Whiskey Lullaby(32)
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Whenever she’s sad, sing that song to her and tell her I’m still with her.” She patted my arm on her way out of the room.
I swallowed, my breath sticking like molasses in my throat. “I will.”
Moments like that, they’re why I pretended I didn’t have a heart. Sometimes, life hurt too much.
_
By the time I got home, Old Man’s lights were out, and he wasn’t in his yard. I was so busy staring at the dark windows I nearly missed the Mazda parked to the side of my house.
I slammed the door shut, glancing over at the car. “You know, you don’t answer your texts,” Daisy’s voice floated across the yard and I caught the cherry-red glow of her cigarette when she lifted it to her lips.
“Yeah, that’s the beauty of free will.”
She rolled her eyes on a huff. “You’re a dick.”
I feigned a bow as I step onto the porch. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, that guy, Brice Taylor, that’s been trying to get in touch with you…” She took another drag, blowing a steady stream of white smoke through her lips. “He asked me to have a word with you since you keep hanging up on him.”
How the hell does she know? I scrubbed my hand over the back of my neck, swatting at the mosquitoes still buzzing around. “How do you even know about that?”
She laughed and tossed her cigarette down. “I told you my videos would make you famous one day.”
“Yeah, right.”
“He saw the video and commented on it.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped her finger over the screen. “Look.” She held up the phone and I took it from her with a roll of my eyes. Daisy was the type of girl who would do just about anything for attention. I stared down at the comment from a profile with the name: TheRealBriceTaylor. “Okay, so some dickhead made a fake profile to be funny.”
“No… he emailed me and said he loved your sound, something about looking for some new talent. I don’t know, but I gave him your number and you keep hanging up on him.”
“It’s bullshit. Go home.” I crammed the key into my lock and opened the door. She of course followed me in, but I stopped in the doorway. “Daisy, look, I appreciate it, I do, but I’m just not…”
She trailed a finger over my cheek and I jerked away from her touch. “You’re too humble, you know it.”
“Would you leave?”
“He’s gonna call you again tomorrow.” She rolled one shoulder. “It could change your life.”
“And why do you even care?”
“Jesus, I’ve had a thing for you since sixth grade.”
“And? So…”
“All great love stories have a sacrifice.”
Swiping my hand down my face, I groaned. “Daisy, that doesn’t even make sense. You aren’t sacrificing shit.”
“I just want you to be happy, for you to see how good you are at something.” She smiled, and I almost felt bad for being such a dick to her. “And besides, whether you like me or not, you have a great voice.” And then I did feel bad.
“Shit, Daisy… I, I’m sorry. Thank you.”
She took a small step toward me, placing her hand on my chest. Give them an inch… I grabbed her wrist just as she pushed up on her tiptoes and closed her eyes.
“Just kiss me, one time.” She huffed. “I’ve earned that at least, haven’t I?”
I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She groaned. “Wow. You really are a dick.”
“Daisy, just go home.” I took her by the shoulders and shoved her back a step.
“Don’t forget where you came from, Noah Greyson.” She glared at me as she took a step back onto my porch.
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” And I shut the door in her face, locking the deadbolt.
Halfway across my living room, I pulled my phone from my pocket and swiped through the received calls until it landed on the number with no contact information. 615. I typed the area code into Google. Sure enough, it was a Nashville number. What the fuck?
My heart banged against my ribs, adrenaline flooded my system. It couldn’t be legit. It couldn’t be real. I glanced around my shitty house and through the window at Old Man’s house. It couldn’t…
My phone rang, breaking my mind from its rambling thoughts. I didn’t even check the number, I just answered it. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Hannah said. “I, uh… I’m at the jail. Can you, can you come get me?”
“You’re what?” I thought she was screwing with me. “Seriously, where are you?”
“At the Rockford County Jail. Daddy’s gonna kill me, please come get me.”
“Shit.” I turned in a circle, looking for my keys and finally spotting them on the end table. “Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
_
The smell of mildew and cigarette smoke hit me like a wet rag when I stepped into the jail’s waiting room. Mary Anne, the wife of the town drunk Jebidiah, was perched on a chair, reading National Enquirer. She peeked over the top of the magazine, eyeing me up and down before she lifted a cigarette to her lips. I didn’t think you were supposed to smoke inside, but she was a regular visitor and Jeb’s bail money probably paid at least two of the bailiffs.
“Can I help you?” one of the attendants asked from behind the glass window.
I stepped over, pulling my ball cap off before I leaned down to the open area of the window. “Hannah Blake,” I whispered.
“Who?” She popped the gum in her mouth. “I can’t hear you.”
“Hannah Blake.”
“Hannah Blake,” she said loudly, typing on her keyboard. Her fingers paused over the keys and she quirked a drawn-on brow. “That’s John Blake’s daughter, right?”
Clenching my jaw, I nodded.
“That’s a shame. She was such a good girl.”
I heard Mary Anne’s paper crinkle. I glanced over my shoulder to see her staring in my direction. “The preacher’s daughter?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “What’d she do?”
I shook my head and turned back around.
“She’ll be right out, hun. Go have a seat.”
I didn’t have a seat. I stood right by the door. When the lock clicked and the buzzer sounded, the door swung open. I expected Hannah to be a complete mess, swollen eyes, splotchy face, but she wasn’t. She walked right out, shoving a yellow piece of paper in her jeans. “Thanks.” She headed toward the doors, waving at Mary Anne. “Hi, Mrs. Lockhead.”
Mary Anne waved as Hannah walked outside. The door nearly hit me in the face, and the second I caught up to Hannah, I grabbed her hand. “What in the hell?” I nearly laughed. “Why were you in there?”
“I stole a boat.”
“What?”
“Or as you like to call it, borrowed a boat?”
An amused laugh slipped through my lips. “Really?”
“I needed serenity, and someone told me the middle of the lake was the most serene place you could go.” She smirked, and while I found it adorable as fuck, there was a little nagging in the pit of my stomach. I kept hearing that lady inside the jail say, “She used to be a good girl.” Something told me I’d already tainted her.
She stopped beside my car, waiting for me to get the door for her.
“Don’t let me rub off on you, pretty girl.” I yanked open the door and jerked my chin back toward the jail. “You see where it gets you.”
“I’ll just have you know I made friends with the lady in the cell with me.” She hopped in the car with a grin. God, she was something… “Besides, life is about experiences, right?”
Shaking my head, I went to the driver’s side. I felt her staring at me when I shoved the key in the ignition. I looked over and cocked a brow. “Yes?”
“I’m glad I met you.” She scooted across the seat and grabbed my face, pressing her lips to mine.
Something so damn little, but it meant the world. When she pulled away, I bit my bottom lip on a groan. “Woman, you have no idea what you do to me.”
30
Noah
Fall 2016
When I lifted the beer bottle to my lips, it was empty. “Damn it.”
I grabbed two beers from the fridge, along with the stack of letters from the table, then went back to the living room and sunk down on my leather couch. When I popped the beer open, the metal lid went flying across the room and landed in front of the plasma TV.
I took a large gulp, already aware that the half case in my fridge would most likely be gone before I finished those letters. I knew I’d feel like shit the next day, but some things weren’t meant to be digested sober and those—I glanced down to the handwritten pages—I needed to be as numb as I could to digest those.
Noah,
You told me I’d hate you before it was all over, and maybe that should have been my first clue, you were already saying it wasn’t forever. But I believed in fate, Noah. Until you, I believed in fate and so many other things I no longer believe in.
I blew a loud breath through my lips and chugged my beer. Sometimes, I wasn’t sure what bothered me the most: the fact that I gave into her when I knew better, or the fact that she gave into me when she knew better.