Dex
Brothers are heading in for the wedding and there is no room to move without barging into someone or someone barging into you. I have my place at the bar and I’m not moving.
Ricky’s bachelor party is in full swing and I don’t care. What I do care about is the watchful eyes following me around. Brothers are watching my every move, they have been for days. I didn’t notice them at first, I was too busy seeing Melissa everywhere I went. Now I see them and tonight I’m going to give them a show.
Her perfume fills my nose and it lingers around me. I’m slipping into madness and the more I try to cling to my sanity, I spiral faster.
Soft fingers run down my neck and I shudder knowing who they belong to. They work their way around my shoulder and across my chest, slipping down under my tee and scratch along my abs. Her touch causes me to feel sick, I swallow it down and let her carry on.
“Do you want some company?” Shannon asks and instead of answering her, I turn to the prospect.
“Prospect,” I holler, banging on the bar, “Two glasses and a bottle of tequila.”
I’m already half wasted and for every shot I pour, just as much ends up spilled on the bar.
Shannon finds this hilarious and her laugh grates on my ears. She’s ruining the moment.
“You’ve got to get the tequila in the glass,” she instructs me and covers my hand with hers as I tip the bottle.
“Fuck the glasses, let’s drink from the bottle,” I suggest, and she giggles.
“Stop laughing,” I grunt, and she frowns at me.
“What?”
“You heard me, stop laughing like that. You sound ridiculous.”
Her hand slips down to her hip and through my double vision, I can vaguely make out she’s scowling at me.
Like I give a fuck.
“You’re being a jerk,” she snaps.”
“You’re being annoying,” I slur.
“You used to be much more fun, ever since that Melissa woman stopped coming around you’ve been an asshole.”
Shooting up onto my feet, I first stumble, and then reach out to grab onto her arm.
With her being sober compared to me, she moves out of my way before I can make contact and the next face I see is Popes.
His large hands grab onto my cut and he hauls me through the crowd of brothers, and shoves me through the door to the bathroom.
“Fuck, Pope. What’s your problem?”
I push up off the floor and brace myself for another fall.
“Why are you trying to mask what you did? I told you, you have to live with it, not hide from it,” he says, quietly.
“Huh?”
The lights are too fucking bright in here and they’re distracting me from the man who is clearly pissed with me.
“I’ve been watching you for days, you’re unravelling and failing to deal with what happened. Why? Why do you think you can drink it away?” he demands, coming towards me, I back up but my back hits the wall and I have no where else to go.
“What haunts you the most, Dex? Is it that you killed her, or you burning her corpse after throwing her into her grave that you dug out?”
“Shut your mouth…”
“Tell me,” he roars, and it sobers me the fuck up.
“All of it, she doesn’t leave me alone,” I yell back in his face.
Sliding down the wall, I drop on my ass and pull on my hair. I remember every detail from the night, I can still smell her flesh burning. It fills my sense of smell and nothing gets past it.
“It’s your guilt, dumbass. Deal with it,” he urges, nudging my foot with his boot.
Why does everyone think it’s that easy? Just deal with it and move on.
“You put a bullet in her, you dug her grave and then you set her on fire. You can’t away from it, or from her.”
“How do you do it? How can you go on knowing the horrors you’ve seen and done?”
“For starters, it doesn’t bring me to my knees, so stand the fuck up.”
Looking up at him, there is no warmth in his eyes as he stares down at me, but I do feel the brotherly love. He’s trying to help, and I need to take it. I need all the help I can get.
I stumble into the wall as I rise, and he helps me up until I’m steady on my feet.
Once I’m not swaying, he grabs the back of my head and yanks me towards him.
“If you can’t get right with this, it’ll make me uneasy, and if I’m uneasy shit will get a lot worse for you.”
“It can’t…It can’t get any worse.”
“Stop drinking, start talking, and I reckon you’ll be fine. We’re here for you, all of us, use us to get right.”
He lets go of me and I manage to stay on my feet. I watch him walk out and release a pent-up breath. Looking around, this bathroom could do with a good fucking clean. My reflection catches my eye and I look like shit. My skin is sallow, heavy bags under my eyes weigh down on my cheeks, simply put, I’ve looked much better.
Splashing cold water on my face does nothing to help my looks, but it wakes me up and I hate the man I’ve become.
Pope’s right, I need to get right with myself. Fuck Melissa for having to try and protect her brother. She knew he was a dead man after he went after Cas, yet she still went to her death believing she could help him.
We could’ve had such a different life together. Instead, I’m here and she’s not.
Swinging the bathroom door open, I strut into the bar and push my way through the crowds of brothers. I don’t stop until I see Shannon standing over by the pool table, talking with another club girl.
“Hey, can I have a word?”
I don’t miss her snarky glance at me before she ends her conversation and gives me her whole attention.
“What do you want?”
“I want to say sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like I did.”
“Have I done something to make you think you could get away with it?”
I refrain from rolling my eyes at her and step forward. Running my fingers down her arm, I see the moment she melts at my touch.
“Come on, let’s go up to my room, I’ll make it up to you.”
Hopefully, a night with her will distract me and tire me out so I can sleep without having a nightmare.
She doesn’t hesitate and clings to my arm as we head up the stairs. I’m not interested in the string of strippers that have just arrived for Ricky and lead Shannon into my room.
The door has barely shut before her dress hits the floor and she’s helping me out of my cut. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she leans up on her tiptoes and claims my mouth. I barely have to do a thing.
Lifting her up, she hardly weighs a thing as I carry her across the room and lay her down on the bed. Her hands are everywhere on me, undoing my belt, lifting my tee up and then I hear, “Do you like fucking the dead, Dexter?”
I still and close my eyes and open them again.
“Did you say something?”
“I said, do you like that?”
“Like what?”
Now she stills and frowns at me.
“Oh my god, you’re not even here with me, are you?” she screeches.
“Of course I am.”
“Get off me.”
She shoves at my chest and I roll off her, falling on my back next to her.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you now but stay away from me until you figure out your shit.”
What the fuck just happened?
In a whirlwind of movement, I block out her whining as she clambers back into her dress and slams the door on her way out.
It takes a beat, but I realise I wasn’t even hard for her. Reaching over for the bottle of vodka I left here last night, I drink half the contents and let the alcohol attack my brain.
I heard her.
Melissa’s voice.
It was clear as day.
Fuck.