Page 45 of Four Times Forever

"Or they might kick us off their doorstep. What then, huh?" Ethan fired back.

"Eric's parents wouldn't do..." Matt's words were cut off by Eric storming out of the room.

"Wait, where are you going?" Ethan ran after him.

We all piled out of the room, following him downstairs. Air filtered back into my lungs at the same time they began constricting.

"Eric. Wait. Come back. Think about this..." Ethan was muttering under his breath as he caught up to him, but he was shrugged off.

Eric pulled open the door and rushed out back. The end of this fucking mental roller coaster was near.

Chapter 35

Ryan

"There you are! You took your time, didn't you? Where are the beers?" Eric's father's face was a picture of pride amongst his friends. But his gray hair turned whiter at Eric's reddened skin and shaking fingers. I held my breath and approached Eric, patting him on the back and encouraging him to make the leap of bravery that I hadn't dared to attempt. He shrugged me off, jaw tense, mouth set in a straight line. Beside me, Matt and Ethan were as rigid as brick walls. The tension pouring off of them was palpable.

Mr. Fletcher jumped to his feet and excused himself from his friends. He took Eric by the arm and pulled him aside. "Don't lie to me again, boy. I can see you're stressed to the tits about something. What is it?"

I gulped. My heartbeat was too heavy for my chest and it rushed to my throat. Come on, Eric. You can do this. Say it.

Eric took a deep breath. He looked at his father and looked away. I wanted to open his mouth and pull the fucking words out for him.

"It's..." Eric started and shook his head. Foreboding crept upon me. Eric defaulted to a heavy sigh. "It's the wedding."

Fuck. I could grab him and shake him. Flip all these fucking folding chairs over with Mr. Fletcher's friends sitting on them.

"We just got into an argument about the wedding. It's hard sharing a woman." Eric ran his hand through his hair, tugged on it and gave it a shake. Oh, I could wring his neck. So fucking close. Such a fucking coward.

"Oh." Mr. Fletcher put his hands on his hips and his shoulders slouched. "Well, I can't say I have much experience in that. I don't know how you do it. How does that work exactly?"

Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.

"I can't fucking do this." I grunted and stomped my feet as hard into the sand as I could, pushing them forward to get me the fuck out of there.

I heard Matt say, "Excuse me." He caught up to me.

I did not fucking need this. I needed a moment to breathe. If he didn't fucking leave me alone right now, I didn't know what I was going to do.

"Ryan, wait." Matt called out.

I walked faster. My mind was already inside Eric's bedroom door, grabbing the beer he left behind. No one was getting in the way of me and my scarce moment of peace. Matt caught up to me, damn it. He put his hand on my shoulder and I swear, it was like lighting a match and teasing a fucking bomb.

"Not now, Matt." I warned.

But he was persistent.

"Look, I know it's hard. But you don't have to go off on your own. If you need to talk, I'm right..." He was chatting.

"I don't need to TALK, Matt. I need to breathe! I need a moment alone to breathe. Can I have that?" I wheeled around, on the precipice of something.

"You know I can't leave you alone. Not when you're in..." Matt was reasoning.

Something about him telling me, no, and taking ownership of my space that I'd like, for myself, had me snapping. That, and the fact that I wanted that beer and if I wanted it, I was going to have it, damn it. No one was going to tell me what I could or couldn't have. I was a grown fucking man. I was going through a lot and I didn't know how much longer we had until some pissed off gangster came hunting for my skin when they found out that I was the one that stuck the knife into his son's neck. So, I was going to have a fucking damn beer. Because I deserved it.

By the time I realized what I'd done, Matt was flat on his back, unconscious and my knuckles were throbbing. Torn between waking him up to apologize and taking advantage of my freedom, I took off running toward the house. I didn't stop running until I was in the room, standing face to face with the thing that was going to help me forget.

I grabbed the case of beer, staggering out the doorway as an ache ran through my chest and twisted my belly up. I punched Matt. Fuck. I blacked out and punched him, for this. Disgust and shame encouraged me further down the dark pit in which I'd fallen and I tucked the beer beneath my arm and hurried out the front door, as far away from the house as I could get.

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