Finding A Way (18 page)

“Ya got the good stuff!” Trent boasts, reaching for the bottle and a shot glass. “You wanna get wasted with me, Callie?” he asks.

She grins, looking up at me.

“Absolutely.”

Trent pours two shots as I take my seat next to Callie. I place my arm around the back of her chair, hoping Trent will get the hint to back the fuck off of her. He doesn't. He slides her glass toward her, waggling his eyebrows, and continues to talk.

“Ya know, Mac should’ve gotten some tequila. Then we could’ve done body shots. We used to do that shit back in the day at the rippahs I used to throw.”

Just the thought of him sucking tequila off her stomach makes me grip the back of the chair a little harder. I suppress my anger which boils in my veins. Callie lets out a nervous laugh as she moves in a little closer before bringing her shot to her lips. She throws it back just as Trent does the same. She coughs hard and I give her shoulder a little squeeze, laughing quietly at her.

“You good, Red?” I ask.

She turns to look at me, smiling from happiness or the buzz that shot probably just gave her. I’m not too sure, but I take what I can get. Seeing her smile makes my heart ache. I really don’t think she knows how gorgeous she is. I don’t think she understands how bad I want every one of her smiles to be mine.

Trent draws her attention, asking if she wants another. She answers him saying she does, and they both throw back another. They go shot for shot. Callie seeming a bit more buzzed each time.

This is gonna be interesting.

Once the both of them are three-quarters of the way done with the bottle, I notice how drunk Callie really is. She seemed okay when they were shooting them back, but I guess it’s all catching up with her now. She’s more giggly than usual, and she’s definitely cuddlier. She’s almost sitting in my lap now, even though I’m gonna stop her. It’s where she belongs anyways. Her speech is slurred as she asks Trent to pour her another, but I stop him before he can.

“She's done man,” I tell him seriously.

Trent looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped him from getting a chick plastered in my life, but not this time. Callie’s head falls into my chest with a hard thud. My shirt is muffling her voice, making her incoherent. I’m sure she said she feels sick, but I can’t quite hear her.

I lift her chin and ask her what she said. She’s definitely drunk. Her beautiful blue eyes are glossed over and red from the liquor.

“Sick,” she slurs again.

“All right Red. I got you covered. Come on, I’ll take you home.” I stand us up, keeping a tight grip on her, but she stumbles on her feet.

Trent protests to us leaving, but I shoot him a look which makes him shut up quickly. As we make our way out of the bar to my truck, Callie covers her mouth with her face turning green.

“You all right?” I ask her, praying she makes it to her apartment without throwing up in my truck.

“Why are you so nice to me?” she slurs, stopping us both in the middle of the parking lot.

I let out a sigh, contemplating on telling her the truth since she won’t remember anything tomorrow morning anyways. I lie, because my luck she'd remember this all. I’d tell her I want her and she’d remember every single word.

“We’re friends Red, that’s what friends do.” I sigh, leading her to the truck again.

“You don’t act like a friend,” she slurs again.

I blow out a long breath, moving so I’m facing her. I look into her eyes, seeing her expression totally serious.

“Why, don’t I act like a friend?” I ask her.

She rolls her eyes at me dramatically, answering me.

“You want me, then you don’t. You’re confusing. It makes my head hurt.”

Her speech is shot to hell, and I know this is the whiskey talking, so I ignore her and continue moving her toward the truck again. I hear her talking again, but I can’t understand her.

We get to the truck and I open the door, lifting her up by the hips and placing her in the passenger seat of my pick up. She’s so damn tiny; I could pick her up like she’s nothing. She makes me feel like a giant.

The ride back to her apartment was quiet considering she was in and out of it from the booze. I shouldn’t have even let her drink that much. She’s gonna be hung-over as fuck in the morning, and that's gonna make me feel like shit, too. She seemed fine until she slurred her words and shit. I knew it was time to go.

I get her out of the truck and into the house pretty easily. She wasn’t up for much walking so she didn’t seem to care.

I walk upstairs, kicking her door open with my boot, and lay her down in her bed. My sense of smell goes into overdrive standing in her room. Her smell surrounds me and I fucking love it. It’s wild and intoxicating. My pulse quickens while my nose takes it all in. Lilies. She smells like fucking lilies. Everything about her smells like mother fucking lilies.

She stirs a little, turning to look at me. I’m guessing she’s still seeing three of me.

“Are you leaving now?”

I place a soft kiss in her hair like I did the night before.

“Yeah, Red. You need some sleep or you're gonna feel like shit in the morning. I’ll text you when I wake up.”

I start to walk away, but she reaches out, grabbing my hand in hers and pulling me back to her. I look at her again, confused to why she would pull me back.
She’s drunk.
I tell myself. Maybe she doesn’t realize what she’s doing.

“Stay,” she pleads with me, her voice a little clearer than it’s been.

I search her face for any sign she doesn’t mean it, but all I can see are her eyes pleading with me not to leave her. The redness has faded a little bit, returning them to their original blue.

I run my hand through my hair, sighing loudly.
Do I stay or do I go?
The question bounces back and forth through my head like a pinball machine. I choose to stay.

I take a seat on the end of her bed, my back turned to her. This girl is gonna be the goddamn death of me. She has me wrapped around her little finger and it’s only been a couple days. I can only imagine what would happen over a month’s time.

I feel her sit up and rest her head on my back, her arms wrapping around my waist.

“Just lie with me. I don’t wanna be alone,” she says softly, rubbing my stomach through my shirt.

There is still a slur to her voice, but I can hear her clearer now than before. What am I even doing? I shouldn’t be contemplating lying down with her, let alone sitting on her bed. Her voice echoes in her room.

“Please,” she pleads again.

Fuck.

I reach down to take off my boots and climb in bed next to her, lying on top of her covers. The only light in the room is a small end table lamp next to her which illuminates every aspect of her face. She shuffles close, lays her head in the crook of my arm, and wraps her arm around my stomach. I feel her breathing slow, and before I know it, she closes her eyes, going silent.

“Tell me about her,” she whispers, her eyes still closed.

I take a minute to realize she's referring to the girl I talked about last night. I run my hand through my hair, closing my eyes.
Leah.

I don’t wanna get into this shit right now. I just want to concentrate on Callie and me. That’s it. I don’t want to think about Leah and I sure as hell don’t want to think about Caroline, but it looks like that’s what the topic of tonight is going to be.

“Her name was Leah,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady and emotionless.

She doesn’t speak as I continue my story.

“Look Red, before I get into this. I want you to know I was into some bad shit when this all happened, but I’m not that way anymore. I haven't touched any shit in a very long time. I’ve been clean ever since. I’ll never turn into that person again and I need you to promise not to judge me for the things I’ve done."

She opens her eyes briefly, speaking softly.

“I promise.”

I let out a sigh again, this time a little longer, but still I start to tell my story to her about the girl who made me who I am today. A cocky, arrogant bastard who uses women for a living. A man who refuses to get attached. A man who only gets and wants one thing from women—a quick lay.

“I used to sell drugs, Red. Not only did I sell them, but I used them too, heavily. Leah also used them. We met one day when one of the bigger dealers around town was roughing her up in the middle of the street. I don’t fucking condone that kind of shit. So, I was happy to give the fucker a beating, a taste of his own medicine. She was so thin from using that he would have easily broken her in two if he kept hitting her. I ended up beating the fuck out of him and taking Leah back to the apartment I was living in. She was so fucked up, and she had nowhere to go…”

All of those old feelings start to stir when I picture the way she looked. Her eyes black from the asshole punching her repeatedly. Her bones showing through her clothing from being too skinny. Heroine will do that to you. It’s a mother fucker. It kills your soul before it kills your mind and body.

Callie nudges me, waiting for me to continue.

“I helped her you know? I got her clean, and I got clean myself. I took care of her, and I got a real job. One which supported us and her younger sister Caroline. I wanted everything with her. The wedding, the house, the kids. I wanted it all. We got together, we dated, and she and Caroline lived with me. We spent every moment together when I wasn’t working. Leah was beautiful once she gained her weight back and her face healed. I couldn’t stop looking at her every day. It amazed me how much drugs had taken from her. She was good for a while, she didn’t touch the things. I warned everyone on the street I knew not to go near her with any type of shit they were selling. I threatened every one of them. She never acted like she missed using. So, I never suspected she still was until I got a call from my buddy who let me know she was being taken in an ambulance downtown.”

I look down at Callie, her eyes watching me as I relive these horrible memories. I see sorrow in her eyes and I fucking hate that. I don’t want anyone feeling bad for me. I don’t want pity; that’s not what I’m after. Leah made her choices, and I’ve come to just accept it.

“I got in my truck, and sped to the hospital looking for her in the emergency room. No one would tell me shit. I wasn’t her legal family and therefore, I had no right or whatever to hear what was happening. I sat in the waiting room like a caged animal for the entire night, waiting for someone to give me something, anything. I was going fucking crazy. Some doctor in a white coat came out and called for me to come in the back. He took me into his office, and I knew whatever he would tell me wasn’t good, but still, I hoped and prayed she was okay. What he told me shocked the hell out of me and I fucking lost it. I trashed his office, screaming at him while he called security to have me escorted out. I was so fucking mad, Callie.”

“Sir, I'm very sorry, but Leah didn't make it. We tried to save the baby, but there was too much toxicity surrounding the fetus. I’m very sorry. I want you to know we tried everything we could. It just wasn’t enough.”

Callie speaks softly again, this time I could hear the tears that shook her voice.

“What happened?”

I look down at her, kissing the top of her head again. There are very few people who know this story, and I’m spilling it all to this beautiful girl lying in my arms who is barely more than a stranger.

“She was pregnant, and neither of them made it,” I speak into her hair.

Callie squeezes me harder this time, placing a gentle kiss on my chest where her head is.

“I’m sorry Mac. What happened to Caroline?”

I give her a little squeeze letting her know it’s okay. I tried to leave out Caroline because she isn't part of this story. She isn't part of Leah and I. Caroline is her own story alone, but I will have to give her something.

“It’s okay Red. Caroline's grandmother took her in.”

We laid in silence until Callie dozed off to sleep. I didn’t want her to feel weird tomorrow with me in her bed so, I left and headed home.

When I walk in the door to my apartment, Nook comes running toward me carrying one of the couch pillows. I shake my head at this dog’s constant need to destroy my house. I just can’t stay mad at her though. She’s too damn cute. I reach for the pillow, trying to take it from her. Instead, she thinks this means I wanna play tug of war because she pulls on it hard, causing it to rip up the middle, stuffing flying everywhere. I try to yell at her, I really do, but I’m emotionally spent after talking to Callie about Leah. Instead of scolding her, I rub her head softly, letting her know it’s bedtime. I’ll clean up the pillow mess in the morning.