He hands me one of the shot glasses. I’m really not supposed to overdo it with alcohol, considering my heart defects and the medication I take daily. My liver is already strained, and my blood pressure can get too high if I drink too much.
But tonight, I’m playing a part.
I’m usually Dolly Redford with the heart defects and the sexual trauma.
I’m Dolly Redford whose brother went to prison to save me from getting raped and the consequences are still haunting my family to this day.
Tonight, that changes.
Tonight, I’m Dolly to the rescue. I’m putting this fucked-up situation in the rearview and resolving it once and for all. I’ll do anything to catch this motherfucker haunting my family and me so I can move on. I’ve been scared to date ever since it happened, scared to move out, scared of my own damn shadow.
Not anymore.
I pick up the shot glass, level the guy with a stare, and clink our shot glasses together. “To Cain.”
He looks confused.
Not him.
I swallow the shot, letting it burn down my throat.
He does the same, shaking his head. “Who’s Cain?”
“My boyfriend. Oh, look. It’s time for me to meet up with him. See you later. Thanks for the drink.”
I grab my Jack and Diet Coke and bolt, moving quickly through the growing crowd and hoping he doesn’t follow me. I make it to another bar, posting up and hoping that the guys can all still see me. I adjust the hem of my dress, which has ridden up again, looking around in hopes that Spider Tattoo didn’t follow me.
It happens again.
I get approached by a guy; he buys me a shot, and I toast him, saying, “To Cain,” and he gets this confused look on his face. Then I bolt.
When I get to the next bar, I’m starting to feel the alcohol hit me. I sway, gripping the bar top to steady myself. The crowd is getting thicker. I feel slightly nauseous from all the straight liquor, so I ask the bartender for a Sprite to settle my stomach.
He’s a younger guy with a Mohawk and a tank top that looks like it’s made out of black fishnet stockings. He hands me the Sprite on ice with a lime wedge. I take a slow sip, closing my eyes and wondering if I should just text Holden and tell him I want to be done for the night.
I look down at the bar top, tracing a divot in the epoxy with my fingernail. I had acrylics put on with Rosie today. She wanted to get an update on Sam. I told her what happened between us. She listened without judgment, nodding along at all the right times.
Tears prick my eyes when I think about how much I love my best friend.
Oh shit. I’m drunk. This means I’m drunk.
I feel a presence to my right. I exhale slowly before turning to look, praying it’s one of my brothers to my rescue. Instead, I see Ben.
“Hey, beautiful. What are you up to? Didn’t know you were into heavy metal.”
I lean into him, so grateful to have a familiar face. “Hey. Oh wow. Crazy seeing you here. Um, yeah. My mom loved it so I came just to feel close to her, I guess.” I can hear myself slurring my words.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “You know, I’m glad you’re here alone because we never finished that conversation we started.” He turns to the bartender. “Can we get a round of shots?”
The bartender serves us two shots of clear liquid. I wish it was just water. Ben hands me mine and clinks our glasses together.
“To Cain,” I say out of habit before tossing the liquid back over my lips.
I forget to gauge his reaction to the name because I’m too busy focusing on not throwing up everything in my stomach. I grab the lime off my Sprite and suck on it to chase the alcohol.
He starts to steer me away from the bar. “We should go somewhere else to talk.”
I go with him because I really need to get away from the cigarette smoke floating around this crowd and the unbearably loud metal music. We’re only a few feet away from the exit when I feel Ben being jerked away from me suddenly. I lose my balance, nearly collapsing into the dirt when the familiar scent of pine wraps around me, along with strong, supportive arms.
