Chapter 28 Cal
TWENTY-EIGHT
CAL
“I’ll take another,” I said, signaling to the bartender for my fifth shot of whiskey.
My usual two beer limit didn’t apply in this situation, I’d decided.
I wanted to get drunk, hoping it would mask the pain of Amy’s rejection.
Not that alcohol ever made anything better.
If anything, it was the cause of more conflicts not less, but I was in desperate need of anything that could numb the heartache that was threatening to overwhelm me.
The worst part was that she had to bring up Luke in the process. I snarled. In my rational brain, I knew I was being unreasonable, but I didn’t give a shit about being reasonable when the woman I loved had closed the door on a future with me. After she claimed that she loved me.
What was that saying? If you love someone, set them free?
I tried to get my brain to focus, but the whiskey was doing its job and I was having a hard time.
“If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours.
If they don’t, they never were.” I mumbled the words and then shook my head, closing my eyes as the room started to spin.
That saying was bullshit. It didn’t matter if you loved someone or if they loved you.
In the end, it never worked out. Either they left or you did.
Dammit! I downed the shot in one gulp feeling the burn. While I’d eaten earlier, the alcohol still felt like it was burning a hole in my gut. I didn’t care. I slammed the glass onto the bar, and the bartender refilled it.
“You’re going to need a ride home, buddy.” The man leaned on the bar.
“I know that.” I might be drunk, but I wasn’t a fool.
“And you can cut the attitude too. Keys.” The bartender held out his hand and waited until I slapped my truck keys down on the bar. “Thanks. You can pick ’em up tomorrow.” The man took the keys and hung them on a hook behind the bar.
I had never felt so sullen and pissed off.
My brain stumbled through memories, searching for something, anything that I could use to contextualize how I was feeling now.
Not a damn thing came to mind. Not when I broke up with Angie.
Not when I’d run into conflicts on the rodeo circuit with other riders.
Not when I’d decided to take that job with the network.
Not even when I overheard Laura saying that she was looking forward to me leaving.
The worst was that I’d actually convinced myself Amy loved me enough to leave with me. I grimaced. What the hell had I been thinking?
I’d been in love. That’s what I’d been thinking.
And I should have known better since I’d been down this road before.
Love didn’t work out for me. I needed to accept that and move on.
I’d do my part with this damn rodeo and then I’d get the hell out of Poplar Springs just as fast as I could.
Screw the Thornes. I’d been fine before I met them, and I’d be fine after.
Decision made. Now, why the hell didn’t I feel any better?
I’d just put my hand around my glass when a hand clamped on my shoulder and yanked me from the barstool.
Before I could react, a fist connected hard with my jaw.
I staggered back, managing to stay on my feet, and eyed my opponent.
Jake Thorne stood there, his face angry and his hands balled into fists.
“Go on, fight me,” Jake goaded and gave me a shove to the chest. “Come on, dammit.” Jake spoke loudly, attracting attention.
What the hell was this?
“None of that in here,” the bartender said from behind me, but a circle formed around me and Jake, anticipating a fight.
I took a second to think about what I was doing.
I could be the mature adult and walk away, but the set of Jake’s jaw irritated me, and all those shots had me feeling reckless.
Screw it. If my little brother wanted to make the dangerous choice to punch a drunk, heartbroken man with nothing to lose, then Jake was going to get the fight of his life.
I charged forward and swung an uppercut to Jake’s jaw. My brother’s head snapped back, but he returned with a sharp punch to my gut, making me grunt but not back away. We stood close together, exchanging blow for blow, neither one of us teetering.
I took another punch to the jaw and I laughed, embracing the pain. Jake was making it easier for me to walk away and I was okay with that. I threw a punch to his gut that made him double over and cough, but he was quickly back up and swinging.
Dimly, I was aware of the shouts of the crowd, but I didn’t let it distract me.
Jake was tough, younger than me and seasoned from hard work on the ranch, but this wasn’t my first fight.
Hell, it wasn’t my first barfight. I knew what I was doing.
We circled each other, neither of us giving ground and both of us throwing punches that connected.
“Hey, break it up,” a voice called sharply before someone pulled me back and pinned my arms down.
I struggled, but the man had size on me and an iron grip.
I looked up at Jake and saw Brian, dressed in his uniform, holding his twin brother in place.
“What the hell’s wrong with you two?” Brian snapped. “Get them outside.”
The beefy deputy pulled me toward the tavern door, the crowd parting in front of us. It was gratifying to see that Jake was being dragged out by Brian in the same fashion.
“Put them in the back.” Brian opened the door of his SUV.
“Together?” the deputy questioned, looking between me and Jake. “Shouldn’t we at least handcuff them?”
“They’ll behave.” Brian pinned us both with a steely look. “Isn’t that right, brothers?”
Jake held his twin’s gaze for a minute. “Shit, Brian,” he finally muttered and got in.
“Are you arresting us?” I demanded as the cool air brought some reason to me. I hadn’t had a brother until recently, but arresting me and Jake didn’t seem like a brotherly thing to do.
“Damn straight, I am.” Brian shot back. “Get in.”
I climbed into the SUV and dropped my head into my hands. I was already sore all over from the pummeling I’d taken, but all I could do was laugh grimly. For the first time in my life I was in the back of a police vehicle and my own damn brother was at the wheel.
Christ. I’d made a hell of a mess of things.