Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(105)

She walked down, arm in arm with them to the first row, and sat. Two other people walked by, probably his parents; they sat on the other side. I kept my head toward the grass and only looked up with my sunglass-covered eyes.

The violins stopped.

Everyone turned and stood.

Violins played the wedding march, the saddest song I'd ever heard.

I didn't stand. I literally couldn't stand for that. I forced my heavy head to turn and I looked past the people in my row.

Flashes of her laughing at me, leaning in with her eyes closed and her mouth puckered for a kiss, and her flushed-pink nose…they all taunted me. The smell of her, taste of her, feel of her all at once hit so strongly that it crippled me.

Violins f*cking played.

They walked by. It was so fast. I didn't know what I was hoping for. Maybe she'd be looking for me. Maybe she'd turn around and run. But they simply walked past row after row until I couldn't see them through the standing guests anymore.

It got very quiet and everyone sat, putting the vision of my wildest fantasy and my worst nightmare in front of me all at once.

The priest spoke loud enough for all to hear. We were gathered there that day by God. Good, maybe he would share some of the blame.

I felt sick.

Catholic ceremony. Stand-up. Sit-down. Peace be with us all. Peace wasn't with me. That was one thing I would forever be holding. For someone else I guessed.

They gifted each other metal rings.

They said the Lord’s Prayer.

And then violins played.

They were pronounced husband and wife. He kissed his bride. My Betty. My Honeybee. She kissed me goodbye.

The sun was bright. What a terrible day for a wedding.

I stood too soon. I couldn't stay a minute longer. The couple parted from their inaugural kiss as his and hers. Her hair and veil blew as a breeze passed me and touched her. She looked straight at me.

I took one last look at her. I kissed the palm-side of my fingers, as she watched me standing there like a fool. The luck of it was that I was in the back and everyone was looking at them. Her face froze on mine.

Grant smiled at his parents.

She stayed still in her spot as he started to walk them forward and the opposite way down the aisle. But in her distraction, she paused. He noticed and looked at her and followed her gaze to me. He whispered something in her ear, shaking her concentration and breaking her connection with me.

She shook her head, rattling her thoughts. She turned to him.

My brother caught it, too. His head looked over his shoulder and directly at me. It was a look of shock and then pity.

My feet were steadfast and moved without my telling them to. Into the car. Onto the road.

I heard my cell phone ring. I suspected it was Cory and let it ring to voicemail. I'd text him later.

I drove south. Toward home.

I stopped for gas in a small town hours later and refilled the rental. I didn't even have a real tie to the vehicle I was escaping with. Escaping. That's what it felt like.

I thought the further I got, the more miles I put between us, that the pain I felt in every cell would dull. It didn't.

I could still hear the violins.



“Casey, it's me. I don't know where you went. Shit. Why did you come? Why did you do that?” I listened to Cory's voicemail. He sighed then went on, “I know you were there. Dammit. Just…just call me when you get this. Text me or something. Let me know where you are. I'm sorry. I love you, brother.” Then he hung up.

I'd driven straight back to San Francisco. I didn't arrive in town until around six thirty in the morning. When I walked into my apartment, the sun was coming up and I was thankful to be so tired. My eyes gave in and I fell asleep the second my head hit the couch.

When I awoke around three that afternoon, I listened to my voicemail from Cory again and read the texts he'd sent.

Cory: Would you text me already? Where are you?

Cory: Are you okay? You're pissing me off.

Cory: TEXT ME!

If I could feel anything, I would have felt bad for freaking him out.

I had the rental picked up and I headed to the bar. Hindsight would show that the Hook, Line and Sinker was a terrible choice. It was only early afternoon, but I had a lot of things to drown and I needed to get started.

Me: Home.

There I'd sent a message to Cory.

Then I sent a message to Nate asking if he was working tonight. It was a Sunday and I knew he worked every other one.

Nate was working at HLS and I was glad. I had every intention of drinking until I was kicked out, and at least I could talk him into serving me past when everyone else would cut me off.