“Your pick, bro’,” my brother says, leaning against his guitar, hunched over on the wooden stool.
Alright, think, Mav'.
Shit, the only song that’s coming to mind is the best I’m going to get right now, but I seriously doubt is going to go down well. Leaning over to Cole who’s standing to the side of the stage, I say the song that I want to test drive my voice to. The crowd looks amused; my brother looks like he’s buzzing in his seat.
My old friends look as terrified as me.
Mabel looks ready to commit murder and bury me in the spot that she promised to loveme forever in.
With that, the music starts.
Nine
Mabel
With a hard scowl painted across my face, I’ve got a horrible feeling this is going to be my face for a while now.
Maverick Bennett is standing on the stage, with his brother, about to sing a fucking song in my favourite bar in the world.
What a way to put an even bigger downer on my already screwed up Friday night.
My frown softens as I throw my glance in Jake’s direction. I won’t blame Jake for being happy to see his brother, I mean he’s his big brother after all and his loyalties do lie with him,unfortunately.
He adored him growing up.
Maverick was his hero.
“Well, no wonder you’ve been knocking back drinks like the rapture is about the hit.” Hope leans into me, wresting her arm on my shoulder
“Did you know he was back?” Iris gasps, her hands refusing to leave her mouth, her big brown eyes wide since the Asshat timidly strolled through the bar causing all sorts of commotion.
I shrug, feeling defeated.
Mack refills the tequila glasses that I’m practically now shoving down my throat.
“Holy shit!” Luke laughs, placing one arm on the bar.
“Not funny, honey.” Hope scowls at him, still leaning on my shoulder, even though I wish she’d move it.
Over the years I’ve become less touchy feely. The thought of someone else touching me without permission never sat right with me, more so after Ellie was born.
Luke laughs, showing no sign of letting up. “I’m… so… so sorry… Mabe’s,” He’s splutters out, struggling to catch his breath. I roll my eyes. Iris throws an outstanding punch to his shoulder.
“Ouch!” He gasps, doing his best to compose himself at the situation happening before us.
“I’m sorry, Mabe’s, this isn’t funny. I think I’m in shock.” I can see he’s trying to calm himself down, for mine and his own sake with his wife throwing daggers in his direction.
I roll my eyes at him again, grabbing yet another shot, my eyes gazing into the bottom of the glass.
I’ve got to stop, otherwise mom’s supper will be lining this already sticky ass floor.
I turn my sullen gaze back towards the stage and Mavericks eyes are now boring into my deeply damaged soul. However hard I want to, I will not look away; I will not look at the floor.
I’m angry.
Scratch that, my insides are boiling.
How dare he?
