I KNOW WHO IT ISbefore I even answer the phone.
“What’s up, Jimmy?”
“Your boy is at it again. Gettin’ belligerent and disrupting my customers.”
“Awesome,” I groan under my breath. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Five minutes. This is my last courtesy call. Next time, I’m calling the cops.”
“I hear ya loud and clear.”
“Good.” Click.
Fuck.I shrug on a pair of jeans and run my fingers through my hair. The first time I can sleep through the night in six years and this jackass repeatedly picks three a.m. to self-destruct. If it were anyone else, I’d have told Jimmy to toss him in the gutter and let him sleep off his load. But I can’t do that, not to Kayne. At least not this time, but possibly the next. This shit is getting old.
It takes me exactly seven minutes to drive to the hole Kayne has taken up residence in the last three months. Transition into the civilian world has been significantly harder for him than myself. Losing Ellie destroyed him, more so than even I could have predicted. He was fucked up when it came to women to begin with, and getting wrapped up with her only magnified his issues twentyfold. Sometimes I worry he’s reached a point of no return.
I walk into the dark little bar with a rainbow of shady characters. No, Kayne couldn’t just pick any bar to get drunk in; he had to pick the one where the baddest motherfuckers in town hang out. A place where the wrong look can get you stabbed or the wrong word will earn you a bottle smashed over your head.
I spot him in the corner being corralled by two linebackers in motorcycle jackets.Just fucking great.He’s swaying on his feet with his bottom lip busted wide open. But it’s the look in his eyes that has me worried. His stare is dark and removed like his soul has disappeared.
“You’re late,” Jimmy sneers from behind the bar.
“Keep your shirt on. I’m here, aren’t I? What happened?” I ask as we walk the length of the room side by side toward Kayne.
“What happened is your friend came, got shitfaced, and started a fight. Again,” he snarls. “I’ve had it. He’s out, and if he shows his face in here one more time, I’m not going to intervene when he gets what’s coming to him. Got me?” the burly man asks with his arms crossed and a glare that can make the average person piss themselves.
“I got it.” I wave my hand. I’m sure if I was anyone else, I’d be intimidated. But I don’t have time for hard-asses who think they’re tough shit. If Kayne wasn’t fucked up, we could wipe the floor with every douchebag in this entire place.
I squeeze through the two mountains blocking him. “Excuse me, fellas. I got it from here.” I grab Kayne’s arm, and he growls at me. “Easy, killer. Just taking you to get some air.” I pull him through the bar, stumbling drunk, and cursing like a sailor. To be honest, I’m impressed he has the ability to speak given the condition he’s in.
Once outside, I haul off and punch him in the gut. Why? Because the last thing I need is a ticking time bomb. Which is exactly what Kayne is at the moment—what he’s been since the moment Ellie walked out of his life. And the only way for him to come to terms with what he’s feeling is to face it head on. I have learned this about him the hard way.
Kayne hunches over, caught off guard for a second, and then retaliates by tackling me against the car. “Come on, cocksucker, get it all out.” I continue with the kidney shots as he crushes me against the driver’s side door. “She’s gone! She’s gone! And you have to fucking accept that!” I scream at him.
“I can’t!” Kayne howls like a wounded animal then slumps to the ground, trying—and failing miserably—to hide the emotion leaking out of his eyes. Ughhhh, messed-up motherfucker. I prop him up on the sidewalk. He hits my soft spot every time.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” I clasp his shoulder as he clumsily sits on the curb, pulling his legs up to steady himself. “You’re going to wind up getting hurt, or worse, getting dead. Is that what you worked so hard for? Sacrificed so much of your life for?” I shake him. “To be buried six feet under?”
“I’d be better off dead.” He wipes his cheeks roughly with the palms of his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.
“That’s the alcohol talking.”
“No, it’s not. What’s the point of living if you have nothing to live for?” He looks up at me with bloodshot eyes.
My flesh actually heats.
“You selfish scumbag. You have nothing to live for? What the fuck am I? I don’t count just because you can’t fuck me?”
“What?” His expression falls. “No . . . That’s not . . . You’re my best friend. My brother . . . The only family I have.” He stumbles over his words.
“Well, how do you think your brother would feel if you end up dead?” I get in his face.
Kayne shrugs. “Shitty?”
“Yeah. Pretty. Fucking. Shitty,” I snap.
Kayne stares at me blankly. I know he’s in theresomewhere.Then he drops his head in his hands pathetically. “I just miss her so damn much.”
