Page 7 of Barrett

BARRETT

It was one of those days where I wished I could rewind it and find the person before they drove drunk to stop them from getting into the car.

Motor vehicle accidents could be rough, especially when they weren’t a fender bender. Take a twenty-two-year-old who thought drinking too much and getting behind the wheel was a good idea. It was a recipe for someone to lose their life.

Not the drunk driver. No, they killed a sixty-four-year-old man, who was on his way home from the store to buy his wife ice cream. She was recovering from surgery, and it was all she wanted. How did I know this? Because he was almost home, walking down the sidewalk, when the driver hopped the curb and hit him. His wife heard the accident and came downstairs to find her husband in the street, the force of the accident throwing him.

I had been driving down the street right after it happened, being one of the first on the scene. Once I got on the ground, I knew first aid wouldn’t save him. Nothing would. But I still tried because I had to. Because I couldn’t face the world knowing I didn’t at least do something to attempt to bring him back.

Some sounds I couldn’t forget, like her cries as she mourned the loss of the man she’d been married to for forty-three years, the tears she shed as she told me why he was out tonight.

The scene was cleared and everyone had left. A family's life was forever changed. A woman wouldn’t get to spend another night with the man she loved.

I couldn’t go home yet. I was off shift and wandering the streets of East Dremest. I had no uniform on—I didn’t wear one—so I looked like everyone else. Except I had a mixture of anger and sorrow on my face. I knew because of the looks I got when I passed people on the sidewalk.

Night had fallen, and I kept walking until I found a coffee shop that was open twenty-four seven. And wouldn’t I know, I walked right into the newest of Dexen Dremest’s coffee locations. Whatever. I just wanted to sit in a quiet corner with a warm drink, and hope to god something would quell the storm brewing in my head.

Once the oversized mug and chocolate chip muffin were placed in front of me, I wrapped my hands around the mug and held it up to my face, so I could inhale the scent of the brew and let the heat from it warm my cheeks. It wasn’t freezing out, but the scene today chilled me to my bones.

The café blurred around me. I didn’t bother to blink the tears away. Sometimes I had to let myself feel the pain, or it would continue to fester inside of me like a fucking ulcer no amount of medication could heal.

A tear slid down my cheek. It wasn’t for me. It was for the widow who had to break the news to her grown children that their father was gone. It was for the funeral she had to plan. The expenses she had to incur. The pain she was in, both physical and emotional.

Every day bad shit happened to good people, while the slime of this world rose up and did vile things. It wasn’t fair. Then again, life hadn’t been fair for as long as I could remember.

“Barrett?” I heard a deep voice ask.

Blinking a few times, more tears fell as I peered up into dark eyes that haunted my dreams.

Standing before me was the one man I would do anything for, yet he didn’t want a damn thing from me. He didn’t see me like I did him. He also didn’t know the first thing about my feelings. I kept them locked down in front of him, except for now, apparently.

“Reghan,” I greeted. He found me at a low point. I didn’t bother trying to mask my emotions. I also didn’t have it in me to give a solitary fuck.

Thick arms beneath an ivory Henley reached forward to pull out the chair across from me. Reghan sat, his body taking up the space the chair provided. He wasn’t a small man, nor was there an ounce of fat on him. Not that I knew from personal experience. It was a good guess, given the size of his arms and the way his thighs stretched the barrier of his jeans.

Jordan’s guards didn’t dress in suits like him, but they also didn’t protect him while wearing sweats. Since I didn’t see the mafia boss, I assumed Reghan wasn’t on the clock.

“What happened?” he asked.

Nothing about this felt right. Reghan shouldn’t look at me with concern. He should be threatening my life, telling me I shouldn’t be in here at the same time as him. Shouldn’t breathe the same air.

I shook my head and stood. I couldn’t do this. My facade was cracking. Reghan seeing it wouldn’t do me any good. Being vulnerable in front of him would knock me down multiple pegs on Jordan’s scale. I couldn’t afford for that to happen. The money had to keep rolling in.

“I was just finishing up,” I told Reghan and reached for my mug.

His hand pressed against my wrist. “You have a full cup, Bear. Sit down and finish it. If you really want to be away from me, I’ll leave.” His eyes held mine. There was hurt in them. I wasn't sure whether it was for me or because I rejected staying here with him. It made my stomach flip with the urge to soothe him. To tell him this had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me.

Wasn’t that the way it always was though? How many times was Reghan the one at my throat while I let him get so close he could lick my lips? I wasn’t the one who approached him. The ball wasn’t in my court. Not now, not ever. The thing was, I didn’t care. I would let Reghan do whatever he wanted to me.

On another day.

At another time.

Anywhere but fucking here.

“I’m not doing this with you,” I told him and shook off his hold, even though I wanted to keep it there.

“What? Being a fucking human?” He all but growled as he pushed his chair back and stood. His hands were planted on the table, and he leaned forward to get right in my face. “I get that you have to be thisI don’t care about anythingguy in front of others, but I thought I was… You know what, screw you.” He straightened and turned without another word. He was out the door seconds later, his legs eating up the distance he was putting between us.

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