Where We Belong (A Touch of Fate #1)(11)
The day after I walked away from her, Brit and I began packing for New York. Then, before I knew it, it was time to leave. The move and subsequent unpacking kept me busy, and before I knew it, two weeks had passed. When I finally took the time to listen to the voicemails on my phone, I discovered that they were mostly from Levi and Quinn. Harley had only left one. It's still saved in my phone.
“Tyson (sniff, sniff), please talk to me (sniff).” Her voice had been low and gravelly, most likely raw from crying. “Something happened and I—I need you. Please, Ty. I know I messed up. I know I put you in a bad spot and I would give anything—anything—to fix this, but that’s not why I’m calling." She pauses, sobbing into the phone. "Please. I need you to call me, Ty. Please."
I never called her back.
Two weeks had already passed, and I had no clue what to say to Harley. Then, shortly after listening to her voicemail, I got the call about Dallas. That call f*cking destroyed me.
Closing my eyes, I reach out with my right hand, allowing my fingers to graze over the lettering on the cool marble.
My vision blurs and I blink rapidly, effectively stopping the tears. Turning away, I tilt my head to the sky.
"God, Dallas, you were my idol. You showed me how to throw that perfect spiral...and remember when I dinged dad’s new car with my bike?” I laugh humorlessly. “You covered for me, just like you always had my back. I miss you so much, big brother."
I lower my head, pressing my fingers against my temples. It's so hard to remember the good times but not the bad. It's hard to forget how quickly things went to hell. The fraternity. Drinking. Drugs. Women. It all got the best of him.
I was so naive, telling myself that he was only doing what every other college kid was doing...experimenting, messing around, having fun. But Dallas was taking it too far. He quit coming home and stopped calling. Mom and Dad were a complete wreck and tried several times to reach out and get Dallas the help he so desperately needed.
One night after a raging party, Dallas called Dad. He was drunk and high, begging my Dad to come get him up.
My parents picked him up, and he spent the next nine months in and out of rehab. But none of that mattered. He relapsed. When Dallas died, the level of alcohol and drugs in his system was astonishing. The perfect amount of drugs...followed by alcohol...followed by more drugs...it was too much for his body to handle. I've often wondered whether or not it was accidental or if he knew the combination would be too much.
Coming home for the funeral was tough. Harley showed up with Levi and Quinn, and I didn’t say a word to any of them. I was trying so desperately to wrap my head around everything that had happened with Dallas that I didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything.
My teeth grind at the thought of the unknown and I stand hastily, shaking myself out of the path my head was going. Picking up my coat, I dust off the leaves that fall has left behind and I lay my hand atop Dallas’ tombstone. “I've got to go. Levi and some of his friends are going out for drinks tonight and he invited me along. I promise I won’t wait another five years. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me." Slowly turning to walk away, my final words are but a whisper, “rest in peace, brother.”
I PULL UP TO Blue, the upscale bar that Levi owns. It's attached to Flame, a restaurant that he owns with his dad. Pushing through the heavy steel door, I take in my surroundings. Fuck, this place is awesome. I make my way to the third level, where Levi said they would be sitting.
A young woman is standing at the top of the stairs, a clipboard in hand. She is gorgeous in her tight, tuxedo-style shirt, black pencil skirt, and red stilettos, but I wouldn’t expect anything less coming from Levi. She reminds me of a librarian, and I instantly picture her with black-rimmed glasses and a wooden stick.
Shit. Now I'm hard.
She smiles. “Your name please."
“Tyson Grawe," I reply, giving her an easy smile.
She glances briefly at her clipboard. “Right this way, Mr. Grawe." Her voice is low and seductive, and when she turns around, I have to adjust myself. "Your party is right over here. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“Yes, Bud Light bottle." She grins and moves closer.
"Anything for you, Mr. Grawe. Please have a seat and I’ll be right back with your drink."
Reaching out, I grab her hand before she walks away.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
Her eyes shine brightly. “Blaire," she states, giving a quick wink as she turns toward the bar.
Levi, Cooper, and Levi's brother, Mason, are situated around a high-top table."Tyson!" Levi booms, standing to shake my hand. "Goddamn, I missed your ugly face." He snakes his arm around my back and pounds a few times.
I sit down as Blaire returns with my beer.
"I see you met Blaire,” Cooper says, leaning back in his chair to watch her ass as she walks away.
"Coop," Levi scolds, slapping Cooper in the chest. "Leave that poor girl alone."
"Trust me,” Cooper says, leveling Levi with a glare while pointing in the direction of Blaire. "She is not a poor girl. Blaire's mouth—"
"Enough." Levi rolls his eyes and takes a pull from his bottle. "You know I can't sit here and talk about my staff like that. And I certainly don't need to know which of my girls you're luring into your bed," he says, shaking his head. He turns to me as Cooper reaches over to high-five Mason.