Page 7 of Forever Wolf

“I haven't seen her in a long time. Two weeks to be specific.” Devon says, attempting to get me to stay.

“Lover’s quarrel?”

I wedge myself between dancing bodies, making my way through the dance floor. Devon is hot on my heels.

“Tell me where she is.”

“You think I know where she is?” I snort.

“I think she wouldn’t have left before talking to you first. So yes, tell me where she is, Jace.”

“Up my butt.”

Devon grips my arm and forces me to turn. “I hate it when you’re drunk.”

I raise my eyebrow, keeping silent. I’m worried about Carli now but I don’t dare say it out loud. “I hate you. More than I did before. You want to know why? Because on top of being a horrible man, you’ll be a horrible father,” I seethe.

I sound like a child, but that’s alright because Devon jerks back in either shock or hurt. I hope it’s both.

“What does that mean?” he asks.

I scoff, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “I know how you’re treating Carli, Devon. I don’t know what she saw in you, that she didn’t in me, but you’re not worth it. You’re not worth a second of her life or her child’s.”

“Oh yeah? She told you that I’m planning not to give a shit about my child?” Devon crosses his arms. “And then what? Did she ask for your forgiveness and ask for you to provide for her since I won’t?”

“She didn’t ask me anything. She just wanted to explain a bunch of stuff I don’t think is any of my business.” I blink lazily. The alcohol is fully flowing in my bloodstream now. “She wanted me to understand why she kept so much a secret and why she lied. And why should I still care about her after she slept with you. Like somehow I’m the bad guy in the narrative.”

Devon laughs. His shoulders shake and his eyes crinkle under the bar lights. “Women,” he says. “They’re confusing creatures, and never worth our time or emotions.”

I roll my eyes, not exactly sure if he’s right or so completely wrong.

“You need to get over her, man. I have.” Devon moves to walk past me.

“Where are you going?” I ask, frowning.

He grins. “My work here is done. Didn’t you say I wasn't allowed at Wet Spot anymore?”

* * *

I had a dream about Carli. She was lying on the grass, her hand over her swollen stomach and she was asking me what we should name our child. That’s right. Our child. I woke up in cold sweat, skull threatening to crack open with pain, and mouth dryer that the Sahara. Carli’s sweet voice echoed in my mind.

Hangovers are the worst especially after a breakup. In addition to the pain you feel when you’re sober, you have to worry about puking, and keeping your eyes open without wanting to tear your eyeballs out from seeing the daylight. I expected not to remember my encounter with Devon, but I do. Something about his conversation nags me. Something about this whole situation doesn't sit right. Without dwelling on that fact, I walk into the kitchen to start on a greasy breakfast.

The first thing I notice is someone humming. Second, is the glorious smell of bacon. I stop short when I see a lady’s handbag sitting primly on the side of my couch. With narrowed eyes, I walk slowly yet unsteadily, fists clenched at my side. I round the corner and come face to face with the last person I thought I’d see. My grandmother, who apparently knows how to break into people's houses now.

Don’t get me wrong, Nanna comes over a lot more these days than she did before. But on weekends, she gets drunk more often than I do. But here she is, holding two eggs in both her palms, pancake batter smudged on her cheek.

“Jace!” she screams.

My hands immediately go to cover my ears as I groan. “Nan, don’t scream.”

“I’m not!” she screams again.

I give her a pointed look.

“Ah, hangovers,” she nods, snickering to herself.

I stride with purpose to the stove and pluck a piece of cooked bacon from the pan before sitting at the island. “What are you doing here?” I question with a full mouth.

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