CHAPTER 23
Walsh
“Another?” the bartender asks me as I sit huddled over the glass I’d just drained.
I push it toward him with two fingers. “Sure.”
I stare at the bar and listen to the sounds of The Silo. Skin slapping, moans, and orgasmic cries. I feel nothing, and I’m not sure how pathetic it makes me by sitting here.
This is the third night in a row I’ve come to The Wicked Horse. All three nights I’ve sat at the bar in The Silo.
Not because I’m looking to get laid, but because I can’t sit in my apartment anymore. I can’t be alone with my misery, so I come here.
Who knows, maybe one day I’ll get my hard-on back and take advantage, but it’s not tonight.
A new drink gets slid toward me, and I push some money back to the bartender. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks, man,” he says. You would think I’d get more than that since I’ve given him a twenty for each drink so far and told him to keep the change, but whatever.
I’m sure Jerico thinks I’m equally pathetic because I renewed my membership but have done nothing but sit here and drink. I’m paying exorbitant money to have access to a bar in a sex club where I’m not having sex but rather castigating myself.
Jesus, I’m a mess.
Someone sits down beside me, and it only makes me huddle closer to my drink. I don’t want conversation. I don’t want to fuck.
I want to drink, think about Jorie, and be left alone.
“I’ll have a scotch,” the person says, and I turn in astonishment to see Micah sitting there.
I take a moment to study him. Bland expression, casual posture. Not here to kick my ass.
Pity.
I turn away from him without a word. Picking up my drink, I take a small sip.
“Not happy to find you here,” Micah says. There’s no anger in his voice. Just disappointment.
I don’t give a fuck, either.
“Don’t worry,” I say dryly. “I haven’t done anything. I’m still pining for your sister, after all.”
“You’re in a sex club, pining for my sister?” Micah asks in disbelief, and there’s a little bit of anger. I find I like it because this douche has ignored me for over two weeks now. “That pisses me off.”
Still don’t give a fuck.
I shrug as I shoot him a short glance, then turn back to my brooding posture. “What can I say? This is where we first came together, and where we broke up. I’m nostalgic that way.”
“Christ,” Micah mutters, and I watch from my peripheral vision as the bartender hands him his drink. He knocks it back and slides the empty glass away. “Give me another, and another for him, too.”
“Appreciate it,” I say glibly.
I ignore Micah and sip at my drink, knowing I have another waiting for me.
“Was Jorie just sex to you?” Micah asks out of the blue, and mission accomplished… he gets an immediate rise out of me.
I twist my neck to look at him and grit out. “If you listened to my fucking voice mails, you’d know that’s not true.”
“And yet, here you sit in a sex club,” he says with a sneer.
“True,” I tell him nonchalantly, as I turn back to my drink. “But without a hard-on.”
“Not tempted in any way?” he presses, and my anger explodes.
I turn my entire body on the stool and lean aggressively toward him. “What the fuck do you want, Micah? Because you made it clear how you feel about Jorie and me, and I don’t fucking feel like hearing more shit about it. I did what you asked. I stayed away from your sister. Now you can stay the fuck away from me, and it’s all good. Everybody’s happy.”
Micah just blinks at me. I wait a moment to make sure he understands me, and then I turn back to my drink.
“Jorie’s not happy,” Micah says softly.
I snort and bob my head. “No shit, Dick Tracy.”
“You’re not happy,” he says.
I don’t respond. That’s evident.
“I’m not happy.”
“Don’t give a fuck about that one,” I mutter.
This so called best friend sitting beside me made me give up the one thing in life I loved, but didn’t give me the common decency to talk it through.
Micah leaves me alone for a few minutes, and I just start to relax again in my buzzed misery when he says, “She went back to L.A. She’s back with Vince.”
A wave of despair hits me, making it clear I could feel worse than I did two seconds ago. This is followed by a wave of fury so powerful, I feel like I could kill Micah because this now rests squarely on his fucking shoulders.
To spare him my rage, I merely pick up my money and push from the barstool. Without a word and figuring this is the last time I’ll ever see Micah, I turn my back on him and mutter, “I’m out of here.”
Shoving my money down into my pocket, I head toward the door.
“Walsh,” Micah calls.
I ignore him and make my way out of The Silo. Down the hall to the Social Room, and down the elevator and out of The Onyx Casino. It was a mistake coming here as there’s nothing really left here for me.
The distance from Micah does nothing to cool my anger. How dare he fucking show up in my life and act concerned about everyone’s happiness? How dare he fucking throw at me that she’s with Vince, because all that means to me is it’s too late with Jorie?
Fucking dude’s got balls. I should have knocked the bastard out.
“Walsh.”
I start walking aimlessly down the street. Turning to look over my shoulders, I see him hurrying after me.
I ignore him, but when his hand lands on my shoulder, the fury erupts.
I turn and throw a roundhouse punch that connects so solidly, he goes careening to the wall of The Onyx. He starts to sag, and I have a moment of pure vindication.
Turning my back on him, I start walking away, but he’s not finished.
“Walsh… you have to go after her,” Micah calls out. By the wet sound of his words, I know his mouth is filled with blood. That makes me feel good.
“Walsh,” Micah calls again, and it’s in pure desperation. I falter in my steps. “She loves you still. Not Vince. Please don’t throw her away because I was a fucking douche about this.”
My feet plant and refuse to take another step. I turn back to look at him hesitantly. He’s leaning against the wall with blood streaming from the corner of his mouth.
Yeah… that still makes me feel good.
But I walk the few steps back to him and say, “Talk.”
Micah stands up a little straighter, spits blood out of his mouth, and then wipes it on the sleeve of his shirt. “She loves you, Walsh.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I growl at him. Because that’s just a painful reminder of what I don’t have.
“She doesn’t love Vince,” he says urgently. “She’s only with him because she was so lost, she latched onto the first security that presented itself.”
“She told you that?” I ask him.
His eyes cut away guiltily, then back to me. “Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?” I snap, running out of patience.
“She’s not talking to me. Hasn’t since that night.”
“Then are you making this shit up about Vince?” I ask in disbelief at the levels he’d sink.
Micah shakes his head. “No. She sent me a single text that just said she was moving back to L.A. with Vince, and she was going to try to figure out what she wanted.”
“Nothing about that text says she doesn’t love him or that she wants to be with me,” I tell him pointedly, and I have another intense desire to punch him again.
“But it does,” he insists. “She said she wanted to figure out what she wanted. Which means she doesn’t necessarily want Vince, but you.”
I roll my eyes at him and turn to walk away. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Walsh… you both love each other. Don’t fucking walk away from that.”
Rage flows through me again, and I spin on Micah. His hands come up protectively, but I don’t physically strike out. Instead, I yell at him, “How do you know that, Micah? You wouldn’t fucking listen to us that night, so tell me how you know shit about what’s between your sister and me, you motherfucking, cock-sucking asshole.”
“Okay, I deserve that,” he says hastily. Suddenly, all my anger just dies.
I feel a hundred years old, beaten and broken, so I ask him again, “How do you know?”
“Because I saw Jorie pleading with you that night to not leave her,” he says quietly. “I heard the pain in her voice. I saw the heartbreak on her face when you walked away.”
“You made me walk away from her,” I accuse.
“Yes,” he agrees readily. “I was so fucking mired in my own anger that I couldn’t see anything else. But I see it now, Walsh. She loves you. Don’t sit here and tell me you don’t love her back, because that would be a fucking lie.”
I don’t respond, but my jaw clenches tight as I listen.
“You love me, too,” Micah adds.
Once again, I want to punch him.
“I despise you,” I mutter.
“No… you love me. You walked away from my sister because I asked you to, and you did that because you love me.”
“But not anymore,” I growl at him, but the last of my anger ebbs away, and I notice with strange awareness there’s a flicker of hope within me. “I still want to kick your ass.”
“If that will make you feel better,” Micah says as he throws his arms out wide. “I’ll do anything to help make this right. But Walsh… I’ve been two weeks without my best friend and my sister, and it’s killing me. I miss you both so much, and it’s absolutely just killing me that you two are in pain because of my selfishness. You’ve got to let me back in, and you’ve got to get Jorie back.”
“Start by telling me everything you know about her and Vince getting back together,” I tell him as I start walking toward The Royale. It’s several blocks away, but the air is helping to clear my head.
Micah rushes to catch up with me. “I talked to Elena before I flew out here today. She said Vince showed up at the apartment four days ago and convinced Jorie to come back with him.”
“What’s his agenda?” I ask, so I can figure out how to shut it down fast.
“I don’t think he has one,” Micah says dejectedly. “Elena felt he was being genuine and really wants to work things out with her, but he promised he’d give her space to figure things out first.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. That presents a huge problem. First, Jorie is married to this dude, and I swore I wouldn’t stand in the way if she wanted to save her marriage. I have to decide if I’m being selfish by trying to impede that.
“He told her he wants kids,” Micah adds.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I curse under my breath.
Micah’s hand on my arm stops me in my tracks, and I turn to look at him. His eyes are solemn when he asks, “Do you want children with her? Marriage? Because if you don’t, then let them be. Let Jorie figure it out on her own.”
“I want everything with your sister. If she’ll have me, I want to give her everything she wants and then more on top of that. I’m thinking three, maybe four kids, but we’d have to talk about that. A house in the suburbs. Fuck, I want a white picket fence with her and a golden retriever named Scout or some shit like that.”
Micah’s lips peel back into a bloody grin, which seems completely macabre, but it makes me smile back at him.
His smile dies a little. “I’m really sorry, Walsh. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I should have never been wigged out by this in the first place. It was a huge mistake, and I’ve caused a lot of hurt that I’m asking you to fix for me.”
There’s no hesitation when my arm shoots around his neck, and I pull him to me for an awkward bro hug with a huge back slap.
Yes, I hope it hurts a little.
When I release him, I say, “Let’s go get me packed up. I’ve got a flight to catch to L.A. in the morning.”