Page 90 of Nightmare

Chapter Forty-Three

Travis

I’m holdingan ice pack on my fist, which has swollen almost double the normal size, and ignoring the tv that’s playing reruns on my living room wall.

My head is throbbing with unresolved anxiety and anger. I didn’t even get a chance to fucking tattoo anyone. I guess I did relieve some of my pent-up aggression – on Brody’s face.

But I need to do something else to get my blood to slow back to normal in my veins.

I stand, throwing the ice pack onto the coffee table as I head to the kitchen.

Pulling a glass from the cabinet, I pour an unhealthy amount of whiskey into it then press it to my lips – tipping it back, downing it in one swallow.

“Whoa,” Jax’s voice sounds behind me, “It’s like 4 o’clock dude.”

I turn my head to look at him, ignore him, then put my attention back to the empty glass, filling it a little bit higher this time.

I can already feel the warmth of the alcohol in my stomach, spreading and calming me. I take another mouthful as I turn, pushing past Jax. I plant my ass back on the sofa, laying the ice pack back on my knuckles.

I put my glass in between my legs to keep it steady, replace it in my hand with my phone and type out a message to Liv.

Me:I need you.

There’s only one other thing I can think of to relieve some of this pressure in my body, and it’s in between my girl’s legs.

I turn the screen off, throw my phone down on the sofa next to me, then look up at the episode ofIt’s Always Sunnythat’s playing to try to distract myself.

“Dude.” Jax says, bringing my attention to the fact that he’s standing about three feet from me.

“What, Jax?!” I grunt, flicking my uninterested gaze to him.

He crosses his arms over his chest, worry masking his features, “You’re losing it, man. You need to pull it the fuck together.”

I roll my eyes, turning my attention back to the tv, ignoring him. He sighs from where he’s standing, then moves to sit next to me.

“Travis.” He says, trying to get my attention. I swing my body around completely so he can see the rage in my eyes.

“Jaxson, if you don’t want me to fuck up your face, Leave. Me. Alone.” I respond, giving him one last warning to fuck off because he’s right, I’m about to lose it. And he’s the last person I want to lose it on.

I flex my fist, my skin pulling, splitting open again, and I groan with the movement. I take another long drink of my whiskey, finishing off the glass and stare at the wall above the tv, officially uninterested in what’s happening on the screen.

Jax settles back on the sofa, I press my lips together and inhale through my nose to try to mix some oxygen with my rage.

Leaning forward, I put my now empty glass on the table, picking up my phone to see if Olivia has responded.

She hasn’t.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I need something. Anything.

I throw my phone down again and crack my neck, my hand reaching up to put some pressure on the muscles there. I squeeze, trying to relieve some of the tension but it doesn’t do shit for me. I can’t fucking relax.

I’m angry. I’m so goddamn angry. I need my girl, I need her here in my fucking grip. I need to see her perfect face to know she’s safe and okay.

“Can you call Summer?” I grunt at Jax. He doesn’t say a word in return, just pulls his phone from his pocket and dials – putting the call on speakerphone.

She answers on the third ring, “I was just thinking about you. Malcolm is over here and I was showing him thatmoviewe made a couple days ago.”

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