“Watch your fucking mouth, Fischer.” Sully puts himself in front of Elle.
I note that Theo just stands back and lets Sully stand up for Elle. He’s actually not saying much since the initial claim that Lee was his kid. I shake off the strange feeling just as Jakob puffs his chest out, his body fills with adrenaline, and it should. He’s surrounded by Byrne men and their associates. He’s the odd man out here.
“Then back off my fucking sister, Byrne.” He grounds out.
Rowan steps between them, placing his hands on each man’s chest. Luckily everyone else is mingling and having a great time. If you aren’t standing in our group, you have no idea what’s happening.
“Both of you calm the fuck down, or you can both leave.” He looks at Jake, “You cool, Fischer?”
His jaw clenches like he wants to argue but must think better of it because he just nods.
Roe turns his attention to our baby brother next, “Sully?” His voice brokers no arguments.
“I’m fine.” He practically snarls just as Jakob turns and pushes away from the crowd. No doubt finding somewhere quiet to wait until his ‘sister’ is ready to go.
“Yeah, it sounds that way.” Rowan lets out a humorless laugh. “Elle, sweetheart, can you two go find Flynn and the rest of your motley crew? I saw them sneaking to the side of the house earlier, and only God knows what they’re up to.”
Elle’s smile is light and genuine as she answers him, “I’m on it, Roe. You know I’ll keep them in line. Come on, monster.” She drags my brother, who practically doubles her in size, by the hand, and just like every other time, Sully follows Boo wherever she may lead him.
“First off, what the fuck was that fucking host of the year bullshit act?” I sneer at Kieran, turning my aggression on him.
“It’s my wedding, I’m not feeling stabby today. Don’t push it, Mac. I’d hate to get twitchy with you for ruining my day.”
I roll my eyes at him, “You’re not going to stab me, asshole.”
“And you’re not going to ruin my wedding by showing your ass over a girl you don’t know but think you do.” Ah, there it is. He’s blind if he doesn’t see it.
“You’re going to look me in the eyes after looking at Elle and seriously tell me you don’t believe that’s Riley?” I snap at Kieran.
“Does she bear a resemblance to Elle? Yes, she does. But does she look identical to her? No. She looks just as much like Fischer as she does Elle. You know what we know. I know it’s hard to grasp, but Riley’s gone. You have to process and accept that.” He’s practically pleading with me, but I don’t care. I don’t have to accept shit.
Why the fuck is Rossi staying silent still? I look over at him and see he’s so engrossed in watching her that I don’t think he would have heard a bomb drop right next to him. Looking around to everyone else who remains, I can’t help the burning desire to get out of here and away from my brothers and the woman who claims she isn’t the best friend I lost fifteen yearsago, even though every atom that makes me up tells me that’s bullshit.
I give everyone a mock salute as I begin to walk away, “I’m out of here.” I can feel their eyes burning holes into my back as I swipe a brand new bottle of my favorite whiskey and head upstairs to my room.
I look cool, calm, and collected from the outside. But inside I feel like my lungs have shriveled to the size of grapes. I’m fighting hard just to breathe. I feel like the air has been sucked out of this space. I can’t do this anymore.
Making my way to my favorite place to drink by myself, my ass falls to the ground and my back leans against the side of the tub. Tipping up the bottle, I take a few swallows before bringing it down. My pistol digs into my back so I take it out and hold it in my hands. Taking another few drinks from the bottle, I turn the gun over in my hand, examining it as my mind races.
It’d be so easy to just pull the trigger and end it all. Then I could be with Riley again. They say she isn’t the woman downstairs, which means she’s really dead. I’ve done this same routine countless times at this point. Always so close to pulling it, but never quite having the balls to. Right as I make the decision to finally go through with it after all these years of thinking about it, the bathroom door bursts open and my nephew barges in.
Rhett’s six years old. His brown curly hair is as long as mine, and his inquisitive hazel eyes are a perfect mix between his mom’s and my brother’s. Quickly shoving the gun behind my back like a teenager who just got caught with his first beer, Rhett’s eyes study me.
“What are you doing Uncle Mac?” His hands move in timewith his words. Rhett was born deaf. He has cochlear implants now, but years of using ASL means he still signs as he talks.
Freeing my hands to do the same, I answer him. “I’m just sad, Little Bear. I like to come here to think when I’m really sad.”
Rhett thinks that over for a second before moving over to me and getting in my lap.
“I like to hide when I’m sad too. Can I hide with you?”
“What are you sad for?” I’ll slay any and everything that causes him an ounce of sadness.
“Well, I’m sad because you’re sad, of course.”Fuck, way to make me hate myself more than I already do, Bear.
Wrapping my arms around his small frame, I bury my face in his soft hair and inhale. He’s so empathetic and sweet. He gets that from his mama. Rocking him gently side to side, I wait until his breath evens out. I can’t do this to him. If he had been thirty seconds later, he would have been the one to find me. That can’t be a part of his story. I may not be able to stop drinking for him, but I can stay alive for him. It would absolutely destroy him to lose one of us, and I can’t be the one to do that to him. I won’t be another topic he has to discuss in therapy one day.
* * *
