Page 23 of Another Round
“I miss my son.”
Fuck. I meant to say I like her being here right now. I really am drunk.
“How old was he when he died?”
When she killed him. “Eight months.”
“So young.”
So innocent. An angel on Earth and now in heaven.
“She must have really been hurting not to realize you would help her and take care of her no matter what.”
I nod from her broken tone. Just as confused as she is. But I’m sad and angry and stupid too. “Fuck yes I would have. Why didn’t she see it? Why didn’t she know?”
“I don’t know because it’s totally obvious that’s the kind of man you are.”
Something that sounds like admiration strains in her voice. That first day she admitted she knows who I am and what I do—did—and still thinks I’m a nice guy. A good guy. A decent guy. Crazy. “No trouble. I’m not.”
“Yes you are. You’re always—”
“I’m mad at her. It’s wrong and terrible and shitty but I am so fucking mad at her. And a good man wouldn’t be mad. A good man would know she was sick and out of her head and forgive her. A good man wouldn’t hate her for killing my son. For murdering her own damn son.”
Suddenly, she’s in my lap. Her legs on my thigh and her arms around my torso. Her face tucked into my neck. Hugging me. Holding me so tight. “Thanks love but I don’t think…This isn’t… You shouldn’t…”
I can’t get the words out. Not only because I’m wasted but because I don’t believe them. This is a good idea. She is what I want. She should stay tonight and forever. I give up the battle with my demons and wrap my arms around her too.
“I don’t want to be by myself tonight.”
The whispered admission blows against my throat. I’m just as honest with her. “Me neither.”
Another nod before she cuddles back in. I hold her. Breathing in her sultry scent. Welcoming her hands stroking my hair. Relishing her small body warming mine.
I want to explore her skin. Trace her delicate bones. Feel her heartbeat under my hands. I do none of those things. I just am with her. Silent. Still. Serene.
Until I succumb to the darkness I can’t fight anymore.
Fuck.
I slowly lift my pounding head from the back of the couch. Swearing from the agony shooting up my spine all the way to my scalp. Hangovers and neck cramps are a hell of a welcome to wake up to. While a slew of shitty texts from Nick is even worse.
Nick:Why haven’t I heard from you?
Nick:Why did I have to call my daughter last night to confirm she’s okay?
Nick:I fucking expect an update from you at least twice a day like we agreed. What the fuck’s going on?
Andy:Overslept. Won’t happen again.
Nick:You know what will happen if it does.
He’s going to fucking kill me anyway. Missing a few messages is the least of my crimes when it comes to his daughter. I toss my mobile back on the table and blink through the blurriness. My bottle is gone. My box is gone. Any semblance of my integrity is gone. Worst of all, she’s gone. So I ignore the nausea spinning in my stomach and grab my laptop, pulling her up on the screen again because I’m desperate to see the only good thing in my life.
I relax a little when she comes into view.
She’s so damn beautiful.
And luckily for me obedient.
