Reid
It was a loud bang that just woke me from my drunken sleep. Again, I had gotten so drunk I could hardly stand. In the end, Akilah had to take me to bed. I sat, spilling my fucking guts out to him all night as he plied me with drinks. He knows the full horror story now. It was probably stupid of me to tell all, but I had to tell someone. The thought of Scarlet and what I had done to her won’t stop plaguing me. Luckily for me, he didn’t flinch. I think he’s been through many horrors himself over the years, so my story probably sounds like a children’s fairytale to him.
On a moan, I roll over, thinking I am on the other side. I fall out face down, bumping my chin on the cold tiles. “Shit!” I curse, moaning as I pull myself up. Again, my head pounds. I never learn. Every time I feel like this, I tell myself that I’ll stay off the booze, and every night, I end up drinking myself into oblivion until the memory of her is gone.
Another distant thud sounds, making my movements quicken. If someone’s downstairs stealing my shit, then they’ll be sorry. I’ve had a number of incidents where alcoholics have tried to break into my bar to steal food along with their ultimate goal—booze.
Standing on my feet, dizziness floods my brain, making me stagger. I manage to get to the door in time before I fall over, grabbing the baseball bat as I go.
I open the door, trying to listen out for sounds, but all I can hear is the buzzing noise in my ears. Moving along the corridor, I reach the steps and carefully step down each one without tripping over my own drunken feet. My heart starts thumping with adrenaline as I reach the door to the bar area. Pushing slightly, I peak through, trying to see if I can notice any movement beyond the door.
All is quiet.
Cautiously—with my bat at the ready—I push the door fully open and step inside. A dim side light that I always leave on lights the bar area up. Everything is as it should be. Everything except for a freshly made gin and tonic sitting on the bar with a side of lime on the glass.
Scarlet’s usual spirit of choice.
My heart skips as I approach the bar and pick up the offending glass. Bubbles form at the top making me think that this has very recently been poured. As I turn the glass around, my heart stops again when I see the red lipstick mark coating the rim.
Something moves out of the corner of my eye. I look up, but there’s nothing there. “Who’s there?” I ask angrily. I’m fucking sick of this shit. “Whoever’s there is going to get the arse kicking of the fucking century. Do you hear me?!” I shout, making my head pound at the sound of my own voice.
I don’t know how long I stand there for, trying to make out any sounds, but when nothing comes, I have one last look around before chucking the gin and tonic down the sink and putting the glass into the dishwasher. I turn to leave, and what I hear makes my blood run cold.
“Reid,” her voice whispers, making me shudder. I feel a cool breeze at the base of my neck. I violently spin around, but there’s nothing fucking there.
“Shit!” I shout, running my fingers through my hair.
“Reid,” she says again.
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I close my eyes, grasping my hair in my fingers.
“Reid.”
“Make it stop! Make it stop!”
I run to my room, taking two steps at a time. At least there, she doesn’t seem to haunt me except when I sleep. In fact, I feel safer there than I do in my own damn fucking bar.
Shakily, I run to the bedside and grab my phone mid-charge. I fling the charging point off, lighting it up. It’s just gone over six here, but it’s darker than Hell. That’s another thing about living here. The days might be longer, but it fucking takes an age to get light in the mornings.
Without a moment’s thought, I ring her mobile number. I know she’ll probably be asleep, but I don’t fucking care.
She answers after the fourth ring.
“Hello?” she asks groggily. It’s just as I thought. I’ve woken her.
“Dr Mercy, I need to see you.”
“Reece?” She squeals my name like I’ve frightened her. It would normally make me laugh if I wasn’t so fucking scared shitless right now.
“I’m going fucking crazy. She’s haunting me, Doc. Fucking haunting me.” My breaths come in small gasps down the phone.
“Okay, Reece. Deep breaths for me. In,” she asks, I immediately do as she asks, slowly sucking in a deep breath into my lungs, “and out again.” Her voice is soothing, making the calm wash over me instantly. “Now, tell me from the beginning.”
So, I do. I tell her about that night last week when I was drunk and high. That I heard her calling my name, and that she won’t stop plaguing me. Once I finish, I stay silent, waiting for her response.
“You have guilt, Reece, and you obviously need to address something. Your depression and guilt over the loss of Scarlet is causing you to have these hallucinations. Now, tell me. Have you been drinking more than usual? If you’re mixing alcohol and drugs when you’re depressed, then it’s no wonder you’re going through this.”
I sigh, knowing I need to admit defeat. “Yes, I have been drinking more than usual.”
I hear movement on the phone and it makes me wonder if she’s scooting up in her bed. For a fleeting moment, I wonder what she’s wearing.
“Are you sleeping okay?”
I run my hand over my face. “Fits and starts,” I admit. “A thumping noise in my bar is what woke me up. Someone was in here and made a gin and tonic. How can you explain that?”
“Could it not have been that it was left there by a customer? That either you or your barman missed it when you closed for the evening?”
“I could understand that, but this gin and tonic still had bubbles. It was fresh.”
“Was there plenty of ice in it?”
I frown, almost laughing. “I think discussing the amount of ice in the drink is the last issue at hand, don’t you think?”
I hear her sigh. “No, Reece. I’m asking because if it had plenty of ice in it, the bubbles in the liquid would have lasted longer. I was a science geek at school, so I know all this stuff.”
“It did have lots of ice.”
“See. It could have been just that. I would suggest you lay off the booze. As well as it being unhealthy for you, it’s also halting any recovery of your mental well-being.” She pauses a moment. “I know you keep saying no, but the offer to prescribe you medication is still on the table. It’ll only be for the short haul—until such time as you can get over the obvious guilt you hold inside for Scarlet.”
Closing my eyes, I shake my head. I don’t want to go down that route. Once I do, that’s it. It’ll be like admitting that I somehow failed.
“I can hear you thinking, Reece. You’re not a failure just because you admit to someone that you need help. In fact, it takes a very strong character to admit you need it. Don’t forget that.”
I smile at that, and suddenly, I feel ten times better. “The answer’s still no for now, but I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, good. You’re scheduled to come and see me in a few days, but if you still need me, I can meet you at my offices in an hour?”
Just talking to her on the phone has calmed me. I do want to see her, but not because of fear now. It’s because hearing her sexy Scottish accent asking me if I need her has made my dick stiff. Besides, she’ll only charge me an extra call-out rate—a rate I can ill afford since that scumbag of a Guardia Civil officer stole from me. Anger races through me at the thought. At some point, I will need to deal with that fucker.
“No, it’s okay,” I answer. “I feel a lot better now.”
“Good,” she replies. I can hear the smile in her voice. “If you need me, I’m always here. See you on Thursday, Reece.”
For the first time, my heart warms at the thought. “Yes. See you on Thursday.”