Page 20 of Wasted Memories
“Jett’s okay."
“Why wouldn’t he be okay?” I asked.
I could hear her inhale deeply before speaking again. “He got in a fight at the bar. The other guy is fine, but you should probably come get him. He’s harassing Craig for more drinks but he cut him off.”
“What? Why’d he get in a fight? I can be there in a few minutes; just tell him I’m coming.” I was already grabbing my shoes before she could respond.
“Do you really want to know why?”
Honestly, I didn't. "I’ll be there in five.” I headed back out the door as I hung up the phone.
***
I put the truck in park outside the bar, pulling the keys out of the ignition. I didn’t get out right away, needing a moment. I leaned my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I savored the silence, not knowing what I’d be walking into.
Jett was drunk more often than he was sober, but the bigger issue was that he didn’t want to admit he was an alcoholic.
He didn’t open up much about his past with anyone, including me, but what little I did know was that his mother was an alcoholic as well. She was rarely home, so Jett practically raised himself. She was often too intoxicated to play the role of a mother.
It took a toll on him growing up, especially because his dad wasn’t around either. When his dad was home, which was rare, things would get ugly. Last I heard, Felix was in prison. I just couldn’t wrap my head around why Jett would continuously drink this much when he knew how his mothers drinking had affected those around her.
Figuring I should get in there, I forced myself out of the truck. As soon as I opened the driver door, I could hear Jett’s voice carrying through the small parking lot from inside the bar. I made my way inside to find him standing at the bar, hands gripping the edge, with Brendt by his side. Brendt seemed to be on high alert, keeping a close eye on Jett but doing his best to act nonchalant about it.
Stella mouthed “I’m sorry” from where she was sitting at a high top table by the pool tables. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. It wasn’t her fault Jett was being an idiot. Come to think of it, it wasn’t mine either, but here I was.
My gaze caught on the man standing casually beside one of the pool tables, one end of the cue resting on the ground between his legs. Wesley had his eyes trained on me instead of the game in front of him, where his opponent was waiting for him to make a move.
I chewed on the inside of my lip. Showing up to practically drag Jett out of here was not something I wanted Wesley to see. It made me look like a fool for putting up with this. But Jett was my boyfriend, and I’d stick by his side and be there when he needed me.
Pulling my attention away from Wesley, I walked up behind Jett and said his name, trying to get his attention. Brendt was standing a few feet from Jett and even he could hear me.
Jett was too busy practically yelling at Craig for another drink to pay any mind to me, so I placed my palm against his shoulder blade. Before I could blink, Jett spun around, nearly knocking me off my feet. I took a small step back to get my balance.
A cue fell to the floor somewhere behind me at the same time a chair scraped across the ground. I glanced behind me to find that Stella was now standing, Wesley next to her looking ready to murder someone. I really didn’t need another fight on Jett’s hands tonight.
I turned back to Jett and noticed his busted lip from the fight. “Let’s go home, baby. You need some rest.” I put my hand out for him to take it.
“I’m not leaving. We were just getting started, but Craig here won’t give me a damn whiskey and coke.” He threw his arm in the air toward Craig for emphasis, grazing the back of my outstretched hand. The pungent smell of whiskey on Jett’s breath made my nose scrunch on instinct.
“I think you’ve had enough, honey.” I had to keep my voice calm, because if I didn’t, he’d just revolt to try to prove some stupid point.
His eyes locked on mine, fire spreading through them. “I decide when I’ve had enough. Not Craig, and definitely not you.”
I felt my neck heat, the embarrassment of Jett refusing to be mature and know his limits creeping up on me. I wasn’t sure I could convince him to leave. Hell, I didn't think anyone could. Not when he got like this.
Brendt held a glass of water out to Jett, grabbing his bicep to turn him. “Man, we’re all drunk. Drink some water and let Em take you home, otherwise you’re going to be sleeping on the curb.”
Jett shrugged him off, turning his back to me so he could continue harassing Craig. I took a deep breath, trying to keep the frustration at bay.
I lightly set my hand on Jett’s arm, my fingertips grazing his warm skin as I trailed to his hand.
“Please be the man I need you to be right now. Don't let the alcohol consume-” Jett whirled on me, and I felt the sting before I could finish my sentence. I stumbled back a step, bringing my hand to my cheek to try to ease the burn of his hand colliding with my skin.
Wesley was there in an instant, grabbing Jett by the collar of his shirt and slamming him into the wall. Brendt stayed by me, holding onto my arm like he was steadying me.
In the next second, Stella was beside me, guiding me to a barstool. I was too stunned to sit down as I watched Wesley pin Jett face first against the wall, his arm cocked behind him at an awkward angle.
My fingers brushed my cheek and I winced. My cheek fuckingstung.
