Page 56 of Tormented Bastard
Drunk Confessions
Chase
“Give me another, Al.”
Al raised a bushy gray brow and leaned on the bar, the requisite bartender towel draped over his shoulder. “How you gettin’ home, Hanover?”
I glared at him and dug my keys out of my pocket, tossing them on the bar. They clattered loudly on the well-worn, wood bar. “There? Happy? Now, give me another Jameson. Double this time. And another beer.”
“I’ll get you a ride.” Al swiped my keys, not bothered by my little temper tantrum.
“Whatever. Where’s my drink?”
Al shook his head and turned to get my whiskey. I was a grumpy bastard most of the time, without having the reasons I did tonight. Tonight, I was just a straight up prick, even to Al, whom I was nice to most of the time.
I’d been a surly shithead to every soul unfortunate enough to cross my path since Eden left. It had been two days since she walked out. But this time, I’d been the one that pushed her away. The motherfucking hurt hadn’t ebbed. I spent the first day inside a bottle at home. Linda had shown up, ready to clean up and do the job I paid her for. But when she tried to straighten the room Eden had stayed in for all of one night, I yelled at her not to touch a fucking thing and sent her home. I also didn’t let Linda near my room. I wasn’t ready for the scent of Eden to be cleared away. It was all I had left.
It was all I deserved.
I woke up this morning, hung over like a motherfucker and feeling ashamed for yelling at Linda. I sent her a text, apologizing and giving her another week off with pay. She forgave me, thank God, but I could read her concern between the lines of her messages. I didn’t deserve her concern. I just needed time to work Eden out of my system.
I dressed and made my sorry ass get out of the house. I had a life to live, phone calls to make to the insurance company, a new truck to buy. I stopped at the local funeral home and paid the tab for Stan’s funeral, then went to the florist and sent a large arrangement to Stan’s family. The accident might have been his fault, but it had been just that, an accident. The family had lost their husband, father, brother. This time, my losses had been superficial. Stan had sunk every dime they had into his shop, and while he did a good business, I also knew the family didn’t have much in the way of extra money to pay for a funeral. And life insurance took forever to come through. It was a fact I knew well.
I drove around, surveying the damage on the island, checking on my properties, and lending a hand where it was needed. Anything to keep me busy, away from the house, and thinking abouther. I’d worked so hard to build a fortress around myself, and Eden had waltzed in, in her four-hundred-dollar heels, and torn the walls down in just seventy-two hours. Everywhere I looked in my house I was reminded of her.
Shit, I might have to move.
When I’d done all I could, I’d ended up here at Al’s, ready to drink the thoughts away again. I hadn’t given thought to how I’d get home since I didn’t want to go home anyway.
Al placed a double shot and beer in front of me with a click on the wood. I tossed the whiskey back and hissed at the burn. It landed in my belly alongside the other shots I’d had, but I was beginning to get to the point that I no longer felt the warmth spread like I had from the first few.
How many had I had? I tried to count on my fingers, but I kept losing count when I got to three and having to start over.
“You’re on number five.” A clap on my shoulder accompanied the accented information.
“Where’d the hell you come from? The wall?”
“Al called me to give you a ride.” Chance slid onto the stool next to me and nodded at Al. “Just a Coke for me.”
“Give me a ride, I don’t need a fucking ride,” I muttered under my breath. “What I need is a lobotomy.” I squinted over at him when Al slid the soda in front of Chance. “You come to a bar to get a Coke?”
He shrugged. “Someone has to drive your sorry ass home.”
I shook my head. “Whatever, dude,” I grumbled, sipping my beer.
“So…want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay, that’s cool.” He sipped his soda. Christ, why the hell didn’t he drink a beer with me?
I squinted at him again. “You know what? I don’t like you.”
Chance just grinned. “That’s too bad. I’m pretty fond of your grumpy ass.”
“No, I mean it.” I swallowed another swig of beer and started back in on him. “You got it freaking all, man. You’ve got the beautiful wife, the adorable kids—who are just like you, I might add.”
“Much to my beautiful wife’s dismay.”
