“Here he is! The man of the match,” Phoenix belted, climbing out of the booth as I approached. We bumped chests, and he banged me on the back with the palm of one hand. A few heads turned from the table behind us, but I avoided eye contact.
“Firstly, keep your voice down. And, less of the pounding. Last thing I need is to barf up a lung when I’m being watched.”
“Who’s watching you?” Hudson questioned as he handed me a beer from the ice bucket. We clinked the necks of the bottles in a toast as I kept my head down and swung my ass into the seat opposite. Nix motioned for me to move up and slotted his frame in beside me: almost like a human shield.
As I slid my cell and wallet out of my pocket and placed them on the table, both my brothers leaned to glance around the bar.
“Well?” Nix prompted as he turned back.
“I’m not sure. I just have that feeling,” I grunted, scanning the lot through the window on the other side of the bar. It was hard to see with the lights on inside. I tried to dismiss that constant niggle, maybe it was post-game anxiety, but the feeling still lingered even now that I was sitting down.
“You’re still paranoid, I see,” Hudson said, dashing his hand across his mouth.
“I suppose that’s the price you pay?” Nix replied.
“For what?” I asked, my fingers tightening around the ice-cold beer.
“Fame.”
He had a point, but I still gave him a withering look. I’d never wanted to be famous. I just wanted to play ball.
That unease I had felt persisted even through a couple of rounds of drinks, and I couldn’t shake it. Nix then suggested we do shots, which I knew wasn’t a good idea. Drinking with Phoenix usually resulted in a monster hangover the next day, for everyone apart from him, I mean. Nix could drink anyone under the table. There was a rumor in college that his liver was made from steel. I took the pussies way out and ordered a bottle of mineral water. There was no way I wanted to see Storm looking like shit in the morning.
Eventually, I told my brothers about what was (or should I say, what wasn’t) going on with Storm. They were supportive and suggested that I not hold back. The issue of Jasper came up again, and I still wasn’t any wiser towards the end of the discussion.
“I just wished she’d met me the night I’d left town.”
Nix’s eyebrows pinched together. “What night?”
“Remember that day at the beach? We were fooling around, piggybacking on the beach and shit. Storm turned up to say goodbye. I messaged her that night and asked her to meet me by the Harbor Lighthouse, but she never showed up.”
Hudson cleared his throat, and they exchanged a look.
“What?” I questioned, clearing my throat. A strange atmosphere settled around us.
“That was the same night as the accident,” Nix said, twisting to face me.
His words confused me. “What accident?”
Hudson shuffled forward across the table, lowering his head. “The car accident Storm was in? Surely you know about it?”
I glanced between them. “What the fuck are you both talking about?”
Nix’s nostrils flared as he placed his bottle down. “The night you left, Storm was traveling on the fifth and ran her car off the road. We assumed it was broken heart type of shit.”
The fifth was the road she would have needed to take to meet me that night. Everything inside my body felt tight.
“What did you say in your message?”
“I asked her to meet me by the Harbor Lighthouse. We used to meet there in secret. I said if she didn’t show, I’d know it was over.”
Both Hudson and Phoenix’s faces bloomed with realization. “Fuck. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Yeah, share the fucking wealth.
“So that’s where Storm was going. Don’t you see? She was on her way to meet you when she crashed her car.” Nix said, smacking me on the shoulder.
Crashed her car? What the actual fuck?
My jaw started to jerk with frustration. “I never heard of any crash?”
