Page 215 of Unhinged

Amos asks, “What are you doing?”

“Hotel. I mean, I don’t know if Kleo has a roommate. Now we can be alone.”

Crossing his arms, Amos pleads, “Greg, you can’t do this tonight.”

“I’m positive I’ll get it up, if that’s what you’re worried about, perv.” I’m positive I’ll be drinking until I forget everything.

“It most certainly is not.”

I shove my phone back into my ass pocket and then pull off my wedding ring. “I guess I won’t need that shit anymore.” I flip it in the air, and Amos catches it before it bounces off the counter. I laugh. “It’s like I’m free of the shackles.”

Amos shoves it into his pocket and quietly says, “You and Simone love each other. This can’t be over. Don’t let it be.”

“I tried! Why in the hell do I want to be with someone who doesn’t want me?” My voice breaks, and I clear my throat. “She never really wanted me. Shit, I’m such a stooge.”

“You’re not.”

“Fuck this.”

I return to the bar as Amos yells after me. She’s moved on, and so will I. Heading to the jukebox, I play Mr. Brightside by The Killers and then Nine Inch Nails’ The Hand That Feeds. Feel-good songs.

When I go behind the bar, Harold scoffs, “Jesus, Rodwell. You can’t stay in one place. I’m doing all the work out here while you’re back there jerking it.”

I squeeze my hand to maintain my buoyancy. “Just making the rounds.”

“Hi there,” a voice says from the end of the bar. I look to see Kleo sitting down with a big smile. My stomach aches, but I hand Damian another bottle of Bud and walk over to her with an unfeeling grin.

“That was fast.”

“I was only down the road at my brother’s apartment.” I notice her floral shirt and minimal makeup. She’s not bad-looking at all, but I’m not attracted to her as much as I had thought. She’s the type I’d fix up for a friend if I had any.

“Oh. Do you want a drink? I mean, you’re here.”

She laughs. “Um, sure. Surprise me.”

I go to the cooler, remove a Bud, and hand it to her. Zero points for creativity tonight.

“Thanks.” Kleo smiles, and it’s pretty, but it hurts to notice that.

“I’m confused about why you want me here. You said you got married. I asked you that in the text earlier, but you only said she’s gone.”

I wave my hand. “Yep. She left. So, false alarm marriage. Turns out I wasn’t that into her.”

Kleo’s smile is uncertain before she sips her beer. As I check for refills, Harold hooks my arm and pulls me away. “What the hell is going on with you? I just heard you with that broad. You’re married, Rodwell.”

I shrug him off. “Then you heard me say I’m not anymore.”

“Whaaaat?”

I roll my eyes and walk away. On the way back to Kleo, I grab a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. I pour them and shove one toward her. I hold up my shot glass and announce, “To new beginnings.” Before she can grab her glass, I down mine.

She asks, “No salt and lime?”

“Those are for pussies,” I choke out, making her laugh.

“I really can’t drink tequila. It’s gross.”

I shrug. “Okay.” I down hers and slam the glass on the counter. “What do ya want, then?”

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