Chapter 5
Conner
I go home, shower, and fall face-first into my bed, hoping that when I wake up, this will all be a dream. Spoiler Alert: I feel even worse when I roll out of bed at ten o’clock at night.
My apartment is too quiet, and it makes my chest feel hollow.
I’ve got to get out of here.
Do something.
Anything but sit still.
Picking up my cell, I check my notifications and find none. No surprise. Dean, Nick, and Bennet only reach out for a purpose, not to shoot the shit. Dialing Dean first, he picks up on the second ring. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
“You down for a beer at the Salt Lick?”
“Hang on a sec.”
I hear him muffle the phone and talk to his lovely woman, Grace, then he says, “Yeah sure, what time are you thinking?”
“Now.”
“Want me to pick you up?”
I’m between his house and the bar, so it’s not out of the way for him. Besides, I think getting shitfaced might be my best option for dealing with life tonight. “Yeah. That works.”
“See you soon.”
He’s at my house half an hour later. I expected Grace to be with him, but she’s not.
I’m a little relieved. Does that make me an asshole?
I love her to death, she’s the best thing to come into Dean’s life, but I don’t want to see a happy couple flaunting their happiness so happily tonight.
I want roots. Old friends and a cold beer and so much chaos I can’t think, or dead silence, so I don’t have to talk.
“I called Nick and Bennet. They’re meeting us too.”
“Awesome.” Guess it’s obvious I need a pick-me-up night.
We park in the bar’s tiny lot, and I readjust my baseball hat.
“Taylor couldn’t make it. She’s got other plans.”
Of course, she does. With her man.
Her man that’s not me.
Scrubbing my face doesn’t help. Ordering a beer doesn’t either. Neither does hitting the pool table and beating both Dean and Nick. So, I order a double shot of whisky. And another. And another.
“Damn, man. Slow your roll.” Nick slaps me on the back. “What’s going on with you tonight?”
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Bennet chimes and I flip him the bird.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.”
We’re in the middle of another pool game when I see something that makes my vision turn red.
Austin.
And he’s kissing…
“What. The. Fuck.” I re-grip my pool stick and rush at him from the opposite end of the bar. “Hey!” Not waiting for him to turn and look at me, I crack him in the back with the pool stick.
He hollers, whips around with a sneer, and I grab his throat and yank him off the woman who isn’t Taylor.
Not Taylor. Not Taylor. Not Taylor.
The whisky makes my movements sloppy, but I clock him in the jaw, regardless. “She wasn’t enough for you so you up and cheat on her?”
I hit him again.
“You ungrateful piece of shit!”
I hit him again.
“You cheating, no good, lousy motherfucker!”
Someone grips my fist, mid-swing—Nick. Someone else picks me up and hauls me away—Dean.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Nick roars.
“He’s cheating on her!” I kick at Austin who is glowering at me.
“I’m not cheating,” I think I hear him say. I don’t know. My blood is rushing and the whisky’s made my hearing warble.
“Liar.”
“We’re over,” he grumbles, spitting blood on the floor. “You happy now?”
Not hardly. “Since when?”
“Since last night!” Austin yells at me, rising to his feet. The woman he was sucking face with dashes out of the way and grabs her coat and leaves.
But I’m stuck on what Austin just said. “Last night, my ass.”
“More like yesterday afternoon.” He wipes his chin and steps closer to me.
“Bro, back up,” Nick warns. “You guys do not want to do this here.”
“Maybe we should,” Austin smirks.
Dean growls in my ear, “Assaulting law enforcement ain’t the way, Con.”
“He’s a game warden, not a cop.” But Dean’s right. I need to back off.
Except all I keep thinking about is that Austin’s full of shit and I try to take a swing at him again. And miss because the whisky’s taken over my speed and judgement.
“You won!” he yells at me, tossing his hands in the air. “You fucking won, Conner.”
My body stills, even though Dean’s grip is still firm on me. “What are you talking about?”
“No one can compete with you.” Austin jabs his finger in my chest. “Congratulations.”
Okay, this whisky is really messing with me.
“She dumped me yesterday over dumbass dandelions and moon pickles.”
Someone next to me, I think it’s Nick, laughs. “Sounds like our girl.”
“Why?” I ask, getting madder. “Did you make her feel like shit for having them?”
There’s a moment. A flutter. A blink of a second when I see Austin’s shameful expression.
He did.
He made her feel bad for wanting and enjoying things he doesn’t understand. And that’s why he’s a big saggy nut sack, because who cares if he doesn’t understand those things? He doesn’t have to in order to love her. He doesn’t need to get it to treat her like she deserves.
Hell, I have a tiger’s eye charm hanging from the mirror of my truck.
Do I know what it does? Hell no. Did she tell me to hang it and never take it down?
Yes. It’ll stay there for however long I have this truck and then it’ll hang in whatever vehicle I get next.
What do I care? It was important to her that I have it.
So I keep it.
“Is it that hard to just give her what she wants?” I growl. “Are you so pigheaded and selfish that you can’t give her the simplest gift of acceptance, you twatbag?”
Austin’s taunting laughter rips through me. “I can’t give her what she wants when all she fucking wants is you.” He jabs his finger into my forehead, punctuating his words and it’s so demeaning, I rip myself out of Dean’s grip and attack him again.
“You’re the selfish idiot!” Austin yells as he blocks my blows. When he punches me on the side of the head, stars burst in my vision. “You’re the one who can’t give her the simplest gift. Twatbag.”
We tear into each other, knocking furniture over until Nick rips Austin away while Dean grabs me again. Bennet stands between us, his arms up like a referee. And then Jesse, the bartender, comes forward with his trusty baseball bat.
“That’s enough,” Jesse says, hitting the tip of the bat against his palm. “You wanna keep fighting like dogs, go do it outside.”
Austin rips out of Nick’s grip and straightens his shirt. I’m still restrained, fighting nausea, and sucking in harsh breaths. The room is spinning.
“I’m not a cheater,” Austin says under his breath one last time before walking out of the door.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Conner.” Dean lets me go and the guys fix the furniture, righting the chairs and scooting the tables back into their place. “What the hell’s going on with you?”
“Something that should have happened forever ago,” Bennet says cautiously. “He’s facing reality.”
I don’t know what to say about that, so I grind my teeth together.
“I honestly thought you were over her,” Nick says, pushing the last chair in.
My three best friends stare at me, waiting for me to say something.
I keep silent and leave.