by L. M. Reid
Gabe nods and moves to the desk.
“I’m going to give you what you need, but in return I need a warrant, a subpoena, something,” I tell the detective. I hand him a sheet of paper. “That’s Finn Wellington’s address. If you decide to pay him a visit – tell him he’s fired.”
“Thank you for your help,” Detective Valente says as he leaves the office with the pieces to Sierra’s accident in his hands.
“How the fuck did that happen?” I shout at Gabe.
He shrugs. “Finn’s been a loose cannon since day one. I never thought he would do something like that though. I mean, fuck. Some is dead because of him.”
“Not just someone…Sierra, Chloe’s sister.” I run my hands through my hair. The satisfaction I felt moments ago from helping to solve her sister’s accident, gone. Sure, I helped solve it, but I also caused it.
I grab my phone off my desk.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to call Chloe; I have to tell her before the police do.”
The phone rings and rings. The whole while I silently pray she doesn’t hate me when this all comes crashing down. Voicemail. I glance at the clock. Fuck, she’s in class. I leave a desperate message, pleading her to call me as soon as she gets it. I need to be the one to tell her, to explain, fuck… to apologize.
How the hell did I let this happen?
29
Chloe
My final session with Doctor Adams. It’s only been six weeks, but everything is so much different now. Sure, I still hate the Sierra is gone. I always will. Yes, I still wish that the person who did this to her would pay – but that doesn’t seem likely anymore. What I do have now, is peace. I no longer feel guilty. As much as I wish I could change the events of that night, I can’t. I don’t feel alone anymore either. Thanks to Griffin.
We’re able to commiserate over our losses, him with his mother and me with Sierra. I have someone who understands, who knows exactly how I feel when for so long I felt like no one did. Not that they didn’t try, especially poor Nat. She did everything she could. I am so grateful to her for her patience with me.
While I am far from cured, I’m much better. I have a better grasp on my grief and a much safer outlet to release it in – Griffin’s arms.
As I exit the building that houses Doctor Adams office, I glance down at my phone. Seven missed calls from Griffin. Seven voicemails. My heart begins to race. He doesn’t call like this. He’s not that persistent and possessive. He knows all get back to him when I can. Something must be wrong.
Between his missed calls are calls from Detective Valente, the detective who is working my sister’s case. He hasn’t called in months. Any leads he had dried up. So why is he calling now?
I need to call Griffin first, make sure that he’s okay.
Just as I am about to call him, Detective Valente’s number comes through again. “Hello?”
“Ms. Scott, this is Detective Valente.”
“Hi Detective, what can I do for you?”
“Actually,” he begins, “I have some news for you. We found the man who hit your sister. They’re bringing him in now. Along with the man who allowed him to drive in his condition.”
“Condition? How can you be sure what his condition was? It’s been so long.”
Detective Valente had told me that even if we were able to find who hit Sierra, proving they were drunk at the time would be nearly impossible. How would they prove that he was drunk when so much time had elapsed? There is no way to know what condition he was in at the time of the accident.
“Well, after he struck your sister, it seems he passed out in the car in his driveway. When he girlfriend couldn’t get a response from him, he took him to the hospital. He was three times over the legal limit.”
All the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. The man who killed my sister would finally pay. I feel almost giddy at the news. I can finally get my closure.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I say.
“You can thank your boyfriend,” I tell him.
“My boyfriend?”
“Griffin Hayes? He said you two were dating?”
“We are, but what does he have to do with any of this?”
“The man that hit your sister, he had been at his club that night. Mr. Hayes was kind enough to supply us with the footage and credit card receipt to prove it. Thanks to him, the man that killed your sister is going to pay.”
The phone falls from my hand. Thanks to him, my sister is dead.
30
Griffin
Her class is long over. There is no way she hasn’t gotten my messages yet. There is also no way that she hasn’t spoken to Detective Valente yet either.
The idea of losing her is causing a physical ache inside me. One that won’t be eased until I know we are okay. Not until she knows that I had no part in this, that had I known…
Problem is, I should have known. It’s my club, my employees. I should have known better what was going on, or not going on in this case. Like Finn’s direct violation of my rules. Her sister’s death is on me. I know I blame myself. I’m sure she does, too. She has every damn right to.
I need to apologize, try to make things right. Losing Chloe, it isn’t an option. At least, it’s not one that I will accept willingly. No, for Chloe, I will fight like I have never fought before.
First step – pound on her door until her or Nat answers. So far, neither is giving in though I am not entirely sure either of them is even home. That’s fine, I’ll wait. Sitting on the floor, I rest my back against her door. I shut my eyes trying to think of what to say to her, how to say it. How can I make her understand?
Understand what exactly? That one of my employees did something so ridiculously stupid, but it wasn’t my fault. Even I’m having a hard time with that one. I may not have been the one to let him drive, but it was my club he was at. I’m hoping my willingness to work with the police, provide them whatever they need, buys me a few points in the forgiveness category.
“What are you doing here?” The anger in her voice is evident, and warranted.
My eyes fly open at the sound of her voice. I spring to my feet. “Chloe,” I say as I reach for her.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.”
I pull my hand back and shove it in my pocket. Not touching her, it’s easier said than done.
“I am so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t,” she bites back. “You are too busy fucking your female customers to know what the hell goes on around there.”
I want to tell her she’s wrong, but I know there is at least a hint of truth to what she’s saying. While everything inside me wants to put her theory to bed, argue exactly how involved I am in my club, how I have rules in place, things that the employees are expected to follow, I don’t. It’s not going to help, and she has every right to be angry. I will take everything she has to throw at me as long as it means I have a chance with her.
“You did this. You’re the reason she’s dead.”
“No. You know I would have never let someone drive drunk. I would have…”
“Little hard to control what happens at the club when your busy in your office getting your dick wet.”
“I can’t be everywhere at once. Not even Gabe can. I have rules. I expect them to be followed, but I can’t guarantee every second of every night that they are. Finn did this. He broke the rule; he gave that son of a bitch the car. And I took care of that. I fired Finn as soon as I found out.”
“Six. Months. Later.”
“You have no idea how sorry I am. This is killing me.”
“Killing you? You? What about Sierra, Griffin? She’s the one who’s actually dead, no thanks to you. And what about me? I literally feel like a piece of me died with her. Do you have any idea the relief I feel knowing my sister’s murderer is going to be brought to justice only to then have my heart broken by the fact that the man I love played a part in it?”
“You�
��re acting like I’m the one that hit her. I can’t control people, Chloe. I do the best I can, but ultimately, it’s everyone’s choice.”
“Of course, because God forbid you accept any responsibility.”
“Accept responsibility? What do you think I’m doing by coming here, begging for you to forgive me? I get that at least a part of this falls on me and I hate it. I’m trying to make things right though.”
“How exactly do you plan on making things right? Can you bring Sierra back? Because short of doing that, there isn’t a fucking thing you can do to make this right.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Get out of my way.”
“Not until we talk, until we figure this out.”
“There is nothing to figure out. We’re done.”
“No.”
“No? What do you think you’re going to do about it? Hmm? You going to have one of your drunken customers hit me, too?”
I can take whatever she has to throw at me, but that? That is one step too far. The fact that she would even think it, let alone say it?
“I know you’re hurting, but that is taking it too far.”
“You’re still here, so apparently, not.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I…” I don’t know what else to say or how to fix. I’m not sure at this point if I even can.
“Save it, you’ve done enough.”
As I stand there in the hallway, the loud bang of the door slamming shut reverberates through me. The sound signifies more to me than just a door shutting on a room. I fear it’s a door shutting on us, one that I may not be able to open again.
I get to the club early, determined to learn from my mistakes. Chloe may be talking from a place of anger, but she is on the money about one thing. I have spent too much time with my head buried in pussy. And it’s time to fix that.
Ten minutes to opening and everyone is milling around, chatting and laughing. I step onto a chair and shout to get their attention. With all eyes focused on me, I begin. “First, I want to thank you for all you do. This place wouldn’t be what it is without you. You make Lust. And for that I am so grateful to you. But, it’s come to my attention that things may not be running as I intended, rules aren’t being followed. That ends now. I will not tolerate customers being over served. I will not tolerate customers being allowed to drink and drive. I will not allow a single one of you to break either of those rules without there being consequences. We walk a thin line here between letting our customers have a good time and being the voice of reason in telling them when they could potentially do harm to themselves or others. We will never allow that line to be crossed. We will never allow someone to drive that shouldn’t drive. I don’t care if it pisses them off, I don’t care if they never come back. Safety is priority, is that understood?”
Silence falls over the room though I see a few nodding their heads. I realize I probably sound like a lunatic, though I’m sure most, if not all, of them have heard about Finn. Either way, I don’t care. I’ve fallen lax which allowed them to do the same. No more.
“Thanks and have a good shift,” I say before hopping down from the chair and heading to my office. I dust off the radio that I haven’t touched since New Year’s and turn it on.
“What are you doing?” Gabe asks as he watches me from the doorway.
“Getting ready for tonight,” I reply without giving him a further explanation.
“Okay,” he says drawing the word out.
“I need to be more active in the club. I haven’t been paying attention and shit is starting to slip.”
“Excuse me?” Gabe asks offended.
“No. You…” I run a hand through my hair. “Fuck.”
“What’s going on Griff?” Gabe asks, closing the office door behind him.
“This shit with Finn,” I tell him. “I just… it’s my fault. If I had been paying attention. If I had…”
“You pay me to do that,” Gabe says. “And I do a damn good job of it. This isn’t any more your fault than it is mine. Finn did this. Finn fucked up. And yes, unfortunately, Chloe’s sister paid the price. But, that’s on him. Not you.”
“I don’t know…”
“Well, I do. You weren’t even here that night Griff. There isn’t a damn thing that you could have done differently.”
I sink to the couch, my hands covering my face. “She hates me man.”
“Fuck her.
“Don’t do that,” I warn him.
“She has no right to make you feel like this. If she wants to blame someone, then she should blame the fucking guy that hit Sierra. Not you.”
“She’s hurt… she…”
“I don’t give a fuck what she is. It’s not fair to you. Not only do you make sure your customers get home safely, you’re putting every damn dime you have into a foundation to ensure that other establishments do too.”
“Maybe if I wasn’t so busy fucking woman after woman I would have noticed that my employees weren’t doing their job.”
“I’m not fucking anyone except my wife and the shit still happened. Come on man, I know she’s hurting but you have to know that what she’s saying is bullshit.”
“All I know is that her sister is dead, the guy who killed her was at my club, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to make any of this easier for her.”
Unwilling to continue the conversation I make my way out of the office and out to the Valet area. If they aren’t going to do it right, then I will just have to do it myself.
31
Chloe
The red steel door to the bar is in front of me. My eyes trained on the handle that I can’t seem to reach for. I’m frozen in my thoughts and my pain.
The moment Detective Valente told me that the man who killed my sister had come from Lust, I filled with rage. I was angry at the driver, at Griffin, even at myself. Not only did I work at Lust, I was sleeping with the man who, albeit indirectly, helped put my sister in the ground. Visions of Griffin standing at the bar, laughing and hitting on women, filled my head furthering my anger. Maybe if he had been paying closer attention to what was happening in his club, he could have prevented this.
The anger didn’t prevent the sadness from seeping in. Sadness that I can no longer be with the only man I have ever loved. A man who was the missing piece in my puzzle.
I had to get out of Dayton. I had to get away from Griffin.
He may have walked away earlier today when I told him to, but he’s not the kind of man that just gives up. I could see the determination in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let me go that easy. So, I ran.
I ran home, straight to the one place I feel the closest to Sierra. The only place I want to be right now – my dad’s bar, Andy’s.
Standing here in front of the door now though, I can’t seem to find it in me to go inside. I don’t want to have to explain Griffin’s part in Sierra’s death. I don’t want to have to think about him or how we’re over. I just don’t want to think period.
I take a deep breath in before I pull open the door.
It’s a Wednesday night, the bar is quiet. Both of my parents are here. My mom wiping down the tables while my dad chats with a customer at the bar.
They seem so… normal. How can they feel so normal when we just found out who killed Sierra? Why aren’t they angry, or sad? How can they seem so okay?
My mom is the first to see me. “Chloe, what are you doing here?”
They already know about Brian Davis being the driver that hit Sierra. What they don’t know is the role that Griffin played in it, how it was his club that Brian was leaving. That it was his employee that released the car to him. The place where I worked, the man I loved, they were both indirectly involved in the demise of my sister. All of which makes me feel like I’m at fault too.
When I don’t answer, when I just stand there staring at them, she makes her way to me. Her hands on my arms, “Are you okay, honey?”
I shake my head as I begin to sob.
Her a
rms wrap around me. I let her embrace me, let her do the mom thing and try to comfort me when I know she’s suffering inside too.
“Chloe, honey, what is it?” she pries.
“Sierra’s accident, it was Griffin’s fault,” I blurt out, another round of sobs escaping me.
“What are you talking about? The police, they found who did this.”
“They found him because of Griffin,” I say. “Because the guy had been at Lust that night. Because of Griffin, Sierra’s gone.” My mom holds me, allowing me to get out all of the hurt and anger I have been harboring since I found out the news. “How could he do something like this?”
She doesn’t respond, her silence making me feel worse. It’s as though I can hear her silent disappointment.
With her arm still around me, she leads me to the bar where my dad is. They both take a seat on either side of me.
“This isn’t Griffin’s fault,” my dad says sitting in the seat on the other side of me.
“How can you say that? It was his club, his employee,” I argue.
“He didn’t make the guy drive drunk,” my mother says. “The man did that on his own. And he is going to pay for what he did.”
“Griffin won’t. Sierra’s dead because his employee let a drunk man drive and nothing will happen to him or his stupid club.”
“You love that club,” my mother points out referencing our many conversations about my job tending bar there and most recently about the amazing man that owns it.
“That’s before I knew.”
“Knew what exactly?” my dad asks.
“How irresponsible he is. How careless. I mean, I guess I knew, but I never let myself think about it. I am so sorry. I would have never gotten involved with him if I…”
“Chloe, stop,” my mother says. Her voice is raised and her tone is stern. “Griffin isn’t to blame for what happened to Sierra. No more than you or I.”
“Didn’t you tell us how proud you were to work there? About all the precautions that Griffin takes to ensure his customer’s safety?” my father reminds me.