ME.
I wasn’t the one who was cheating.
I wasn’t the one who acted like I was in the wrong.
No, I was the one who broke up a happy moment.
I was the one who dared to voice our family's issues in public.
I was the one to wreck Holly Anne’s life.
I was the one to wreck Keith’s dreams.
ME.
Bull. Fucking. Shit.
To hell with them.
All of them.
I didn’t need them.
I didn’t need the money.
I didn’t need the prestige of being a Stevenson.
Nope.
I definitely fucking didn’t.
No.... what I needed was to get drunk.
To get drunk and put ice on my face.
And maybe get a burger with a lot of cheese and bacon.
And maybe some deep-fried Oreos.
Those were the things I needed.
And then.... my car came to a stop... my eyes were staring at a building I’ve passed only a handful of times that always seemed to stay busy.
A brick building that was what appeared to be two levels, with a set of wooden French doors right in the center on the bottom level.
Bikes were parked in a row out front, and every time one of the French doors opened, music blasted out.
And it wasn’t the bad music.
Nope.
It was the good music.
The soulful music.
Then I shook my head.
How in the hell had I ended up here?
