by L. M. Reid
“Yeah, well, had he not been hitting on whatever random women he was trying to get in bed that night, Sierra might still be here. If he paid the slightest bit of attention to what goes on in that club, everything might be different.”
“Chloe, from what you’ve said, Griffin goes above and beyond,” my mother says
Their rationale, no matter how sound it is, infuriates me. “He admitted it to me. He knows it’s his fault.”
My dad shakes his head, “That’s his guilt talking. Guilt that has more to do with hurting you than it does anything else. Honey, I know all of this has been hard on you, but you can’t take it out on Griffin. He’s doing everything he can to support you.”
“I don’t need him,” I argue. “I don’t need anyone.”
No one except Sierra. And, she’s not here.
I stand up from the stool and begin to walk out of the bar.
“Chloe, where are you going?” my mom asks.
“Anywhere but here.”
I begin walking through my hometown, down the road that leads to the cemetery. I find myself at Sierra’s grave. It’s surrounded by flowers, tokens from all those that loved her.
I settle myself onto the grass next to her grave, my fingers picking at the grass that covers her.
“God, Si, this is such a mess. I don’t know what to do, how not to be so angry. I thought I was okay for a little while, mostly thanks to Griffin. But, now? He’s part of the problem. The one place that I felt safe and secure, is gone. I don’t know where else to go. I need you.”
I know she can hear me, wherever she is. I just wish she could answer. Still, I talk to her. I tell her how much I miss her, how angry I am at Griffin, how much I want the guy who hit her to pay.
The more I talk, the more irrational I sound, even to myself.
I blamed Griffin for everything. I took the anger that should be directed at the driver and took it out on him. I swore there had to have been something he could have done. Something, anything. When in reality, there wasn’t. There wasn’t anything he could have done. Griffin had every option available for a safe ride home. It was Finn who made the decision to hand out the keys. Griffin can lead his employees, but he can’t watch every single one of them all the time. And, it was Brian Davis who decided to drive the car. Griffin couldn’t control either of the decisions.
Bile rises in my throat as I think about the awful things I said to him. The look on his face, the hurt in his eyes.
“Oh, God, Si. The things I said to him.” My body is racked with yet another round of sobs. Tears falling, when I didn’t think I could produce anymore. I had cried the entire way here, then in my mother’s arms at the bar. Yet, here I am, a never ending fountain of tears and pain.
“I just miss you so damn much. I hate everything, every single thing that led to you being taken away from me. It’s not fair.”
Just like it’s not fair that I put the blame on Griffin, the things that I said to him that were so awful and meant to intentionally hurt him. That wasn’t fair either.
I need to fix this; I need to fix it now. I close my eyes, fighting back the tears, trying to compose myself. I need to call him; I need to make things right.
Dialing his number, I tightly grip the phone in my hand. It rings. And continues to do so until his voicemail picks up. I hang up and try again. Still no answer. Shit. I try again and again. He’s not busy and even if he were, he’d answer for me. Unless of course he’s trying to avoid me because let’s face it, after how I acted, I deserve it.
Making my way back to the bar, I continue to try him. At least a dozen missed calls are showing on his phone at the moment. I can see him looking at the screen with the same look he gets on his face when his father calls before swiping left and deleting any record of them.
As much as I want to fix it now, it’s better if I do it in person. He deserves to see me grovel and beg for his forgiveness. My misdirected anger toward him was unacceptable and certainly warrants more than some over the phone policy.
“Where were you?” my mother’s concerned voice asks when I walk back into Andy’s.
“I went to see Sierra,” I tell them as I take a seat at the now empty bar. “Then I tried to call Griffin.” I rest my head in my hands. “I am such an idiot. Why the hell did I blame him?”
“It’s always easier to direct our anger at someone we love, someone close,” my dad says.
He’s right. Griffin was there, Brian is now. I can take my anger out on Griffin, use him as a punching bag. When it comes to Brian, all I can do is hope that the court finds him guilty. I can’t get the cathartic release like I do being angry with Griffin, whether it’s rational or not.
“I hurt him so badly. I wish I could take it all back.” The look on his face as I yelled at him haunts me. Hurt, pain, and regret filled his handsome face. A sullen look replaced his usual smirk.
“He loves you,” my mom says. “He’ll forgive you.”
Will he though?
After everything he went through with June, Griffin has a hard time trusting people. Right now, I’m just another female employee that hurt him. Even if it wasn’t my intention.
My mom gives me a squeeze. “It will all work out. You’ll see.”
“Can I stay here tonight?” I ask.
“Is that even a question?” my mom says with a laugh. “I already have your favorite dinner cooking.”
This is what I needed. I should have come straight here. I should have mourned and celebrated with my parents. I should have allowed my anger to settle and my head to clear before talking to Griffin.
It’s too late for that now, but I can at least enjoy the rest of the night with them. We talk about Sierra, laughing at the good memories, crying at the sad. Time has lessened the ache somewhat and for the first time, as a family, we’re able to celebrate her.
“To Sierra,” we toast a shot of her favorite tequila.
I offer to help my dad close up the bar and he happily accepts. I note the differences between the Andy’s and Lust and believe me they are significant. Still, they are very much the same. They are the lifeblood of their owners. The amount of heart and soul, the blood, sweat, and tears that went into both of them is astounding. I always knew what this place meant to my dad, and while I might have misjudged Griffin at the start, as time went on it was clear to see how much he loved Lust and just how hard he would work to make it a success.
I pick up the phone again. I’ve resolved to the fact that he isn’t going to answer. I need to hear his voice though, something to help soothe the ache that I feel.
When he doesn’t answer, what I counted to be my twentieth call, I decide to reach out to Gabe. It’s the middle of the night, but I’m certain he will be awake.
“This is Gabe,” he says answering the phone on the first ring.
His upbeat tone is a clear indication that he didn’t check to see who was calling before he answered.
“Hey, Gabe, it’s Chloe.” The line goes silent. “I uh… have you heard from Griffin.”
“Yeah.”
“Is he with you?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
“Don’t know.”
This conversation is going nowhere fast. “Please Gabe, help me out here. He won’t answer my calls, he…”
“Can you really blame him Chloe? He told me what you said, why you think it’s his fault. Do you blame me too? Because you sure as hell should. Griffin wasn’t even here that night. I was.”
“I don’t blame you, Gabe,” I say softly.
“Because I don’t fuck customers like Griffin does?” I hate the anger I hear in his voice. Gabe is the one that believed in me, gave me a chance when he really shouldn’t have. He’s my friend and hearing him talk to me like this hurt. Which I can only imagine is a fraction of what Griffin must be feeling.
“I was upset, I didn’t mean it.”
“I sure as hell hope not, Chloe. He’s a fucking mess. He felt guilty enough on hi
s own, but what you said, it pushed him over the edge.”
I think of Griffin, what happened to his mother, the things I said to him. “Is he okay?”
“No, Chloe. He isn’t. But, he will be.”
My heart sinks. “Is he alone?”
Gabe doesn’t answer the question. “I have to go,” he tells me and hangs up the phone.
I sink down into the mattress pulling the cover high up under my chin. I have no right to be upset. I walked away, I ended things. If anything, I am the one that pushed him into the arms of another woman.
Even knowing that though, I wonder…
Can I forgive him for falling into her though?
Can I put it behind me so that we can move on?
32
Chloe
It was a long restless night, most of which I spent crying into my pillow. The remnants of my mascara streaked across it as I pull the sheets from the bed to toss into the machine.
“Any luck?” my mom asks as I walk into the kitchen and pour a cup of coffee.
I shake my head. “No, he won’t answer.” I won’t tell her why I think it is that he’s not answering. Saying it out loud will only make it feel more real and I’m not quite sure I can handle that right now.
I grab one of her homemade chocolate chip muffins from the counter and sit at the table. “I don’t blame him. The things I said,” I shake my head. “I was so terrible to him Mom, when all he has ever done was try to help me.”
I think back to the night I first saw him. Clearly, he was attractive. One would have to be a fool to not think so. He was also smug and cocky. He was rich and entitled and trying to help a poor girl make less of a fool of herself which means that he was also kind and considerate. At least he was until he dropped me on my ass. Still, whatever he was that night, it was because he was trying to help me. To save me from myself.
“Don’t you think you should be telling him that,” she says as she looks over her glasses at me.
I nod. “I know, I will. I just…”
“You’re scared.”
“Terrified. What if… what if I lost him already?”
“Every relationship has its ups and downs kiddo. You think your dad and I didn’t go through the same kind of thing? When we first started dating, we got into this huge fight. I yelled at him, broke up with him. It was awful.”
“That’s… helpful.”
“The point is,” she says as she playfully slaps my arm. “We obviously worked it out. And all these years later, I couldn’t even tell you what we were so angry about. What I do remember is how we made up, how we promised we would never fight like that again.”
“Did you?” I ask. “Did you ever fight like that again?” I try to recall my parents fighting as I grew up, but nothing major sticks out.
“Oh, God, yes,” she laughs. “We still fight. But, at the end of the day, we also know that no matter what, we’ll work it out. That’s what you do when you really love someone. And from what I can see – you and Griffin really love each other.”
We do. Or, at least, we did. But sometimes there are just certain things you can’t get over, things you can’t take back no matter how much you wish you could.
“Go, see him. Tell him you love him and that you’re sorry.”
I plan to. The question is, will it be enough?
33
Griffin
My eyes are squeezed shut but the light coming in from the windows is still blinding. My head hurts too damn much to lift from the pillow, my arms too weak to move the comforter. I lie here, suffering and in pain. It’s what I deserve anyway.
I’m the reason that Sierra’s dead. I did this. Me and my inability to control my own fucking business.
Fucking Finn. The piece of shit tried playing dumb with a bullshit lie about not realizing the guy was drunk. Come on, seriously? He fucking blew three times the legal limit. And yet somehow he supposedly had no clue? Fuck him for trying to save his own skin.
Me on the other hand, I turned myself in. After my argument with Chloe I went down to the police station to talk to Detective Valente. I told him that the accident was my fault, that it was my club the guy was at and that I too should be held responsible.
The fucker laughed at me. Said he had never seen anyone stupid enough to turn themselves in for something they didn’t do. They had the man responsible, and I wasn’t it. Then despite the disdain he walked into my office with, he commended me.
“The efforts you take to ensure the safety of your customers is far beyond anything I have ever seen. Mr. Hayes, you are the last person who is responsible for Ms. Scott’s death.”
The guilt was still eating at me. Feeling as though I still had not suffered enough, I went to see my father. That did the trick. Not only did he tell me how stupid I am, he threatened to shut down the club. Lucky for me since the police aren’t holding the club accountable, there isn’t much he can do. To further my punishment, I told Gabe about my conversation with my dad which earned me a whole new set of torture.
When he was finally done yelling at me for trying to self-destruct, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and we started pounding it. Okay, I started pounding it while he watched me. Then his phone rang. I could tell by the change in his voice exactly who was on the other end of the call. Chloe.
After the fifth time she called me, I shut my phone off. I already knew what she had to say. I couldn’t bear to hear it again. I hated hearing him make her feel bad for blaming me when I fully believe I deserve her wrath. I was in no position to stop him though. The whiskey hit me – hard.
That’s all I remember. After hearing Chloe’s voice through the phone, everything went black.
The pounding in my head is getting louder. So loud that it almost sounds like it’s reverberating through the whole house. I groan, realizing that it is. The pounding isn’t in my hungover head. It’s the fucking door.
I roll out of bed, manage to pull a pair of shorts on and stumble my way downstairs.
“What?” I snap as I yank the door open.
I fully expect it to be Gabe on the other side, ready to fucking make me pay just a little bit more. It’s not Gabe’s eyes that are looking back at me though, it’s Chloe’s.
“What are you doing here?” I ask regretting that I opened the door without looking. In my own defense though, I needed that pounding to stop.
“We need to talk,” she says.
I open the door and allow her in. Any self-respecting man would have done the opposite – told her to leave, that there was nothing else to say. All things considered; I don’t have much respect for myself left. If Chloe needs to do this though to move on, to accept her sister’s death, then I’ll take it. It was tearing me to fucking shreds, but for her, I’ll endure it.
“Are you alone?” she asks glancing at the stairs, then back to me.
The knife twists just a little more. “Yes.”
She glances at the stairs then back to me. “Go ahead, go up and check.” I plop down on the couch. If I’m going to have to listen to her yell at me, I may as well be comfortable. “Though, I’m not sure why you care.”
“Of course I care,” she says softly. “I love you, Griffin.”
Love. What a bullshit concept. I resist the urge to scoff at her comment. I’m willing to take what she has to give, but I am not about to take the bait and start something I have no interest in fighting.
“Griffin, look at me please.” I turn my head to her, my bloodshot eyes barely able to stay open do to the massive headache I am nursing. “I’m sorry.”
She’s sorry? What does she have to be sorry about? I’m the one that killed her sister.
“Did you hear me?” she asks.
“Yep.”
She sits next to me, her leg bent underneath her. “The things I said to you – I didn’t mean them. They aren’t true. What happened to Sierra was a terrible accident. One that you couldn’t have prevented.”
I just stare at her, unsure whether or not I
’m willing to accept her apology. She has every right to her anger, every right to express it to me. But if that’s what she really thinks of me. If she truly believes I am that kind of man, this is a waste of my time.
I tried. I gave it a shot with her because she just seemed… different. But, now…
Now, I’m not so sure that it’s worth the trouble. Love, it’s never been my thing and both times I have tried it, it’s went down in flames.
“Say something. Anything,” she pleads with me.
“I don’t want your apology. I just want you to leave.”
“You don’t mean that,” she argues.
With no emotion I say, “Yes, I do.”
“What I said to you…”
“Was true, Chloe.” Standing from the couch I make my way to the windows and stare out them. I can’t look at her. “I tried, for you. I tried to be a better man than I actually am. But I failed. I failed Sierra, I failed you. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of being something that I’m not.”
“You are a wonderful man, Griffin.”
I scoff at her statement. “I’m not. I pretended to be, but I wasn’t even good at doing that. It’s better if we just end this now before I make it even worse.”
Her hand rests on my back and I move from her touch. If I’m going to be able to go through with this, I can’t be near her. One look and I will be taking it all back.
“If that were true, then there would be a woman upstairs. Someone for you to drown your dick in, but there isn’t.”
“How do you know that there wasn’t though? Hmm?” I let a low, angry chuckle escape. “I mean, really Chloe, do you think that I spend a night alone? Ever?”
“Yeah, I do. A lot of them. Because you won’t let anyone in. But, you let me in Griffin. And I know that I broke that trust with the hurtful things I said, but…”
“You didn’t hurt me,” I shout at her. “You can’t hurt me because I don’t care. Not about you, not about anyone.”
The last piece of my punishment. I don’t deserve Chloe. Really, I never did, but I allowed myself to feel worthy just for a little while. Knowing what I did, though, I know for certain now that I don’t deserve her or her love. I deserve to lose it, for her to hate me. I can’t bring her sister back, but I can spare her any further pain at my hand.