A Is for Alpha Male (31 page)

In that moment, Danny’s face shut down. I watched it turn out the lights, sweep the floors, put the chairs upside down on the tables, and shut down for the night, his eyelids lowering and taking the fire out of his eyes as they went. And then he dropped my now lifeless hand. His chest heaved once, his hands clenching into fists at the end of his arms that hung loosely at the sides of his body.

And then I watched him walk away from me.

And back to her.

Right now, I wanted to punch Alfred Tennyson in the fucking throat. It didn’t feel better to have loved and lost.

It didn’t feel better at all.

CURLING UP ON my deep brown, fluffy, chenille couch, I cried. I shut everything out, turned off my positive attitude, and just let myself break down. Sobs wracked my body, and I feared dehydration from the loss of water weight lost in tears.

I had driven all night, having to pull over several times to get my crying under control so that I could see where I was going.

Other people certainly had bigger problems, but this was
my
problem.

This was
my
heartbreak.

And worst of all, it had led to me questioning my judgment. When you’re so sure something is right, that someone is genuine, and you find out that it isn’t, and that they aren’t, it’s hard to know where to go from there.

I thought I found what I was looking for.

No, I
had
found what I was looking for. But maybe I should have been looking for something different.

The truth was that I just didn’t know the answer anymore.

I knew this wasn’t the end of the world. I knew this wouldn’t break my spirit beyond repair, turning me into a hollow shell of my previous self.

But for the time being, it was devastating.

And part of being honest with myself was letting myself have honest reactions.

If I felt upset, I was allowed to be upset.

Simple as that.

It wasn’t long before I felt Allison’s arms wrap themselves around me and squeeze me tight. Or maybe it was long; I didn’t know. The concept of time had slipped away, clouded and confused by the frequency and intensity of my tears.

I didn’t know how she knew to come over, how she knew that I needed her, but I was just thankful that she did.

I was vaguely aware of Hunter opening my door, taking two steps in, but turning right back around and leaving the second he saw the state of me.

Women crying and all that, I supposed.

When the door clicked behind him, Allison squeezed me tighter, her small hands not doing enough to ease the ache left behind by Danny’s large ones.

“He didn’t choose me,” I cried to my mama, burying my head into her sweet smelling neck and inhaling the familiar and comforting scent of my mom.

She didn’t say anything, just held me tighter and rocked back forth like only moms knew how to do.

“I saw him with that effing slut, and still, like a stupid idiot, I gave him the choice to choose me! I wanted him that badly,” I coughed out between sobs, my mom’s shirt acting as a stress ball for my clinched fist.

“Why couldn’t he choose me?” I whined, adding the unreasonable, “Why wasn’t I good enough for him?” on the end.

Allison said nothing other than a simple, “I love you, baby girl,” letting me cry my eyes out until I couldn’t cry anymore. Letting me say crazy and irrational things until I got them all out, draining the toxins out of my body along with them.

Time passed uncounted, and my face had never been quite so swollen and blotchy.

But finally, after a couple of hours, I felt lighter, and I let myself fall asleep in the curve of my mom’s arms, her fingernails scratching softly along my scalp before trailing down through the ends of my hair.

Faced with one of the most emotionally exhausting turmoils of my life, I still found comfort from my best friend.

My mom had my back through thick and thin.

She didn’t judge me when I ranted. She didn’t judge me when I whined. She didn’t give me some speech about how it was ridiculous to cry over some guy when other people had Cancer. She just let me be me.

And I knew she would be there for me until she couldn’t be anymore.

Once I calmed down, I also knew she would be the voice of reason, pointing out my snap judgments and helping me to decide how to move forward.

I had gotten it wrong before. M wasn’t for Manly. It was for Mothereffing Mom.

Two days later, I was finally ready to leave the sanctuary of my apartment.

I had consumed outrageous amounts of Cookies ‘n Cream ice cream and vodka, and had spent several hours watching Rom Coms while yelling about what a dirty scoundrel the guy secretly was.

It felt good. But if I told you I felt right, you would be well within your rights to call me a lying bitch.

But it was time to go out, to go back to living my life, and to make the money that was necessary to live.

I had a two thirty meeting at the Knoxville News Sentinel about the article I was planning to write about our road trip, and I was cutting it close by leaving my house at two o’clock. With traffic it was going to be a push.

I closed and locked my door, my coke in one hand, my keys in the other, and my black, quilted purse on my shoulder.

When I turned to leave, the last thing I expected to see was the Antichrist, but that was what I got.

“Danny,” I said, disdain dripping from my voice even though I had tried to keep it even.

“Hales,” he said, fucking gutting me like the bastard he was.

Seconds away from telling him exactly what I thought of him, I saw my brother standing diagonally behind him, about ten feet back.

“What’s Hunter doing here?” I asked cautiously, not liking the looks of this setup at all.

It reeked of ambush. I just couldn’t figure out why my brother would be a party to it.

“I needed backup,” Danny explained, his thumbs tucked casually into his front jeans pockets.

“And he volunteered to do the job?” I queried acidly, my eyes roving over my ex-brother with disgust.

When Hunter’s guilty eyes lifted to mine, I told him, “You, Brother, are a fucking traitor,” my arm extended and my finger pointing in accusation.

Danny reached out and grabbed my hand, something that amped me up even more, but ignored my glare and pressed on. “Hales, listen. There is way more to this story than you’re aware of, so please just give me a chance to explain.”

When he didn’t say anything, seemingly waiting for me to turn him down, I rolled my eyes and snapped, “So explain already! Of course I’m going to at least give you a freaking chance to explain! I’m not a Nazi or something equally as evil. Jesus.”

I had really wanted to deny him the explanation, but I wanted to do the unexpected more. I wanted to be in control of this confrontation. It was my only hope of coming out of it looking like myself.

Plus, I was on a schedule. Good thing my employer was used to a lack of punctuality from me.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a ginormous handful of lavender ponytail holders, organized them, and slipped them onto his wrist.

Realizing where all of my ponytail holders had gone all of those times, I grumbled, “My, my, my, what sticky fingers you have, Gramma.” Shaking my head slowly back and forth, I muttered, “Man, you are one talented pick pocket, Dan-o. You have a real gift for petty crime. Good tidings for the future.”

One corner of his mouth just barely lifted into a smirk, likely knowing that it would only serve to anger me further if he started to find me amusing.

“I took one every time I saw you, Hales. Just couldn’t help myself,” he explained.

That was either really sweet or really weird. Considering I was still mad at him, I opted for weird.

“You’re a weirdo.”

He just shook his head, his eyes warm and inviting, and told me, “Count them.”

I did, two times in fact, but I really wasn’t getting the point.

“Maybe I’m a little slow, but you’re going to have to fill in the blanks here.”

“I’ve only seen you nine times, but I have ten hair ties,” he told me, and I was just going to take his word for it because it was too complicated to do my own count.

“Maybe you just raided my bag,” I snarked. “We’ve already discussed your propensity to steal things.”

Danny didn’t answer. Instead he looked straight at me, heaved a deep breath, and then rocked my world. “The first one I took was quite a long time ago. And the only thing that was fully developed on you were your insults. You were just a sarcastic, attitude ridden six year old.”

My head snapped up, and my eyes zeroed in on Danny’s face, studying it for familiarity. That was a lot of fucking years ago, but there was a niggling in the back of my brain telling me I had always seen something. Why else would I have been so comfortable with him from the very start?

Closing my eyes, I whispered, “Ryan Parker.”

My eyes were still shut tight, but I felt his rough hand cup my cheek gently as he said, “In the flesh, baby doll.”

Realization hit, and I immediately saw red.

He wasn’t just a liar, he was also a little backward in his priorities.

“You fucking told Hunter who you were before me?!” I shouted as I opened my eyes into a death stare, knocking his hand off of my cheek in the process. “I’ve got to tell you, that seriously pisses me off. And you’ve already topped up your piss off Haley jar. It’s over-fucking-flowing, Asshole, and I hate cleaning up a mess.”

He may have been Hunter’s childhood best friend, but I was pretty sure he hadn’t had his dick inside of my brother.

At least, I hoped not.

“Fuck me, Hales. I love your drama, but can you cut it out for two fucking seconds?” Danny/Ryan demanded.

“I didn’t choose to tell Hunter first. He came to Alabama to kick my ass. Something about making his hard as nails, kick ass, funny as shit sister cry. He just got more than he bargained for,” he explained.

At this point, Hunter chimed in, stating, “Yeah. It was one fuck of a kick in the balls when I realized who he was.”

Clearly, being men, they hadn’t even realized what they had said.

Danny hadn’t been searching Knoxville for me, trying to make things right.

He was still back in Alabama, and he only came after me after he got stupid visit from my big brother.

Real fucking flattering.

Shaking my head at Hunter’s remarks, I focused on Danny and said, “That was a fucking fantastic speech you gave me that night. Very convincing. ‘Call me Roper, or Eagle, or Gandalf the Wizard’,” I mocked. “Of course you didn’t give a shit what I called you. Danny’s not even your real name.” I saw a flash of pain in his eyes, but I plowed forward anyway. “You also had another woman in your arms and your hands on her ass one night after you fucked me for four days straight.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hunter cringe in the background.

Served him right.

“And I know it’s not something you forgot. You don’t ever fucking forget,” I practically spat, throwing his words back in his face.

Shoving past both of them, I headed for my car, despite the protests of Danny
and
Hunter behind my back. I knew it was immature and maybe I would change my mind later, but I could do nothing to stop myself.

Danny had wrecked me. When I went to see him that night, all of my hopes and dreams beaming bright out of my eyes for all the world to see, and then found him in a clench with another woman, I was crushed.

But I had been fucking devastated when he didn’t choose me afterward.

I wasn’t ready to let that go. And if I was honest I didn’t know if I would ever be.