Page 86 of Two Wrongs

Baby bird, please let me know you’re okay at least.

The last one hurts. I would want to know he was okay, and that’s the only reason I reply to him.

I’m still breathing. I can’t come back. It hurts too much. Just let me be. Please.

The three dots pop up on screen, disappear, then pop up again.

If it’s what you need, I’ll try.

A sob escapes my mouth. I’m so fucking sick of crying. I promise myself this will be the last time I will cry over anyone named Hale ever again.

Tears stream down my face at how easily he gave in. I asked him to, but stupidly I wanted him to put up a little bit of a fight.

Goodbye Griffin.

I shut off my phone again after sending Bess a text letting her know I stopped for the night, then roll over and soak my pillow one last time.

35

Griffin

“Wren isn’t working tonight,” Bess tells me the moment I stroll through the door of Donovan’s bar.

“I know, she’s back at my place.” I take a deep breath. “Have you seen Liam?”

Bess might have a name better suited to a prized cow, but she looks like a mischievous pixie, and a very brightly colored one at that. Her large turquoise eyes open wide at the mention of my son, and her hot pink painted lips pop open in a wide “O” as she shakes her head at my question.

Donovan steps up next to his Technicolor punk girlfriend, and drops his arm around her shoulders. “Why would we have seen Liam? Isn’t he in treatment?”

I shake my head. “He made a surprise visit to my house a little while ago.”

“But, Wren was there,” Bess says, still in shock.

I nod. “Let’s just say it didn’t go over well, and he drove off. I need to find him.”

“How is Wren?” Bess asks.

My instincts scream at me that I should be focusing on her more, but Liam needed me right now. “Shaken. The sooner I sort Liam out, the faster I can get to her and make sure she’s okay.”

Bess’s phone starts to ring, and she runs off to the office to take her call, leaving me alone with Donovan. “What do you want me to do if Liam comes in? Do I toss him out?” he asks me.

“No. Stall him if you can and call me,” I reply.

Bess hurries back into the bar, unties her apron, and slings a messenger bag over her head to cross her body. “I’m heading over to talk to Wren.”

Donovan crosses his arms. “You are, huh?”

She mimics his posture and the two try and stare each other down. “Fine,” he relents, “but you’re doing something for me in return.”

She winks at him. “Oh, you can bet your fine ass on that.”

A moment later she’s racing out the door. I blink. “I bet life with her isn’t dull.”

Donovan smiles, and I envy him how open and easy their relationship seems. “She certainly makes it interesting.”

He moves down the counter and serves a few of the regular customers. Men who used to run around with my father, and spend most of their old age camped out at the end of this bar pickling their livers like I imagine my father would be doing if he were still alive.

“Sad, isn’t it,” Donovan comments when he returns to me. “When I opened this place I thought it would be a constant party. It can be, but it can also be one of the most depressing jobs. Here I get a first row seat to watch men drink away their paychecks, and men like Liam throw away their marriages.”