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Chapter 58

"I love you, Tequila."

I shot upright and scanned the room, but it was empty.

It was always empty.

Drake no longer haunted my dreams. When I closed my eyes at night, it was a new man– sharp eyes and sweet words– a ghost of the happiness I'd lost, never truly there.

For a week, Bard had remained true to his word. Everyone left, and I stayed, half expecting him to emerge when the last car disappeared down that narrow drive.

But he didn't, and no matter how hard I tried, how much I forced myself to think rationally, I couldn't find it in myself to be grateful.

Alone. For a week, I'd been completely alone.

I laid still and stared at the dust motes floating above my head. The point in getting up felt less and less obvious, and I didn't want to. I didn't want to spend another day convincing myself not to go after him. Reminding myself of everything that had happened just to keep me steady. It was torture. Another day, long and quiet.

Alone.

I missed him, and I wanted to curse myself for it. I wanted to smack inner Jessie across her face. Just like with Drake... I couldn't let it go.

Except Bard wasn't Drake. Bard was so much more.

But they had one thing in common, and that was that I loved him, even though I knew I shouldn't.

A thump sounded from somewhere in the cabin, and I jumped up.

He came back.

I scrambled from the bed without thinking, but no sooner did my feet touch the old wooden floors, I froze.

I can't want him to be back. I can't see him. If I do, I'll...

I crept forward as careful as I could to prevent the familiar creaks from accompanying my steps. My ears primed for sound.

Another thump.

He's here.

I hurried, trying to stay quiet, not wanting to see him but unable to pass up the chance.

The back door closed.

I ran.

By the time I reached the kitchen, it was empty...

And so was I.

I looked out the window, searched the yard, the tree line, but there was no one. He was gone, like the ghost I'd come to know him as, doing what I'd asked him to do.

What I wanted.

It took an eternity before I could will myself to turn away from the murky piece of glass.

Alone.

Then, I saw it, on the table.

A flower, big, and white, and wild. My feet glued to their spot as I stared at it and the little piece of paper tucked beneath.

He left a note...

Did I want to read it? Did I want to risk what was written there? What he'd written.

Fuck!

Unable to resist, I stormed over and picked the torn paper up with shaking hands.

Five words scribbled in a sloppy hand, a man's hand, uncontrolled and imprecise, so unlike everything else about him.

I'm sorry.
I miss you.

My chest hurt.

I loved him. Why did I have to fucking love him? Anger burned my eyes and tightened my chest. Hatred, at him, at myself.

I grabbed the flower, rushed to the backdoor, wrenched it open, and stormed down the back steps. Heart in my throat, and chest too tight to breath. Adrenaline surged until my whole body shook.

"You don't know me!" I screamed at the tree line, voice raw and echoing all the pain I'd carried since that night. I clenched my fist, crumpled the paper and the flower, then threw them both aimlessly towards the woods.

He didn't know me.

Bard didn't come out. He didn't try to comfort me. He stayed inside his new dwelling, away from me, alone.

I forced my legs to carry me back inside, even though all they really wanted to do was search for him, to find him, to beat him until my anger was satisfied, to love him until my chest stopped hurting.

I loved him.

I missed him.

I hated this.

But I went inside, because it was the only logical thing to do.

I needed to be strong. I needed to protect myself. Forget. So I did what I did every morning and walked to the fridge to make a breakfast I had no interest in eating. I wasn't hungry, but the task distracted, just like every other thing I did.

I pulled the door open and dropped to my knees.

He'd stocked it, full to the brim. Food he had no intention of sharing with me.

He never did, not anymore.

On the top shelf, in plain sight, a carton of eggs, a jug of orange juice, and another note.

I miss you taking my things.

My heart lurched.

On the shelf below, a bag of candy with another note attached to the top of it.

You are worthy.

I sucked in a shuddering breath. Almost lost it. A sob fought to break free like no other sob before it, and it was almost too much.

On the bottom shelf, nestled between the lunch meat and a bag of oranges, was a bottle of Tequila.

I fucked up.

I forgot the food and grabbed the bottle, not even bothering to stand before I opened it and tilted the liquid fire to my lips.

I wanted to forgive him.

I wanted to.

But I couldn't.

Because nothing was different. Things hadn't changed.

Bard didn't know me.

I drank some more, just enough to numb the pain before changing into my training clothes.

The area out back felt empty without Bard to push me, without him to knock down, without his praise for each new skill I learned.

But regardless, it was a task. It distracted. Each punch to the bag helped to calm me. I pictured Amber. I visualized Drake. If he ever did finally find me, I'd be ready this time. I wasn't the same person he'd known.

I was stronger.

I beat away at the faux opponent until my arms turned to jelly. I ran in place, did push ups, sit ups, pushing myself to get stronger, to be stronger.

Physically, I was ready.

Mentally, I was destroyed.

More than before. So much more.

But I continued. I didn't stop to eat, didn't slow, one task after another until blood trickled out of my nose.

When I finally called it a day and cleaned up, I went straight to bed and let sleep take me the minute my head touched the pillow.

I knew he'd be waiting.

A crash startled my eyelids upwards, and my heart jumped into my throat.

I sat up and willed myself to fully wake, listening. Another clang, followed by a stream of unintelligible curses.

I slowly got out of bed, rushed over to the door, and cracked it open the smallest of fractions.

Bard was on the floor, halfway into pulling himself up, the lamp and all of the pictures from the small table in the hallway scattered on the ground around him.

"What are you doing?" I opened the door a little more and stepped out where he could see me.

Bard's head whipped towards me. He tried once again to pull himself up, but lost his balance and fell back onto his ass.

He was drunk.

I watched him for a minute, but something about seeing him struggle made me heave a sigh and move to help.

When Bard saw me walking towards him, he stopped trying to get up and stared at me. Even in their unfocused state, those probing eyes seared. "Tequila," he murmured, voice slurred.

"You're drunk," I pointed out needlessly. I grabbed his arm and fought to heave him upwards.

He was too heavy, and as he lost balance again, I was dragged down with him. My body sprawled out across his on the hallway floor.

I moved to stand back up.

Bard held me.

I looked down at him, fighting for strength, fighting not to get sucked in.

He lifted a hand, then slowly ran it across the side of my face and into my hair. "I just wanted to look at you." He barely opened his mouth, and his tongue stumbled over each syllable. I could barely understand him.

"C'mon," I said, fighting to get up and get him to the couch.

Bard held firm. "No."

"Bard-"

"Shh, shhh, shhh." He pressed a finger to my lips. "Don't talk. Let's just pretend for a little while that you don't hate me." He sounded so different, so exposed, raw, made completely uninhibited by the amount of alcohol he had so obviously consumed.

My chest hurt. "I don't hate you," I whispered.

Bard continued to stare up at me, his eyes roaming my face, memorizing me, as if I were something precious. "Forgive me..."

My heart thundered so hard, I could feel the pulse inside my ears.

"Please..." he croaked, eyes pleading. "Please forgive me. I was wrong. Stupid. I should have believed you." He cupped my face, held me still, forced me to look at him.

Words failed me. I wanted to. I wanted to forgive him so fucking bad, but I was afraid. The idea of opening myself up, once again, only to have it crash and burn...

"I lo-" Bard started, then stopped. His head tilted as if listening for something, and those sharp eyes darted to the left.

"Bard-"

He threw a hand roughly over my mouth.

The sudden seriousness put me on high alert, and my own ears strained for sound.

Then, I heard it. Voices. Multiple voices, coming from outside, distant but still audible. A laugh, then someone barking an order.

His voice. That voice. The same voice that had barked at me in the same way so many times before.

Drake had found me.

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