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Beautiful Burn: A Novel by Jamie McGuire (26)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jon Bon Jovi played from the jukebox in the corner, its yellow, green, and blue glow one of the only sources of light in Turk’s besides the fluorescents over the bar.

A small group of local snowboarders were shooting tequila in the corner, and despite my occasional flirtatious glances in their direction, they weren’t going to share.

Annie stayed busy behind the bar, raking in the last of the ski season’s share of tips. I was sitting on a stool in front of her soda gun, watching her mix drinks I couldn’t afford. Jojo had already bought me two, and I wasn’t going to ask for another. Unfortunately, no one was looking to flirt with a jetlagged, hungover party girl too broke to party.

I looked around, feeling more desperate as the minutes passed, listening to Jojo go on about Liam and his invitation for her to meet him in North Carolina.

A shot was placed in front of me, and I turned to thank whoever it was. My smile faded when I saw a platinum pompadour and sweet grin.

“You look like you’ve had better days, Ellie,” Paige said, straightening one of her enormous gold leaf earrings.

I faced forward. “Go away, Paige.”

“That’s not very nice. I just bought you a drink.”

I craned my neck at her. “My sister won’t speak to me because of you.”

Jojo leaned forward. “I can’t believe you did that, Paige. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” she said without apology. “I was drunk and maybe a lot high.”

Jojo wrinkled her nose. “What happened to you? You used to be so sweet. Now you’re full of holes and covered in cheap artwork.”

“Go fuck a kangaroo, Jojo.”

“You’re a cunt rag, Paige. Your fake, innocent smile fools no one,” Jojo said, turning to watch the television overhead.

Paige seemed unfazed, resting her cheek on her palm. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

“If you’re going to pull something that heinous, at least own it. I’d respect you more,” I said, grabbing the shot and throwing it down my throat.

“Want another one?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. She had plans for me, and I didn’t care what they were. I just wanted to get drunk and not care for a night.

“It depends. What did you put in that shot?”

“Nothing fun, unless you’re making a request.”

“I’ll just take another drink.”

Paige signaled to Annie, who nodded.

“Where’s your boy?” Paige asked, lifting her leg to climb onto the stool to my right. She was wearing tight jeans and a tank top under a flannel shirt, showing off her curves and cleavage all while staying warm.

“Not here,” I said, throwing back the next shot Annie sat before me.

“Hey,” Paige said with a giggle. “Wait for me.” She lifted her chin and the dark liquid left the glass, emptying down her throat. She placed the glass upside down and slid it toward Annie, ordering two doubles.

I drank them as fast as Annie could make them. Finally, Paige cut me off. “You’re going to drink my paycheck. I came in with a fifty, and it’s gone.”

“Thank you,” I said, holding up my empty tumbler.

“Pace yourself,” Jojo said. “When Dad falls off the wagon, it’s easier for him to climb back on without a hangover.”

“I’m already hungover,” I said. “Or I was … six drinks ago.”

“You’re keeping track?” Paige asked. “That’s impressive.”

Jojo snorted. “Only counting to six would be impressive to you, Miley Cyrus.”

“Why did you bring her to a bar if she’s on the wagon, Jojo?” Paige asked, leaning forward.

“Why did you bring her Crown to her house? Why are you buying her shots now? I just wanted to have a couple of drinks and chat, not get her wasted so I could talk her into ungodly things.”

“You sure?” Paige asked with a sweet smile.

“Go fuck yourself, Paige.”

“Now, ladies,” I said, smiling when I felt the warmth settling into my muscles. “No need to fight over who is the best enabler.”

“It’s not funny,” Annie said, glaring at us with her round, chocolate eyes while she furiously dried a glass. “You’re both assholes if she was trying to get sober.” She looked at me. “You’re cut off, Ellie. Get the hell out of here.”

My mouth fell open. “What did I do?”

“You let me serve drinks to an alcoholic. I better not see you in here again or I’ll call Wick. Jojo … shame on you.”

Jojo made a face. “Oh, please. Like Daddy doesn’t come in here and get drunk when he fights with Mom.”

“Not for a long time,” Annie said, her shoulder-length brown curls shaking as she scolded and worked at the same time. “Take her home.”

“Okay … okay, we’re going,” I said, standing to gather my things.

“I’ll take you home,” Paige said.

“No.” I shook my head. “You still haven’t apologized for New Year’s Eve.”

Paige took a step toward me, six inches too far into my personal space. “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

She leaned in, tilted her head, and pressed her lips to mine. The snowboarders in the corner cheered like their favorite hockey team had just scored.

“Buy those girls a drink!” one of them yelled, pointing at us.

I looked to Annie, but she pointed to the door.

Paige led me out by the hand, but once we stepped into the alley, she backed up against the wall and yanked me toward her. Her tongue ring banged against my teeth, her hands firmly on each side of my face.

I heard someone giggle to my left, and I turned to a woman in the same position as Paige, pulling Sterling’s face against hers. Her knee was hitched to his hip.

His red-rimmed eyes drifted, and when he recognized me, I could see that he was just as drunk as I was, if not more. We watched each other for a long time, and then Sterling’s friend pulled him to face her again, demanding his attention.

Paige tried to do the same, but I backed away.

“Ellie?” Paige said, confused.

I walked toward the street, passing Sterling and his new friend and turning right toward downtown. I stopped on the corner, looking down when a police cruiser rolled by. The light changed, and I hurried across the street to the only twenty-four-hour convenience store in town.

“Bathroom?” I asked.

The clerk pointed to the back, and I ran.

“Hey. Hey! No puking in there!”

I burst through the door and leaned back against it, sliding down to the floor. Pieces of toilet paper and paper towels were lying all around me, and I could feel the ass of my jeans getting wet from one of the many small puddles on the floor. I reached back for my phone, my thumb hovering over the display.

Before I could change my mind, I pressed the last name I ever thought I’d dial—a number Finley had programmed into my phone three months before.

It rang twice before she picked up. “Ellison? My God, it’s so good to hear from you.”

“Sally,” I began. “I’m in the bathroom of a convenience store. I think it’s the only open one in town.”

“Where?”

“Estes Park. I’m going to need a car to the nearest rehabilitation center. I’ve tried to stop drinking … I’ve…” I took a deep breath. “I can’t do it on my own. I’m drunk right now.”

“Someone will be there in fifteen minutes. Sit tight, Ellison. We’re going to get you well.”

I set the alarm on my phone and waited on the dirty floor. Before the chime went off, the clerk knocked on the door.

“Hey, lady? You all right in there?”

“I’m okay,” I said, sniffing. I crawled over to the far wall and pulled some toilet paper off the roll, wiping my eyes between sobs.

“There’s a guy out here. Says he’s picking you up.”

I scrambled to my feet, stunned by my reflection in the mirror. Twin thick black streaks of mascara stained my cheeks from my eyes to my jaw line. My hair was in rats, my eyes dull and glassed over. I yanked open the door to see Tyler standing next the clerk, looking very large next to the short, scrawny boy.

He sighed, relieved. “Ellison … I’ve been looking everywhere.”

I wiped my hands on my jeans and tried to walk out without stumbling. Tyler followed me outside, ready to catch me if I fell. He draped his army jacket over my shoulders and fidgeted.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean anything I said.”

“I know.”

“No,” he said, reaching for me. “No, you don’t know. You don’t have a fucking clue how much I love you. I’m just … I’m out of ideas. Things were so good before my birthday. I just want to get back there somehow.”

I swayed backward, but he pulled me against his side.

“How much have you had to drink?” he asked.

“A lot,” I said, my bottom lip trembling. “I saw Sterling.”

Tyler’s expression changed from worry to rage. “Where? Did he say something to you? How did you get here? Him?”

I shook my head and crossed my arms. “I walked.”

“Jesus, Ellie, it’s freezing.”

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“Sterling?” he asked, caught off guard. “You’re not. You’re nothing like him.”

“I’m exactly like him. I’m a drunk, selfish asshole who cares about no one.” I turned to Tyler. “I can’t love you. I don’t even love myself.”

Tyler looked like the air had been knocked out of him. He shrugged. “What am I supposed to say to that? You keep knocking me down and I keep getting back up, thinking one of these times you’ll stop throwing punches. I love you. And I know you love me, but … I’m not a punching bag. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“It’s not up to you to save me. I have to do it myself. Somewhere else.”

He blanched. “What are you talking about?”

A black car pulled up, and the driver stepped out. “Miss Edson?”

I nodded.

Tyler frowned. “Who the fuck is that?”

“My ride.”

“I can take you. Where are you going?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Who is he? Does he work for your parents?”

“Not exactly,” I said. Sally knew as well as I did that my parents would pay for any ride taking me to rehab.

I pulled off his jacket, but he held out his hand. “Keep it. Bring it back to me when you come home.”

I reached for his face, leaning up on the balls of my feet to kiss him, and he threw his arms around me, closing his eyes tight and holding me like it was the last time.

“Come back,” he said against my lips, keeping his eyes closed.

“What if I come back different? What if it takes a long time?”

He shook his head. “I’ve loved every version of you there’s ever been. I’ll love whoever comes back.”

My face crumbled, and I nodded, waving goodbye.

The driver stood next to his car, opening the door when he saw me heading toward him. He shut the door as I slid into the backseat. The leather and new car smell reminded me of my other life, of the old Ellison who wouldn’t have noticed that she was dirty while the car was so clean. I didn’t belong in that car, or that life, but there I sat, willing to submit so that I could fully heal.

“Buckle up, Miss Edson,” the driver said. “We have a long drive.”

I nodded, reaching for the shoulder strap and pulling it across. I wasn’t sure where the driver was taking me, but I cried the whole way there.