Then There Was You(93)

I ended the call and clutched the phone to me as heaving sobs stole my breath.





“Dammit!” I yelled, throwing the phone with all my might against the sofa. I paced the floor, back and forth, cursing under my breath. You potentially lost one of the most amazing women you’ve ever known over a one-night-fucking-stand! Dumbass!

“Why the hell did I do something so stupid?!” I screamed, punching the wall. Then I crumbled, falling to my knees and burying my face in my hands. That’s when the tears came. Cries of remorse and frustration escaped me, and I was bombarded by the self-loathing that always happened after I fucked things up royally.

This is all my fault. I do this. Every. Damn. Time.

No matter how hard I tried, I always managed to screw things up for myself. Just when things were going great and starting to look up for me, I always fell into this self-sabotaging bullshit and did something stupid to ruin it all. Half the time, I didn’t even realize what was happening until it was over. I was always blinded by my impulses, and I didn’t know how to overcome them.

I thought about how I got myself thrown into juvie the first time. I’d finally moved to a school where I actually fit in. And what the hell did I do? Something idiotic that caused me to lose all that. Then I met Kaitlyn. And rather than handle the situation with Trevor the way it should have been dealt with, by alerting the authorities, I beat the shit out of him and threatened to slit his throat. He deserved it, of course, but I landed myself right back at Fairbanks and ultimately lost Kaitlyn forever.

And here I was again, finally opening myself up and letting myself find love again, and what did I do? Fucked everything up, just like I’ve always done. Just when I found someone who made me feel alive again, I had to go and hook up with some chick who meant absolutely nothing to me.

Why? Why do I always screw everything up!

How would I ever get Salem to forgive me? I should have known better. Covering my face with my hands, I plopped down on the sofa. Taking a few cleansing breaths, I tried desperately to recall everything that had happened that night.

What the hell was I thinking?

That’s just it. I wasn’t thinking. I was so messed up…



“Time to get wasted, bro,” Tommy said, cracking open a can of beer.

We’d been on the road for weeks. Four cities in six nights. I was exhausted. I needed the break.

“Hell yeah!” I said, twisting the top off of a bottle of Jager.

Jeremy downed his own shot of Gentleman Jack. “Later, we’ll hit the club.”

“Lotsa bitches gonna freak when they see us tonight,” Tommy said with a wink.

I chuckled. “Yeah,” I said, although I could hear the uneasiness in my own voice.

I didn’t want to sound like a pansy, but damn, I missed Salem something fierce. I threw back a shot of Jager, the best soothing agent for a weary heart.

Four shots and three Jager bombs later, my mind was spinning and I was thoroughly numb to the ache of missing Salem.

“How goes it for a little white widow?” Tommy dangled the baggie of weed in front of me, taunting me.

Everything inside of me screamed ‘No!’ while I took the bag from him and smiled. “Damn, Preacher, you got the hook up!” I hadn’t smoked it in years, but I knew good weed when I saw it, especially when I opened the bag and took a whiff. Damn, that was some good shit.

Many puffs later, I was flying high.

And somehow we made it to the club.

Tommy was right. Girls were all over us.

“Oh my god, it’s Chris King!” I think I heard that at least a thousand times. On any other day, their high-pitched squeals would have gotten on my nerves, but I was too stoned to care. I hadn’t been that fucked up since high school. We were offered body shots all night, which we gladly accepted.

I was sitting down when a beautiful, blonde bombshell plopped down on my lap, straddling me. “Hey baby,” she cooed into my ear. “I’m Jill, your biggest fan.”

All I saw was her cleavage in my face while the world spun around me. The scent of her perfume was fucking sensational.

Damn, I missed Salem. The softness of her hair on my face. The subtle hint of vanilla on her skin. I closed my eyes, remembering that amazing night when we made love in her bed. She’s got me so messed up inside. One minute I’d be thinking about juvie and how she was there for me through it all, how she came through the door that night I fucking lost it and sat on the floor with me until I pulled myself together, how she gave me that guitar and told me she believed in me, how she hugged me on the sidewalk the day I walked away… how all I ever wanted to do was make her proud. And the next minute I’d be thinking about the way she’d smile at me when she tucked that same damn strand of hair behind her ear, the way she’d spent all afternoon teaching herself to make biscuits from scratch just to please me… the way she’d looked at me the night I made her lose control underneath me. My heart was a fucking mess.