Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Blakely
The door to Murphy’s Law was still heavy but much easier to open than the first time I’d attempted it months earlier.
I tugged it open, but Devon quickly stepped up behind me, grabbing the wood and pulling it open the rest of the way. He smiled down at me, and I smiled right the hell back. Because I couldn’t stop. Not when I had everything I ever wanted. It still felt like a dream every once in a while. Like one day I’d wake up and realize the nightmares were my real life, and everything that happened since I’d moved back to Austin was a dream.
But then Devon smiled at me or touched me, and I knew my dream was my reality.
Out of the basement and into my life.
The sound of low rock music, laughter, and clinking glasses greeted us as we stepped through the doors. It was only an hour after opening, so the place wasn’t too crowded yet. People were gathered near the pool tables and around the high-top tables off to the right. And as usual, the bar in the center of the room was packed with patrons .
Grant, the new-ish bartender who’d texted me a few times months ago, was the first to spot us. He waved cautiously and glanced over my shoulder at Devon standing behind me. One look and his eyes darted away, back to cleaning the glass in his hands.
A small smile tugged at my lips, and I shook my head. Men were weird.
But on the opposite side of the bar, I spotted a familiar face I hadn’t seen in ages. I strode to his end of the bar and waved when he noticed me walking toward him.
“Blakely Warrier-West in this bar once again. I can’t believe it,” Grady crooned. The tall, older man lifted the bar flap and held open his arms. I had no choice but to step directly into his embrace. Not that I’d want to do anything different anyway.
He’d been my mentor when I was the manager at Murphy’s. That felt like a lifetime ago, but his embrace was still a balm to my heart. He was always kind and gave out advice like it was candy on Halloween. He wanted to spread the wisdom he’d learned in his old age. Or at least that was what he’d told me.
He stepped back but kept his hands braced on my shoulders, giving me a once-over. “We’ve missed you, kid. But you look good. Happy .”
I smiled. “You look good, too, Grady.”
He waved me off and returned to his spot behind the bar. Retrieving the towel that was permanently stuffed in his back pocket, he began wiping down the already clean surface.
“I’m an old man, looking good as you so nicely put it, is behind me. But it is a treat to get old.” He gave me a fond, warm smile, then pointed toward the back of the bar. “Your posse is over there. Playing darts or something.”
“Nice to see you, too, Grady,” Devon mumbled, pretending like he was offended by Grady’s lack of attention.
As expected, Grady gave him an unamused look and shook his head. “I see you almost too often, Devon. But I am happy to see you two finally together. You know this man has been pining after you forever?—”
“Okay, thanks, Grady,” Devon interrupted. “We all know now, but I appreciate the reminder.” He intertwined his fingers with mine and tried to lead me away from the bar, but I dug in my heels.
“Pining, huh? Is that what you would call it?”
“Yup, the worst pining I’ve ever seen. He was a mess without you. Probably wouldn’t have made it much longer,” Grady said without missing a beat.
Devon sighed loudly behind me, and I turned to look at him. He was massaging his forehead and shaking his head, but I thought Grady’s sentiment, although probably dramatic, was sweet.
“You were a mess without me?” I asked quietly. Devon’s hand dropped, and the frustration marring his expression, heavy between his brows, morphed into sincerity.
His hand squeezed mine, and his chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “Every day, sweetheart.” His voice dropped, and warm, hazel eyes met mine.
“Too freaking cute,” Grady murmured, breaking the moment with all his usual grace.
Devon tugged me to his side and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, steering us toward the corner with our group of friends. “We’ll see you later, Grady,” he called over his shoulder. And I hid my smile against his chest.
“Better late than never,” Luke said by way of greeting, and I cocked my head in confusion at what he was wearing. Or, better yet, who?
“A baby in a bar? Really?” Although it was an odd sight, that didn’t stop me from peeking into the carrier strapped to Luke’s chest. Josie was quietly glancing around the room, big, brown eyes trying to take in everything around her all at once.
“I know, but our babysitter got sick, and finding someone at the last minute is impossible,” Hazel explained from where she was sitting on Luke’s other side. “So, it was either one of us miss hanging out with everyone or bring her with for at least a little while.”
I tapped Josie’s nose and made a face that was only acceptable when trying to make a baby laugh. Her lips tilted up just a touch, which was a win in my book, and any embarrassment I felt immediately disappeared.
“We’re doing the same thing we always do,” Amanda chimed in. She had to push up onto her tiptoes to see in the carrier Luke was wearing and brush her hand over Josie’s head. “It’s not like you would have missed anything.”
“What are you talking about?” Josh asked. “This is thrilling.” Reed, who was seated right next to him, nudged his husband in the arm and shook his head.
Seated at the same table, Ivy shrugged, lifting James’s hand that was resting on her shoulder. “I agree with Josh. And Josie should learn sooner rather than later that she’s likely going to be spending a lot of time in this bar.”
“She’s the new Murphy’s Law mascot!” Amanda exclaimed. “You and Zach will have to share the spotlight, but I don’t think he’ll mind.”
They all descended into conversation about…well, I honestly didn’t know, I wasn’t truly listening. I was more concerned about the fact that I was standing in one of my favorite places—my happy place—with my favorite people.
In my darkest moments, when I was in that basement and I’d lost track of the days or when my stomach felt like it was caving in on itself because I hadn’t eaten in days, I would think about this. I would close my eyes and think about Murphy’s Law and my friends. I swore I could hear their laughter over the steady thump of music and smell the nostalgic scent of beer and fried food.
The image in my mind was so vivid, I could make out the rips on the seats of the old barstools and the exact placement of the signs lining the walls. It was my comfort when there was only pain.
Yet, in the end, I’d been the one to dole out the last bit of pain. So entrenched in my rage, I didn’t think about the aftermath of my revenge. How it would feel to know that I’d inflicted punishment without remorse. How I would react knowing that it felt good to watch Jeffrey cry and bleed and beg.
While I was carving that word— unbroken —into his skin, I swore it was Valerie sitting in that chair. I would look up and his face would morph into hers, then back again. Her venomous smile and hateful words garbled by the sounds of her plea-filled sobs. I imagined that it was her sitting in that chair, and I was not only enacting retribution for myself but for everyone else she’d hurt. For everyone else standing around me in that bar.
I hoped she was looking up from her special place in hell to see how unimpactful she truly had been. Because that would have been her worst nightmare: to become an afterthought.
And considering all of that, considering what Valerie and Jeffrey had done to us all, I looked back on my time wielding that knife with his blood on my fingers with fondness.
I would never regret it. It was more than deserved, and honestly, he was lucky I didn’t inflict worse. His answers to my questions weren’t as satisfying as I expected, but those answers no longer felt important. The “why” wasn’t fundamental to the story.
All that mattered was that they were gone, and we were still here.
“…next week. What do you want to do?”
Done with my dark reminiscence, I tuned back into the conversation. “What’s next week?”
“James’s birthday,” Ivy supplied.
“Blakely’s is the week after,” Devon added, appearing behind me with two drinks in his hands. He offered me one, and I took it with a smile. Honestly, my birthday had been the last thing on my mind. I’d been more focused on the possibility of a trial and moving that I hadn’t thought about turning another year older. With everything else that had happened, it didn’t seem like a big deal.
“We could have a joint birthday. Just like old times.” James laughed. He turned to Ivy, who hadn’t been there during our college and post-college days, to witness the crazy birthdays we’d thrown. “With birthdays two weeks apart, Blake and I almost always celebrated together.”
“Those parties were insane,” Luke added. Everyone else agreed in turn, and I shook my head.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said to James directly. “You deserve to have your own party. You don’t have to celebrate…with me.”
“Blake, you’re back. We should celebrate together.” He said it like it was a foregone conclusion, his blue eyes shining bright with honesty.
“I’ll plan it,” Ivy volunteered.
“And I’ll assist,” Amanda added, who was quickly seconded by Josh.
Amazed that they were all willing to go through the trouble, I stared dumbfounded at the group. They began discussing a few details, asking for mine and James’s opinions every once in a while as we sipped our drinks.
Eventually, I started a game of darts with Amanda, Josh, and Luke. Josie fell asleep sometime in the middle of our game and didn’t seem to mind when the volume in the bar increased the later it got. We played pool and danced and laughed.
An hour or two later, and a few drinks in—for the rest of them—we found ourselves back around two tables we’d pushed together.
Devon’s warm breath swept over my neck. His lips ghosted over my skin, and his hand slid from where it had been drawing idle circles on my back to around my waist. The other hand climbed higher up the short skirt of my dress, skimming the inside of my thigh. Chills whipped down my spine and covered my arms and legs just from the simple, light touch. I turned to look at him but didn’t get a chance to enjoy the look in his eyes when someone called my name.
“B-dubs?”
“Yeah?” I asked, whipping around to identify the person who’d said it.
“They asked what was going on with your case,” Devon said in a low voice. He kissed my neck again before removing his hand from my thigh and sitting back. He took a sip of his drink like he hadn’t been the entire reason my attention was divided.
“Have they come to a deal yet?” Amanda asked.
“Not yet. He’s still holding out.”
Looking around the table, they all appeared outraged on my behalf. “He’s trying to make her suffer one last time,” Devon explained. And although we couldn’t be certain, it was the theory that made the most sense.
“What a piece of shit,” James muttered, and they all agreed, calling Jeffrey one name after the other. I enjoyed their imaginations and the colorful versions of old favorites they came up with.
Devon’s hand was a solid, unmoving presence on my back, and I felt myself lean into it.
“But you’re doing okay, right?” Hazel asked. She rested her hand on my thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze. One that was meant to convey her genuineness and did just that.
I took a deep breath and glanced around the table again. They’d all stopped talking and were staring at me expectantly.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Knowing that no matter what happens next, I have my family with me”—I motioned to my best friends with one hand and rested the other on Devon’s leg—“how could I not be okay?”
“Damn right!” Josh shouted, lifting his glass in the air. Luke shushed him and motioned to the sleeping baby on his chest .
“It will be over soon,” Amanda said. “There is a light at the end of the tunnel.”
“There is,” I agreed, soaking up the happiness and joy I felt radiating from each of them. “But that light feels like it’s just the beginning.”
The End