Chapter 12 #2
Her eyes struggle to focus before they finally land on me.
“My baby!” she slurs, her face lighting up as she throws her arms around me, pulling me into a hug that’s too tight, too unsteady.
The smell of alcohol hits me hard, sharp enough to make my stomach twist.
“I missed you,” she murmurs against my hair, her words thick and uneven.
“I’m here,” I whisper, even though it doesn’t feel like enough. It never does. “Let’s get you home, okay? Can you walk?”
She tries. God, she tries.
But the second she pushes off the stool, her legs buckle, and I barely manage to catch her before she hits the floor.
“I’ve got her.”
Dex’s voice comes from behind me, calm, steady, like this doesn’t faze him at all.
Before I can protest, he steps in, one arm sliding around her back, the other under her legs, lifting her like she weighs nothing.
She doesn’t even react.
Her head falls against his shoulder, and within seconds, she’s out. Passed out like this is just another night.
I stand there for a moment, frozen, heat creeping up my neck, spreading across my cheeks.
I didn’t want him to see this. Any of this.
“Ready?” Dex asks, already turning toward the door.
I nod quickly, swallowing down the lump in my throat and following him outside.
The drive to the trailer park is quiet. Too quiet. I stare out the window, watching the dark blur past, my hands twisted together in my lap. I can feel Dex beside me, steady and present, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t push. And somehow that makes it worse.
When we pull in, the familiar sight of rusted trailers and broken fences settles heavy in my chest. This place never changes.
Thankfully Russel isn’t there.
Dex kills the engine, then glances at me. “You got the door?”
I nod and step out, my boots crunching against the gravel as I hurry ahead to unlock it.
The door sticks like it always does. I have to shove my shoulder into it before it finally gives, swinging open with a creak that echoes too loudly in the quiet.
The smell hits immediately.
Stale alcohol. Old food. Something damp and wrong underneath it all.
I hesitate for half a second.
Then I step inside.
Dex follows behind me, still carrying her, his presence filling the space in a way that makes everything feel smaller, tighter. Worse.
I move quickly, clearing a path through the clutter, pushing aside empty bottles, clothes, things that shouldn’t be there but always are.
“Bedroom,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nods and carries her down the short hallway, ducking slightly under the low frame as he steps into the room.
The bed is unmade, sheets twisted and stained, but it’s the best option we have.
He lowers her carefully, adjusting her so she doesn’t roll off, pulling a blanket over her like it matters. Like any of this does.
I stand in the doorway, arms wrapped around myself, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow me whole.
“I’m sorry,” I say finally, the words scraping their way out of my throat.
? ? ?
Dexter
The place is worse than I expected.
And I expected bad.
The smell alone is enough to make most people turn around and walk right back out, but Lexy doesn’t even flinch. She moves through it like she’s done it a hundred times before.
Because she has.
I glance around, taking in the mess, the emptiness hidden under all the clutter, and something low and sharp settles in my chest.
She grew up in this.
Raised her little brother in it. Held everything together while her mother checked out.
That’s not weakness.
That’s someone who fought through hell and didn’t fold.
I don’t feel pity. Not even close.
I feel something heavier. Something that cracks a part of my soul and refuses to move.
I look at Lexy as she sets some aspirin and water next to her sleeping mother. “Night, Mama.” She kisses her forehead and turns on the small heater. Then she walks past me into another small room and comes back out with a small bag.
“My dad’s pictures.” She shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I didn’t get to take them the last time I…” She doesn’t finish, and she doesn’t have to. I remember how she arrived at the bar. Bruised, lost, and hungry.
She shouldn’t be here. Not in this place. Not in this life.
And for the first time since she walked into my bar, I stop thinking about how to keep my distance.
And start thinking about how to get her the hell out of this life for good.
? ? ?
Alexis
“Is it okay if we ride back to Lander for the junk food?” he asks as we get back into his truck, and I gape at him.
“You don’t have to. You already did too much, and my mother… I’m so sorry.”
“You’re not your mother, and losing a husband like that must have been hard.” He searches my face. He’s not asking me about her or the trailer I lived in, and for that I am grateful.
“You lived through the worst and are building your life up again. That’s not something to be ashamed of. That is something to be proud of.” He looks away after a moment. “Anyway, I already told you, this is blue day, so tell me, is junk food burgers and fries or more like pizza?”
I stare at him, no words forming.
“Chinese? Popcorn? Chips? Oooh, tacos?” He smiles, and I start laughing.
“You know what? You choose, but on one condition.” I smile. “You let me treat you, to thank you for giving me my blue day and helping with my mom.”
I wait for his answer as he looks conflicted.
“How about I pay for dinner and you can pay for dessert?” he sighs.
I shake my head. “I pay for dinner, and you pay for dessert.”
He nods. “Okay, but next time, if we ever need to order takeout, it’s on me, okay?”
I nod, and he starts the truck.
We end up getting pizza from a town over and bringing it back to the apartment because the snow is picking up and the roads aren’t safe.
As soon as we open the front door, Marvel struts toward us and starts rubbing against our legs, as if he wants to tell us he missed us. Dex puts the pizza boxes on the kitchen island as I take my coat off and pick Marvel up. I kiss his soft head.
“I missed you too, buddy.”
I feel eyes on me and find Dex staring. Then he clears his throat, turns, and opens the fridge.
“Water, soda, or beer?” he asks.
“Soda is fine.” I take a seat, and Dex sits next to me.
Then the music turns on, and I startle.
“I hope this is okay.” Dex looks uncertain, and I listen and recognize it. Ennio Morricone’s Love Theme. I smile at him and nod.
“It’s perfect.”
We eat while we listen to my father’s favorite music. Then Dex makes some popcorn, and we watch my father’s favorite movie, Once Upon a Time in America , Marvel curled up on the blanket between us, purring away while outside the snow picks up even more.
Blue day is never an easy day, but Dex makes it bearable, giving me space to feel everything without trying to fix it, just staying, just being there in a way that somehow makes the grief feel less lonely.
For the first time today, I feel like I can breathe again.
The ache is still there, but it doesn’t feel like it’s crushing me from the inside out.
Dex… he makes it easier to feel it without breaking.