Chapter 14
fourteen
A s I parked the Jeep in front of the taproom, I searched for Micah’s Mercedes. Nothing. The ache in my heart grew. “We’re here.” I got out and met Wells, strolling to the front door of the restaurant, then opened it.
He stepped inside.
“Let’s sit at the bar.” I walked to the far side of the bar, taking a quick scan of the people sitting at tables and a few at the bar. My gaze caught on a blonde and brunette sitting at the bar. “Shit.” Not what I needed right now. Wrong gender and definitely wrong everything else.
“What?” He snagged my arm as we walked.
I flipped my hood over my head. “Put your hood on.” I took a seat at the bar, keeping my head lowered.
“Why?” He tossed his hood over his head and sat beside me. “This looks ridiculous, sitting here with our hoods on our heads.”
“I’m trying to keep those girls from noticing us.” I twisted my face away from them.
“What girls?” He swayed his head, looking over the bar.
“I met these two girls the first time I was in here. The brunette is the girl I hooked up with that day.” The day I’d wanted to take Micah home for the first time. I scowled.
He snickered. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah, well, the blonde thinks you’re hot. So, go for it.” I pursed my lips.
“I’m not leaving your side. If I do, you’ll probably break Micah’s door down.” He huffed.
I flashed a glare at him. The fucker was right.
Ally stepped to us and set menus down. “What can I get you?”
I picked the menu up and held it over my face. “IPA for me.”
Ally looked at Wells. “I’ll be damned. Wells Tollefson?”
Wells gave her his best smile. “Yeah.”
“I’m Ally. It’s great seeing you in here with Ash. I love your music.”
“Thanks.” He smirked at me.
“What can I get you to drink?” She placed a hand on her hip.
“Get me an IPA, too.” He pointed at me. “And a shot of bourbon for this guy.”
“Sure thing.” She jogged off.
“Why are you getting me bourbon?” I peeked at him from behind the menu. “I have to drive us home.” And when I found Micah, we were going to talk, so I couldn’t get drunk.
“No, you don’t. I’m driving.” He held out his hand. “Give me your keys.”
I snapped my brows together. “No.”
“Yes. You are going to drink enough to forget about this Micah thing and I am going to make sure you get home all right.” He poked his hand at me.
I released a quick exhale. He was right. I had to let Micah come to me. But damn, I didn’t want to. “Fine.” I slid the keys out of my pocket and dumped them in his hand.
Ally set the beers and bourbon down in front of us. “What can I get you to eat?”
We both ordered burgers.
As she bent over the bar, she focused on me. “Hey, you just missed Micah. He left here about fifteen minutes ago.” She smiled at us both and left.
Micah... Pain screeched through my chest. “Fuck.” Just when I’d resigned myself to leaving him alone. My eyes pricked. I dipped my heat and clenched my teeth, fisting my hands on the bar.
Wells turned in his chair to put his face close to mine. “Were you expecting Micah to be here?”
“What? No.” Of course I was. I stared at the bar.
“Yes, you were. What were you thinking? What would you do if he were here?”
“I-I don’t know. Talk to him? Maybe get an idea of where his head is at?” Another wave of pain swept through me. “All I know is it fucking hurts to be like this, not knowing one way or the other if I’ll ever be with him again.”
He draped his arm around my shoulders and came in closer. “I know. But it’s best if you leave him alone to figure it out.”
“I know.” I lifted the bourbon to my lips and drank it down in one gulp. Burning lit up my throat, and the liquor buzzed in my head. What was it called? Drowning your sorrows. Wells was a genius. “Guess I’ll need another.” I sipped my beer.
Ally stepped up to us and dropped off our burgers. “Anything else I can get you?”
“Another bourbon for Ash.” He picked up his burger and took a bite.
“What if Micah can’t stay away from me and wants to talk when we get home?” I could dream. I stuffed a fry in my mouth.
He scoffed and shook his head once. “Jesus, man. Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen. He doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who’s going to decide that fast. Not after what he’s been through.” As he ate another bite of burger, his attention moved down the bar. “Uh-oh. Incoming.”
“Shit. I’m really not in the mood for this.” I scowled.
Anne sided up to me. “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Good.” I was so not interested. I drank my beer, then hugged it on the bar, not making any eye contact with her.
Linda came up behind Anne. “Is that Wells? Oh my God. It is.” She gushed with a wide smile. She stepped to his side. “Hi, I’m Linda. We met Ash in here last week.”
“Yeah, I heard.” He shoved his hood off his head and gave me a knowing look.
Ally strode by and set another bourbon on the bar. “Here you go.”
I picked it up and swallowed it down with a hiss, welcoming the burn and the fog that followed.
Anne pressed her body into my side. “Can we sit with you guys?”
“Sure.” Wells draped an arm around Linda and gave her a flirtatious smile.
Traitor . I narrowed my eyes at him.
Anne sat next to me and Linda climbed up next to Wells.
Wells flagged down Ally. “Hey, Ally, another bourbon.”
She nodded.
“You’re going to get drunk drinking bourbon that fast.” Anne sipped her beer.
“Yep.” I was going to get sloppy drunk. Then she’d want nothing to do with me. I pinched my lips and took a bite of my burger.
“So, have you guys started recording yet?” Linda asked Wells.
“No, we’re just hanging out and having some fun.” He placed his hand over mine, resting on the bar.
“Really.” Anne glanced at our hands. “Where are you staying, Wells?”
“With Ash. He’s got a one-bedroom place out here.” With a smirk on his face, he shifted back in his chair. “With only one big, comfortable bed.”
Was he trying to get an orgy started back at my apartment? I leaned into him. Under my breath, I said, “Stop it.” I yanked my hand free and ate more fries.
Anne knitted her brows and cocked her head, her gaze darting between Wells and me. “Oh...”
Ally placed another bourbon in front of us. “Here you go.”
I picked the shot up. This should do it. No more pain.
Wells put his hand over the glass. “Take it easy. How about sipping this one?”
I glared at him. “You’re the one that wanted me drunk.”
“Not that drunk.” He chuckled.
Anne peered at him. “So, I guess you two are good friends, huh?”
He smirked at her. “You could say that.”
Alcohol hummed in my head. I attempted to focus on Anne. The pain numbed in my chest. “Wells and I are best friends. Have been since we were little. Right, Wells?” I slapped a sloppy arm around his shoulder.
He chuckled. “Yep.”
Linda edged closer to Wells. “I read that you two have been in bands together since you were fourteen.”
“That would be correct.” He removed my arm from his shoulders.
I peeked at him, picked up the bourbon, and poured it down my throat. With a hiss, I slapped the glass on the bar and gave him a dumb smile. That’ll fix him.
“I told you not to do that.” He glowered at me. “No more, then,” he said. “Jesus, I didn’t think you were going to go crazy on me.”
My head swam. I had to slow it down somehow. I picked up my burger and ate bite after bite as if ravenous.
Anne placed her hand on my arm. “What are you doing after this?”
Still chewing, I stared at her.
Wells lifted his brows. “Oh, we have work to do after this.” He slapped at my arm. “Don’t we?”
Thankfully, he was coming around to my way of thinking. We had to get rid of them. I nodded at him, chewed, and drank some beer. “Yeah, work.”
“That’s too bad.” Anne moved her hand to my thigh.
I winced. I did not want her touching me.
“We have some good weed and thought maybe the two of you would want to hang out,” Anne said.
He offered Anne a wide smile. “Do you now?” He glanced at me, frowned, then sighed. “No, not tonight. I’d take a rain check on that, though.”
Linda put her hand on his arm. “Really? Can I give you my number? Ash already has Anne’s number.”
“Sure.” He slid his phone from his pocket, opened the screen, and handed it to her. “Put your number in here.”
As Linda entered the phone number, I lifted my hand, getting Ally’s attention.
Ally peered down the bar at me.
More, I needed much more to get through this. As I gave Ally a crooked smile, I held up my empty bourbon glass and two fingers from my other hand.
Ally smiled and nodded at me.
Linda handed the cell phone back to Wells. “Here you go.”
After typing on the screen, he closed it.
Ally set two new bourbons in front of us and jogged back down the bar.
I snatched one and swallowed it down, then the other. It didn’t burn anymore. Come to think of it, nothing hurt anymore. Good.
“God damn it, Ash.” He grabbed my hand as it came back to the bar with the second empty glass, then clenched his teeth and pressed into my side. “Enough already. Slow down. Just drink your beer.”
My unsteady gaze found his. “No, you were right. I need to drink enough to forget about Micah.” I let a sarcastic laugh erupt from my throat. “But it’s going to take a lot of liquor to forget about him.”
Anne pushed into me. “Who’s Micah?”
I swayed in my chair. “A guy I love.” Who cares what they thought or what anyone would say? It was probably over anyway. I quirked the corner of my mouth, my head fully bathing in bourbon.
“A what?” Her eyes widened.
“Damn it.” He leaned in and grabbed Anne’s shoulder. “It’s a bromance, you know, like I love you, man ?”
“Oh.” Anne gave him a shaky grin.
I pounded my fist on the bar. “No, it isn’t. I love him. I?—”
“Shut up.” He jumped from his chair and grabbed me.
I stumbled off my chair in his hold, almost tumbling to the floor.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“I’m drunk. It’s what you wanted.” It was all his fault I was drunk. I attempted to glare at him, swaying.
“You’re done is what you are.” He looked down the bar. When Ally lifted her chin to him, he nodded his head.
She jogged to us and gave me the once-over. “Oh. I didn’t realize he was drinking all those shots.”
“Yeah, we need to pay up.” Wells propped me on my chair and slid out his wallet from a pocket, then his debit card. He glanced at Anne and Linda. “Sorry. He’s having a bit of a crisis.”
“I see that.” Anne slid off her chair and rested a hand on my back. “You okay?”
He removed her hand. “Might be better to just leave him alone.”
Ally came back to us with the debit card and payment slip. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Wells totaled the bill, signed it, and snatched me up in his arms. “See you both another time?”
“Yeah.” Anne said.
“Call me.” Linda said.
He laid my arm over his shoulder and walked me out of the bar to my Jeep, then he brought me to the passenger side and opened the door. “Get inside.”
“Whatever.” I climbed into the Jeep and stared out the window, numb all the way around.
He got into the driver’s side and started the engine, then put the address for the apartment into his cell phone and drove us up Highway One and to the apartments. Once there, he parked in my spot and shut the Jeep off. “What the fuck, man?”
“It hurts, Wells.” Maybe I hadn’t drunk enough to stop it. I grabbed at my chest, the pain breaking through the alcohol.
“I know.” Sighing, he climbed out of the Jeep and stepped over to my side.
After stumbling from the Jeep, I shut the door and fixated on the black Mercedes SUV parked next to me. In a broken voice, I said, “Fuck.” My breath hitched and my knees buckled.
Wells caught me under the arms. “Come on, pull it together.”
As I came up, I gazed at him with more of the damned tears tumbling down my cheeks. Everything spun around me. I needed something else to kill the pain. “Kiss me.” I tugged at his waist and pressed toward him.
He bent back. “Stop it, Ash. You don’t really want that right now.”
“Yes, I do. Maybe if we kiss, the pain will stop.” I couldn’t feel anymore. It hurt too much. I let out a ragged breath.
He scowled. “No. I’m not doing that to you or to me.” He sucked his lower lip. “Come on.” Placing my arm over his shoulders, he guided me out of the parking lot and onto the path to the apartment.
As we stepped over the walkway, I looked up.
A black figure stood at Micah’s door.
My heart faltered, then the ache came at me full force. “Micah.”
“Shit.” Wells stopped.
I wrestled out of his hold. Floundering forward, I stretched my hand out with splayed fingers. In a ragged voice, I yelled, “Micah!”
Micah twisted at the door, then dropped his mouth open and widened his eyes, his face tensing. Flinging his door open, he jumped inside and slammed it shut.
“No...” My gaze darted over the scene in front of me. “What does that mean? Is that it?” My mottled mind struggled to find meaning in every detail of what I saw.
“I don’t know. It probably means he’s not ready to talk.” Wells snatched me again and walked me to the door. Keeping a heavy hold on me, he unlocked the door and opened it, then walked me inside, shutting the door behind us.
Guiding me to the couch, he said, “Sit down. I’ll get you some water.” He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, then came back to sit beside me, handing me a bottle of water.
I twisted the bottle open and took a few gulps, then leaned over to rest my head against his shoulder. “Why doesn’t he want to talk to me?” Desperation laced my voice.
“Maybe because you’re shit-faced?” He chuckled. “Damn, I barely got to finish my food, let alone talk to that Linda girl.”
“Those girls are groupies, anyway.” I took another sip of water. The room spun. I tried to form complete thoughts, but couldn’t. “I think I need to go lie down.”
“Okay.” He swallowed his water. “Do you need help, or do you think you can make it?”
“I can make it.” I stood and stepped carefully, though unsteadily, to my bedroom. After setting the water bottle and my cell phone on the nightstand, I plopped into the bed on my side, then curled up, shut my eyes, and clutched the sweatshirt over my chest.
* * *
Ash...
I fluttered my eyes open. Was that Micah? The voice sure sounded like it. I listened. The soft patter of rain hitting the window floated through the room. That was weird. I didn’t think it rained here in the summer. I guessed there was an exception to everything. The voice...was it real, or in my head?
I licked my lips and glanced at Wells, still asleep on his side facing me, under the covers, his arm draped across my chest. Carefully, I moved his arm, then rose on the bed and lowered my legs to the side. I looked down at the sweatshirt and shorts still covering my body, then picked up my cell phone from the nightstand and read the time, 4:16 a.m.
The hazy memory of Micah at his door flooded my mind. Pain rolled through my chest. Why wouldn’t he talk to me? I gnawed at my lip, stood from the bed, slipped my feet into my sneakers, and stuffed my phone into my pocket.
Had Micah called out to me? Was he on his patio, even in the rain? I strode out of the bedroom, through the main room, and to the patio doors. After sliding them open, I peeked around the corner at Micah’s patio. Raindrops fell through the glow from the pathway and landscaping lights. No Micah.
Wells was still asleep. Now was my chance. I shut the patio door, jogged to the front door, and stepped outside, closing the door with a soft click. I needed to find Micah, especially if the voice I’d heard was real. Something didn’t feel right, and it was more than the loss I’d felt all day.
I walked to his door, the sconce on the wall lighting up the walkway, and raised my hand to knock. I stopped, the gentle rain wetting my hair. I could go to his bedroom window. Even better. I jogged down the cement walkway, stepping over the bushes and wet grass around his patio to stand before his bedroom window. The blinds were open. I peered inside through the splatters of raindrops. The bed was unmade, but he wasn’t there.
I should be sure. I slipped my phone out of my pocket, hit a button to power the flashlight, and held it up to the window. Wiping splatters aside with my fingers, I peered inside, putting my face close to the cold glass.
I scanned the contents of his bedroom. Clothes lay strewn around the room, and he’d pulled down the covers, but he wasn’t there. I dropped my phone to my side. Could he have fallen asleep on the couch? I stepped to the patio wall and hopped over it. The rain fell harder, making larger splashes as droplets hit me.
I stood before his patio doors, peering inside again. Clothes scattered the floor, and a few empty bags lay around, but Micah was nowhere to be seen. I held up my phone, flashlight still on, and looked once more. Cold raindrops fell into the neck of my sweatshirt, sending a chill down my spine. He was gone. Where the hell was he? Was he okay?
I lifted the hood of my sweatshirt over my wet hair, then jogged to the edge of the patio wall, jumped over it, and ran out to the parking area. Pools of water lay scattered across the pavement, and the parking lot lights shimmered in them. I stopped at his spot next to my Jeep and focused on his black Mercedes SUV. Metal pattering filled the air around me as raindrops hit the parking lot canopy.
I stepped closer, peering inside the windows. Again, empty. I slipped my cell phone into my pocket. “What the fuck?” My insides twisted. This was getting serious. I turned around, chewing my bottom lip, and looked over the road, lit by streetlights and patches of moonlight filtering through thick rain clouds. Rolling waves pounded below the bluffs.
“The beach.”
My heart leapt. Without thinking, I ran across the road, down the path to the beach, and took two steps at a time on the stairs. I landed on the sand and scanned around, noting the sliver of beach left by the heavy swells. The rain picked up, tumbling large drops onto the already wet sand. My gaze drifted to the right. The white crest of the waves glowed as they rolled in and crashed against a break before the bluff started.
“Shit.” The tide. I walked left, searching over the remnants of our bonfire, almost swallowed whole by the surf.
In the ambient light from the streetlights above, I spotted a dark lump in the drenched sand where the waves licked at the shoreline.
Was that seaweed? I narrowed my eyes. As I drew closer, the clouds shifted above, and the glow of the moonlight revealed a hand beneath the sleeve of a black hooded sweatshirt. Dark hair spread over the sand.
“Oh, shit, Micah.” My chest ripped with a start. I sprinted to him.
He was lying face down, his right arm curved toward his head, his right cheek pressed into the sand, his body soaked. The surf rolled in, lapping over his feet and up to his thighs.
I stopped, dropped to my knees, and flipped him onto his back, yanking him into my lap. “Micah!” I shook him with a force I couldn’t control.
His head lolled to the side. His lips were pale, and his eyes were almost closed to slits, but open enough to see the whites underneath.
“Damn it. Micah!” I shook him again. My eyes stung. “Fuck. Don’t be dead.”
The vision of my brother lying in bed with a needle in his arm flooded my mind. I shut my eyes against it. A whimper escaped my throat as I dropped my head to Micah’s chest and listened, holding him tight.
A faint heartbeat thumped in my ear.
“Oh, thank God. Thank God.” I blinked, and tears fell down both my cheeks, mixing with the rain. I sucked in a ragged breath, stood, and heaved him out of the water, dragging sand with my wet sneakers. As I dropped back down, I tugged him to my chest and rocked him. “Wake up, Micah. Please.”
I wept, losing myself in unbearable grief. The image of rocking Lane in my lap was crystal clear in my head. Then the rain fell in a sudden torrent, tossing me out of the vision. In a growl, I said, “Wake up!”
Dropping him to my lap, I stared down, first seeing Lane’s face, then Micah’s. I had to stop these damn visions. I shut my eyes and shook my head. “What’s wrong with you? Did you take something again?”
What should I do? This can’t be happening. Not again. I looked out to sea at the glow of the rolling waves, tears streaming down my cheeks, mixing with the rivulets of rain.
I have to call for help.
With trembling fingers, I fumbled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed 9-1-1. My hand shook as I held the phone to my ear.
“Nine-One-One, what is your emergency?” a female voice asked.
“Th-there’s someone on the beach unconscious. I need an ambulance.” The rain pelted my face.
“What is your location?”
“I-I’m in Pacifica. At Esplanade beach. Close to the stairs.”
“Okay, we have someone en route. Stay with me.”
I fixated on him, wiping raindrops from my face with my free hand, clenching my teeth, my lower lip quivering.
“Is he breathing?”
“Yes,” I said. “I checked his heartbeat already.” My breath hitched. It wouldn’t help to cry again. I tensed my jaw, stifling a sob.
“Do you know who it is?”
“Yes, it’s my...” I released a ragged exhale. “It’s my boyfriend.” Pain hurtled through my heart, taking my breath away.
“Okay. Do you know why he might be there unconscious? Is there any pertinent information you can give me for the paramedics?”
“He might have taken something. Uh, Xanax and maybe Valium.” I blinked and lost the battle to stop the tears. “H-he was part way in the water and it’s raining here. Maybe he’s hypothermic?”
“Okay, that’s good information. I’m showing that the ambulance should be there. Can you see them?”
I twisted my head to search behind me. Red and white lights flashed at the top of the bluff, lighting up fat raindrops. “Yeah, I see them.” Damn the rain. I yanked him close to my chest and bent over him, holding the back of his head up.
Two men in dark uniforms ran down the beach toward me with a stretcher between them.
As the men reached us, I set Micah down as gently as I could and swiped at my face. “You’ll be all right. I’ll make sure of it. I’m right here with you.” But as soon as I spoke, he morphed into Lane. I blinked hard and Micah came back. “Fuck.” My whole body shivered. Hugging my waist, I tried to steady myself. I had to be strong. I shook it off.
The paramedics dropped the stretcher into the sand and grabbed a black bag sitting on top. They opened it and took out the medical equipment. “Please, move aside.”
“Okay.” I crawled away on the wet sand, stood, and wiped some of the sand off myself. Drops of rain cascaded over my clothes and skin.
One man checked Micah’s heartbeat with a stethoscope while the other wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm. “So, you think he took Xanax and Valium?” one of them asked.
“Yeah. He has them for a condition.” Micah had to be all right. And when he was, we’d talk. I’d convince him that somehow we could make this work. My heart pattered like a wild bird in flight. I wiped at my face with shaky fingers and wrapped my arms around my stomach.
“Heartbeat is slow and blood pressure is down, but that would be expected,” the other man said.
The first man wiped Micah’s temple with a towel, then set an electronic thermometer on it. It beeped, and he read it. “94.3 degrees. Looks like he’s hypothermic.”
The other man said, “Let’s load him up and get him out. We need to get the wet clothes off and some blankets on him.”
They lifted Micah onto the stretcher, his body limp, and stood with the stretcher between them. They strode toward the stairs.
I ran after them, struggling to see through the rain bombarding my face. “Hey, wait. I’m going with you.”
“You’re the boyfriend, correct?” The first man glanced at me.
“Yes.” I followed them up the stairs and onto the path toward the road.
“Okay, but you have to ride up front.”