Chapter 9
Nine
Mabel
With a hard scowl painted across my face, I’ve got a horrible feeling this is going to be my face for a while now.
Maverick Bennett is standing on the stage, with his brother, about to sing a fucking song in my favourite bar in the world.
What a way to put an even bigger downer on my already screwed up Friday night.
My frown softens as I throw my glance in Jake’s direction. I won’t blame Jake for being happy to see his brother, I mean he’s his big brother after all and his loyalties do lie with him, unfortunately.
He adored him growing up.
Maverick was his hero.
“Well, no wonder you’ve been knocking back drinks like the rapture is about the hit.” Hope leans into me, wresting her arm on my shoulder
“Did you know he was back?” Iris gasps, her hands refusing to leave her mouth, her big brown eyes wide since the Asshat timidly strolled through the bar causing all sorts of commotion.
I shrug, feeling defeated.
Mack refills the tequila glasses that I’m practically now shoving down my throat.
“Holy shit!” Luke laughs, placing one arm on the bar.
“Not funny, honey.” Hope scowls at him, still leaning on my shoulder, even though I wish she’d move it.
Over the years I’ve become less touchy feely. The thought of someone else touching me without permission never sat right with me, more so after Ellie was born.
Luke laughs, showing no sign of letting up. “I’m… so… so sorry… Mabe’s,” He’s splutters out, struggling to catch his breath. I roll my eyes. Iris throws an outstanding punch to his shoulder.
“Ouch!” He gasps, doing his best to compose himself at the situation happening before us.
“I’m sorry, Mabe’s, this isn’t funny. I think I’m in shock.” I can see he’s trying to calm himself down, for mine and his own sake with his wife throwing daggers in his direction.
I roll my eyes at him again, grabbing yet another shot, my eyes gazing into the bottom of the glass.
I’ve got to stop, otherwise mom’s supper will be lining this already sticky ass floor.
I turn my sullen gaze back towards the stage and Mavericks eyes are now boring into my deeply damaged soul. However hard I want to, I will not look away; I will not look at the floor.
I’m angry.
Scratch that, my insides are boiling.
How dare he?
How fucking dare this man not only turn up at my house, then come here and get up on the stage like it’s a God damn welcome home party.
Maverick looks down at the floor in sheer awkwardness, before licking his lips. The music starts picking up and I instantly recognise the song he’s chosen.
Cole has every instrumental known to man when it comes to country songs. How he gets hold of them is beyond me, but right now I couldn’t give two shits about the inner workings of Cole’s music piracy. I take my whiskey to my lips and Maverick starts to sing.
“There’s so much going on in this town…” he begins.
Holy shit, his voice hasn’t changed.
I stumble back, placing my right hand against the bar to steady myself. The memories flooding back, hitting me worse than a wet slap.
The sound that I locked down in a tight box in my memory, sounds exactly how I remember it. My brows soften almost on impact.
People turn as if on instinct and stare at me as the lyrics pour from the man on the stage.
I recognise every face turning to look at me.
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Over the years we’ve had a few newcomers to the town, mainly passers who come one minute, gone the next. Not even a hint they would remember us, or we would remember them at all.
But everyone in this God damn place I find myself in, knows the story.
My story.
They know I was once Maverick Bennett’s girl.
They watched me fall apart at eighteen years old when he left and never spoke to me again, and they watched the thirteen years since it happened, as I tried to piece myself back together.
“Holy shit, he’s singing Sam Hunt’s – Outskirts.” Hope gasps, her eyes wide.
More people turn to stare, the majority an awkward sympathy glare. A few reassuring smiles cross some faces. What these people don’t realise is their smiles are not reassuring; they’re making my heart break more and my anger boil even harder.
My eyes burn holes into his skin. His eyes never looking away from mine. It’s like he’s forgetting that he’s singing in front of a packed dive bar.
The same dive bar in the town I live in, and I will have to keep looking these people in the eye after tonight.
He’s fine, he doesn’t live here anymore.
He wouldn’t reap the repercussions of his idiotic song choice. He’s lucky enough he can fuck back off to wherever he just came from whenever he likes. I’ll still be here, stuck in a time that people round here fail miserably to forget.
The lava boils inside, threatening to explode from my skin and the venom that’s sitting on the tip my tongue. I grip onto my whiskey glass with such strength for a second, I debate on whether I’m going to smash it from the pressure.
I feel a hand touch me and I look over my shoulder, to find Luke giving me the same sympathetic looks everybody else is.
He squeezes my shoulder, but I can’t take my eyes away from the man on the stage.
I feel the tears yet again forming. As the song comes into its second verse, he untenses his shoulders and his hands relax against the microphone.
“What’s he playing at?” Iris mutters to herself, pushing her chestnut curls over her shoulder so they fall in waves down her back.
I shoot my attention back to him.
“Oh fuck, he’s doing it.” Luke leans uncomfortably against the bar.
As Maverick sings the lyrics, his eyes shoot back to me, locking into my eyes.
I’ve got to look away, the tears burning, ready to pour from my eyes and the pain in my chest too much to bear.
“I’m leaving.” I lean into Hope and Iris.
The looks I receive back from them say they understand and they offer a sympathetic smile.
“I can’t watch this shit anymore.” Wrong, your heart can’t take this shit anymore.
“Text us, when your home.” I hear the girls shout as I turn on my heels. I don’t even bother saying anything to anyone else or looking anywhere but the exit.
Trying to squeeze my slender, yet curvy frame through the crowd, I notice something. The crowd are loving him, even at my fucking expense. Even after the stares and the looks.
So-called small-town loyalty.
I mean I’ll give it to them all, they’re all drunk and overcome with God knows what emotion from seeing him again.
Reaching the door, I look over my shoulder one more time. Maverick’s now gotten louder with a tighter grip to the microphone; eyes shut tight, like he isn’t able physically open them, or just won’t.
I don’t think he’s noticed that I’ve left the spot that I was standing in next to the bar. If that song’s for me and I’ll bet good money on it, by this evenings events, amongst everything else that it was for me, then it’s such a dick move to make.
Let’s all laugh at the girl who had her whole life and future ruined when he decided I was no longer good enough for him. Without even a word to let me know.
Just ‘poof’ disappeared.
Pulling the door open, a loud thud escape’s as it bounces back off the wall, I then walk towards my truck. I’m very aware I shouldn’t be driving, but I no longer care.
Get me out of here and get me home.
I knew I shouldn’t have come out tonight.
What a mistake that was.