Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
Our shift is over, and we’re parked down the street from the bar Carolina works at. I couldn’t bring myself to drive home. I need to talk to her, but I want to wait until she finishes her shift. It wouldn’t be right to barge in while she’s working to discuss our personal stuff again.
We watch as the last patrons leave the bar, followed by her blonde coworker and a shorter man with a beer belly, who walk out arm in arm. I watch as Carolina locks the door behind them through the glass entrance.
It’s now or never.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” Clay asks, his concern etched on his face.
I furrow my brows. “What do you mean? I need to apologize. I messed up.”
He tilts his head, studying me. “Do you truly believe that? Or are you just saying sorry to avoid her being mad at you?”
His words make me pause and consider his perspective. I can see where she’s coming from, but I don’t think I’m entirely in the wrong. She needed help, and I provided it. It’s her pride that’s standing in the way.
“If you go in there without being fully ready to acknowledge you are in the wrong, this could blow up, and we don’t want that,” he says.
“So, what do you suggest I do?” I ask, feeling torn.
“I think I should talk to her first, gauge her feelings a bit. Right now, she needs a friend more than a boyfriend. Look, I’ll call you and put my phone in my pocket so you can hear our conversation. What do you think?” Clay asks.
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal, and if she finds out, she’ll feel betrayed. I don’t want to do that,” I say, biting my lip.
“Fine, do what you want. I’m going to call you, and you can decide if you want to pick up,” Clay says, getting out of the car and making his way toward the bar.
Halfway there, my phone starts ringing. If I’m honest with myself, I need to know what they’re going to talk about, even if it’s wrong.
I pick up the call, put it on speaker, and watch through the car window as Clay puts his phone in the pocket of his uniform pants, muffling the sound slightly, but I can still hear the knocking on the glass.
Carolina comes to the door and opens it slightly, her voice muffled through the speakerphone. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Let me in. I thought maybe you needed someone to talk to,” Clay says, his tone gentle without his usual humor.
“It’s nearly two in the morning,” she points out. “Did Josh send you?”
Josh, not Joshua. That’s not a good sign.
“No, I genuinely thought you needed a friend, and since we’re the best of friends, I’m here,” Clay says, the smirk back in his voice.
“Whatever, I need to close up in the back. Come in,” she says, stepping away from the door and allowing him entry.
They move out of my view after she locks the door behind them, but I can still hear their conversation through the phone.
“Are you alone?” Clay asks, and there’s a rustling as if they’re walking.
“The kitchen staff just left. I’m usually the one who closes up and leaves last,” she says, and my stomach sinks.
It’s dangerous for her to be alone at this time. Closing up is when most robberies happen, and she’s a woman, alone.
“That’s pretty dangerous,” Clay echoes my thoughts.
She huffs in annoyance. “What do you want, Clay? I’d like to get some sleep before I have to get up in a few hours.”
I grip the steering wheel tightly, my worry intensifying as I hear how agitated she is.
“Let’s sit down. You can tell me what happened.” Clay’s voice becomes even more muffled, making me guess he’s taken a seat.
“What’s your poison? I need a drink for this,” she says, and my heart aches.
Is it that bad?
“How about some vodka shots?” Clay suggests, and the sound of glasses being set on a surface immediately follows. “Cheers,” Clay toasts, glass clinking before I hear Carolina cough. “Now, tell me everything.”
“So you can run to your best friend and spill exactly what I said?” There’s a hint of hurt in her voice.
“No, you’re my best friend too, remember? I’m Switzerland. I just know you need to talk, and I want to be there for you. I won’t tell Josh,” Clay reassures her.
I furrow my brow, wondering why he would lie to her like that. This will only make things worse.
“Promise?” she asks.
“Promise,” Clay says, and the line goes dead.
After ending the call, I put my phone back into my pocket, fully aware that Josh will be angry with me. But I can’t bring myself to regret it. I see the pain in Carolina’s eyes. She truly is my best friend, even though it’s new.
If Josh asked me to keep a secret, I would do the same for him. He’ll just have to get over it.
“Spill,” I say, grabbing the vodka bottle and refilling our shot glasses.
We’re sitting beside a table facing each other. Carolina takes the glass, tilts her head back, and downs the shot in one gulp before having another fit of coughing. I laugh. “Do you even drink?”
She wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her black hoodie. “Nope, this is my first time ever.”
My eyes widen. “You’re twenty-two and working at a bar.”
She points a finger at me. “Exactly. I see every day what alcohol does to people.”
My thoughts drift to the evening we watched as she struggled to drag her drunk uncle home, and my stomach sinks.
This might not have been the best idea.
Carolina reaches for the vodka, but I quickly grab the bottle and place it on my side of the table, out of her reach.
“Hey!” she protests.
“Spill, Carolina,” I insist.
She bites on her bottom lip, and I reach out to pull it gently from between her teeth with my thumb. She looks up at me with those mesmerizing golden eyes, and I can see the hurt in them.
When I withdraw my hand, she lowers her gaze to the table, fidgeting with her shot glass. “I’m not a fucking charity case,” she mutters.
I nod. “I know. You’ve said that before.”
“Then why does he feel the need to buy me a phone? I could manage just fine without him. I don’t need a man to provide for me, only to use it against me during fights or when he wants something in return.”
My eyes widen in disbelief. “Tell me you know that Josh would never do that because this is ridiculous. He bought you that phone because you needed it, and he couldn’t bear to see you in need when he had the means to help.
And I know you know that too. You mean the world to him, and judging by the way you look at him, he means the same to you. ”
She nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know. Dio, I know. But everything has a price. Just because you don’t see the price tag now doesn’t mean it won’t come crashing down on you in the future.”
This girl must have been through more shit than I could imagine. Her strength is both awe-inspiring and heart-wrenching. She glances over at the vodka bottle, and with a hesitant sigh, I pour another round of shots for us.
We clink glasses once more before downing the liquor, her coughing only slightly this time.
“Look, I may not know your entire story, and I understand that there might be reasons why you feel the way you do,” I start.
“But I promise you, no, I swear, Josh would never, under any circumstances, hold anything against you. Even if you two were married and you decided to elope with me one day, he would be heartbroken and devastated, but he would still wish you happiness because that’s the kind of person Joshy is. ”
She nods. “I think so too. I just thought he was too good to be true.”
I can’t help but snicker. “Josh is too good, but he’s also true.”
Her eyes roll before her demeanor turns serious again. “It’s hard to open up and let someone in. All I’ve ever done is shut people out, trying to survive this shit show of a life.”
“Carolina…” My heart aches for her.
“I’m tough, dammit,” she whispers, tears brimming in her eyes.
“I know you are,” I assure her, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re the toughest little kitty I know,” I add with a sad smirk.
She lets out a sigh, her voice trembling. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“You have,” I say, “And you still do. Fuck, you always will. We’ve just joined in now too.
We’re a family, and we care for each other.
It was wrong of him to sweep in without asking, overwhelming you, but honestly, Carolina, the days you had to fight on your own are over.
We are here now, and we aren’t going anywhere. Better get used to it quickly.”
“The last time I didn’t feel alone was five years ago,” she confesses.
“Is that when your parents passed away?” I ask, already sensing the answer.
She nods. “Car crash.”
I reach for her hand, taking it in mine and gently stroking the back of it.
“My mom passed some years ago too,” I share. “Cancer.”
“I’m so sorry, Clay,” she says, her eyes filled with genuine sympathy.
“My father was never in the picture anyway. I know what it feels like to be the child of no one,” I say softly.
Tears well in her eyes once more. “Life can be so fucked up and unfair,” she mutters.
“Agreed,” I commiserate, refilling our shot glasses before clinking them together again. We throw back the shots, and I feel the warmth spread through my body. “Ugh…” I say, feeling the pleasant buzz. “Life is way too short to fight over stupid shit, though, too.”
She nods, tears still making their way down her face. “Seems like I’m the one who needs to apologize to Joshua.”
I use my thumb to wipe away one of them from her cheek, marveling at how shiny her eyes are now that they glisten with tears. Her cheeks are flushed, and it’s evident that the vodka is hitting her faster than it is me.
“True, but let’s let him stew a bit longer. You overreacted, but he messed up in the first place,” I say with a casual shrug.
The warmth in my stomach spreads throughout my body, making me feel cozy. I push up the sleeves of my uniform, revealing my forearms. Her gaze follows, and she reaches out to turn my left wrist, examining the inside of my arm.
She bursts into laughter. “Dio, Clay, what is this? It’s the worst damn tattoo I’ve ever seen. Is that a lion?”
I smile at her, unable to hide my amusement. “It sure is.”
She traces the tattoo with her fingertips, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. “Why?” she asks, peering up at me through her lashes, and my heart races in response.
“This was Xander’s very first tattoo on human skin,” I say, a smile playing on my lips. “He needed a guinea pig and promised to cover it up once he got better, but I love it. I love my man, and I’m so damn proud of where he came from. I could never get rid of this.”
She smiles at me with warmth in her eyes, and I hold up my other arm next to it. “This lion he did last year, a little bit of progress, don’t you think?”
“Wow,” she breathes out, her gaze fixed on my two lion tattoos. One resembling Mufasa after the wildebeest stampede, and the other a stunningly realistic lion that could have jumped out of a National Geographic documentary.
“I understand why you kept it. It’s so special and cool,” Carolina says, her eyes meeting mine. “Just like you, Clay. You’re so special, and I’m so happy you didn’t let me get rid of you.”
I chuckle. “Jesus, kitten, are you already that drunk?”
“Drunk or not, it doesn’t make it any less true,” she whispers.
I shift my chair closer to hers, our knees touching, and gently rub hers with my hands. “I’m very grateful you didn’t kick my ass to the curb too,” I say with a grin.
Suddenly, she stands and pushes my knees wide so she can stand between them. She wraps her arms around my neck, holding me in a tight hug.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me,” she whispers, her voice filled with vulnerability.
I can’t stop the tears pooling in my own eyes as I squeeze her to me.
“Promise.”