Chapter 8 #2
“That’s the goal,” I say, and wince when I quickly down the second one. The tequila burns a path down my throat to my stomach. “Total oblivion.”
“Elizabeth, what’s going on in your head right now?”
I’m feeling an instant mellow as the alcohol filters into my bloodstream, not used to the quick effects of hard liquor, or any type of alcohol for that matter.
“Too much is going on in my head. I need a few more of those to make it stop and I’ll be good to go.”
I wave our server back over, but Fallon shoos her away.
“I hate Jacinda,” I announce out of the blue. And Maria. Don’t forget you hate her too.
“Why would you even be thinking about her?”
My tongue already feels a bit thick. I slur, “Did you know I caught Ryder kissing her at the bonfire party? And then of course, there was your party where I saw her climbing all over Jayson.” I wave my hands in the air and giggle. Then I frown. “She was always trying to touch my men.
“I think it’s water for you from now on.”
I ignore him. “Jayson wanted to have sex with me against a tree that night. A freaking tree, Fallon! He was so drunk. Maria was flirting with Ryder. That night sucked,” I ramble.
“God, I hate having my memories back. I just want them to go away. Can you do that, Fallon? Can you make them go away?” I plead, tears springing up behind my glassy eyes.
I must be what they call a ‘lightweight’ because two shots of tequila have me drunk as a skunk. My mother would be horrified at me right now.
Fallon leans forward and wipes away my tipsy tears with his thumb. “I promised you that I would help you, Elizabeth. It won’t happen overnight. Come on. Let’s go dance,” he says, and I stumble beside him back downstairs onto the dance floor.
The music changes tempo to a slower beat and I feel someone brush against my back. I turn my head and for a second, I swear I see Jayson. Tipping forward in surprise, I ram straight into Fallon’s chest.
Gripping his shirt to steady myself, I shout up at him, “I think I agree with you on no more alcohol. I’m going to grab a bottle of water from the bar. I’ll be right back.”
I take my time as I make my way off the dance floor, still feeling a little wobbly on my legs from the effects of the tequila.
Note to self: Just say no to hard liquor.
As I approach the bar, there are people lined up, several of them raising their hands to get one of the bartender’s attention.
But it’s the tall guy standing at the end of the bar that grabs my notice.
I get a brief glimpse of his shirt, which has a Randy’s Custom Auto logo on it and my heart slams into my chest.
Ryder’s here? How did he find us? I am so unbelievably happy in that moment. I shove my way through the crowd desperate to get to him.
“Ryder!” I shout.
Someone knocks into me and an older man grabs me by the shoulders. I push him away. He’s not the guy I want. I look back to the bar and watch helplessly as Ryder walks off.
“Ryder! Wait! Don’t leave!”
Fallon calls my name before he snatches my forearm to stop me.
“Stop it, Fallon. Ryder’s here. Let me go.” I try to wiggle out of his grasp.
“That’s not him, kitten.”
“He’s right there.” I point to the guy walking away from the bar. Wait. I’m confused. The guy wearing the logo shirt has red hair and a nose ring. He’s wearing bracelets all up his tattooed right arm.
“But I thought…” I stand there feeling empty and desolate while tears spill from my eyes.
“I think you’re done for the night,” Fallon tells me, placing his hand on my lower back and shoving me off the main floor. My mind shuts down and I allow him to lead me wherever. I don’t care anymore.
As soon as we’re out on the secluded side street, a valet pulls up with Fallon’s car.
Fallon buckles me in and drives us back to the hotel as I cry silent tears that don’t want to stop.
I blindly walk into our hotel, and when we enter the suite, he gathers me in a hug.
My head is as heavy as my heart as it drops onto his shoulder.
Carrying me into the living area, he sits us down on one of the sofas.
“I miss them,” I half-drunkenly whisper, like I’m telling a secret that I don’t want anyone else to hear.
“Who?”
My parents. My sister. Ryder. Jayson. Julien. I miss them all.
“It’s too much,” I tell him, breaking down into wracking sobs.
The death of my parents. My fear that something horrible has happened to Hailey.
The remorse of what Old Elizabeth had with Jayson.
The loss of what New Elizabeth had been building with Ryder.
I feel it all, and it’s just too much. Pain. Sorrow. Heartbreak. Grief.
“I want my mom,” I finally choke out.
“I know you do,” Fallon says softly. He holds me and lets me cry.
It’s something I hadn’t allowed myself to do much until now, but it’s something that I need to do. When most of my tears have abated, I sit up and dry my face with the heels of my palms.
“Sorry, I’m a blubbering mess,” I apologize.
I get up and walk into the bathroom to blow my nose and splash water on my red, blotchy face.
I wet a tissue to rub under my eyes to get rid of the black smears of runny mascara.
I’m still feeling the aftereffects of the tequila and I vow to never drink again.
When I come back out, Fallon is watching me from the couch.
Walking over to him, I sit down and take a deep breath. “Fallon, what do I do about Jayson and Ryder?”
I decide that I’m strong enough to deal with that particular problem, knowing I’m not ready yet to face what happened to Mom and Dad. Maybe when I go back home. Maybe, I’ll be strong enough then to visit their gravesites.
Fallon takes my hands between his, pulling my thoughts from my morose musings to focus on his intense blue gaze.
“Let’s play a game,” he suggests.
A game? I wasn’t expecting that.
“Close your eyes,” he tells me.
I give him a surly look. “What—"
He cuts me off. “Nope. No questions. Just close your eyes, kitten.”
I do.
“Who do you see? Jayson or Ryder?”
Without hesitation, I reply, “Both of them.”
“Then you’re not ready.”
“Not ready?” I ask in confusion.
“You can’t have both, kitten. Once you make your choice, then you’ll be ready.” Fallon shifts on the sofa beside me. “Come here,” he says, and pulls me into his arms.
I’m tipsy and sad, and my eyes burn from crying. I snuggle into Fallon’s warm body and listen to his heartbeat. I imagine I’m hearing Ryder’s heart thumping a steady rhythm. Old Elizabeth imagines it’s Jayson’s and remembers all the times she would fall asleep with her head resting on his chest.
“I hate you,” I tell her in a slurred murmur before I fall asleep.