Andrew slurs, completely oblivious to the conversation taking place right in front of him.
“Hey, Aaron,” Alex calls, waiting until our other brother steps up next to us. “Here.” He playfully shoves Andrew in his direction. Aaron barely catches him before he would have likely hit the ground.
“Seriously, asshole?” Aaron grinds out, helping Andrew stand upright.
“What? I’ve been on babysitting duty all night. It’s your job now.” He gives Aaron a knowing smirk and then takes off toward the front entrance of the club.
“Let’s just stick his ass back in the car and take him home,” I suggest.
“I’m not going home.” Andrew chooses this moment to actually listen. Shaking off Aaron’s grasp,
he follows Alex inside, impressively able to walk a semi-straight line as he does.
“Last stop. Might as well make the best of it.” Aaron shrugs.
“Fuck me,” I mutter under my breath before following my three brothers into the club.
Loud, pulsating music instantly surrounds me the moment I step inside. I squint, having trouble seeing through the dark room lit only by rotating colored lights that dance across the floor.
The place is packed. The dance floor is crammed with people. The bar is surrounded and the two stages on either side of the room are both overflowing with drunk girls trying to show off their dance moves.
Andrew and a few others make their way onto the dance floor, no doubt in search of Sam, while I veer straight toward the bar.
The music is so loud I have to scream my drink order at the bartender and that’s after waiting nearly fifteen minutes just to reach the bar. I order a double, knowing there’s no way I’m going to wait in that line again anytime soon.
Throwing a twenty on the bar, I snag my drink and turn, running straight into a girl standing entirely too close behind me. Some of the amber liquid in my glass sloshes out, dripping over my hand, down the front of my shirt, and onto the floor.
“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry,” she says seconds before my fiery gaze shoots up from the floor and lands on a petite blonde with big blue eyes and full lips painted bright red.
“Ever hear of personal space?” I lash out, ignoring how attractive she is. My eyes rack down the length of her. Ample chest, small waist, curvy hips. All accented by a little black number.
“Ever hear of an accident?” she immediately bites back, pretending to ignore the fact that I was very clearly checking her out.
“It was an accident that you were standing so close?” I raise my voice to be heard over the music.
“It’s not like I had much of a choice.” She gestures to the space behind her, or rather the lack thereof.
“You did actually. You could have chosen not to stand so close,” I tell her, stepping further into her space. She instinctively takes a step back, running into the girl standing directly behind her.
“Sorry.” She turns her head and apologizes before her gaze snaps back to mine. “Are you done now or are you going to stand here the rest of the night glaring at me?”
What Comes After Page 2