Page 49 of Tangling Hearts

Chapter Thirty-Three

Brendan

Drunk Drunk Drunk Drunk Drunk

The lights are on in her place. She hasn’t left for work yet. I don’t know what I want to say to her, but I drove over here when I was aiming for home. I’ve been at different bars since one o’clock and Tommy’s been good enough to keep me company. He even stopped me from fighting a guy I knocked into on my way out of the last place. I wish he hadn’t. I would’ve enjoyed a fight. I need somewhere to put this fury. I’m pissed at her, but I’m way more angry at myself because I want to see her so badly, it’s fucking killing me. Not even what Tommy said about her and how she was back then, has made me feel like it’s over.

Can’t we just get past this?

Fuck. What’s wrong with me? I need to walk away! I know this. How can I trust a liar? But I can’t walk away. When I tried, it just brought me here. I yank my phone from my pocket and stare at it. Should I call her and tell her to buzz me in? My head jerks up to see one of her neighbors walking out with his head down in his phone like most of America, and just like me.

“Hold the door!” I yell, running up the short staircase, my head swimming from the booze and the endorphins. Startled, the guy looks up at me, unsure of what to do. But I’ve already passed him and am halfway in the door. “Thanks,” I say, and shut it on his face.

Pacing in front of her door and mumbling a mantra, I try to talk myself into leaving. “She’s just a woman just like any other woman. I’ll get over this. She’s just a woman just like any other woman. I can live without her.”

The second I hear myself say that, my chest feels like it’s going to disappear.

Fuck. I ball my hand into a fist and knock on the door. Hard.

Footsteps inside.

Deadbolt unlocked.

Doorknob turning.

Her ex opens the door wearing only a towel around his waist with water dripping down his chest, his hair in wet chunks falling over a deep, protective frown. He locks eyes with me.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I spit, pushing him aside. “ANNIE!”

I hear him close the door behind me as I vault into the bathroom, expecting to see her wet and showered, too, spent from the hard fucking he just gave her. I look around the small room, the window and mirror both fogged, and pull back the shower curtain to see if she’s hiding. There’s nothing there but bath soap and hair crap. Flying out of the bathroom, I launch myself into her bedroom, next. She’s not there, but her bed is unmade and the blankets are all screwed up. I stare at it, seeing instantly them fucking like animals. I flip around to confront the bastard.

He’s waiting for me in the living room, arms crossed, bare feet spread wide in a power stance. This guy has to be fifteen years older than Annie at least. What the fuck?

“Where is she? And what the fuck are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m here because Annie asked me to be here.”

I glare at him in shock. “What?!!” Raking my fingers through my hair, I pace again, the couch between us, but I’m considering flying over it to punch him in the face. “Women are fucking evil!”

“You are drunk. Let me get you espresso.”

“You Italian fuck, I don’t want your Italian fuck coffee.”

He stops walking and raises that stupid, calm eyebrow again, regarding me from the side. “So you are Brendan. This surprises me.”

Pride hits me hard as I realize I must look like a child to this guy. I grit my teeth to hold back anything I might say that would sound immature, and hold my arm in the direction of the kitchen. “Fine.”

He sucks on his cheek and heads there. Following him, I glance over to Jaco who’s back on the shelf. I go to cross my arms, but the stitches still have another week to come out and I have to adjust, so I shove my hands into my pockets and lean against a wall to watch the bastard make me a coffee. He’s about the same size as me. I could take him. I watch him make the espresso in silence, the muscles of his arms making me angry because I keep seeing them around my Annie. He hands me the cup and I take it with a growl. “She asked you to be here.”

He regards me for a few beats. “She did. I could have stayed in a hotel.”

My teeth grit. “You’re her ex. Or was that a lie, too?”

Both his eyebrows rise this time. “A lie, too?”

“Did you fuck her?”

A frown creases his forehead and he turns away to clean the espresso machine as he talks. “I’ve come here to win her back.” He glances my way once, then continues slowly cleaning. “And I can see you are what I thought you would be.”

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