Life In Reverse(44)

I know she can. And I certainly know she doesn’t want to be rescued. But my protection instinct kicks in, and I have to suck in a sharp breath and let it out slow to maintain any sort of composure. All that composure goes to shit when I catch the harsh bite of his next words.

“Maybe things would’ve worked out with us-s,” he slurs, “if you hadn’t been pining over your dead brother.”

Ember’s face pales. Tears spring up in her eyes and I’m f*cking done. Even Julian doesn’t try to stop me.

My legs carry me over there in two large strides, and before Connor knows what’s happening, my fist connects with his face on a loud crack. “What the f*ck is wrong with you?” I hiss, spitting the words at him.

He stumbles backwards, blood spurting from his nostrils. “What the hell? I think you b-broke my nose.”

“Yeah, and you f*cking deserved it.” I flex my fist, jonesing for another hit. “You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing.” Sniffling from behind makes me whirl around. Ember’s eyes are dimmed with sadness and my insides crumble. I reach out to cup her cheek and wipe away a falling tear. “Let’s get out of here.”

The crowd that gathered to watch our little sideshow disperses. As we walk past Connor on the ground holding his nose and muttering a string of curses, I wrap a protective arm around Ember’s waist and lead her toward the exit. We leave Julian who decides to hang back for a while.

Ember hesitates in front of the bar. “I need a drink,” she admits. “Maybe more than one.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a very good idea.” She sidles her way up to the bar, tapping on the counter to attract the bartender’s attention. In rapid succession, she sucks down two shots of Tequila and a shot of Vodka. If it were any other time, I’d probably stop her. But I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind right now other than wanting to numb it.

Dragging her wrist across her mouth, she stares at me over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m good. Actually,” she pauses, her lips spiraling upward, “one more.”

“Ember—”

“Ah, ah.” She lifts her hand. “I think I’m entitled.” I don’t argue with her but I know she’s going to pay for this later. Plus alcohol never solves a damn thing.

The bartender slides one more across the counter and she tosses it back before slamming the tumbler down. She gathers in a deep breath. “I’m ready now.” She holds her head high as she dives into the crowd. But she doesn’t fool me. My hand rests on her lower back, guiding her. I stay behind, waiting for her to fall apart—and wanting to be there to help pick up the pieces.

The temperature has dropped, a blast of cool air greeting us that I think we both need. Ember is pensive, staring up at the spattering of stars brightening the sky. A streetlamp above casts a glow on her face, highlighting the sadness behind her eyes, in the fold of her lips. My chest hurts for her, and I want to erase that deep frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

I touch her elbow gently and lead her to the car, directing her toward the passenger side. Opening the door, I bend down to help her in then tug on the seat belt, lifting it up and over her shoulder until it clicks into place. I’m inches from her face but she doesn’t see me. Her gaze is clouded, her mind elsewhere. She’s lost and I need to bring her back.

But then she laughs.

“You broke his nose.”

Pride swells in my chest. “I did.” And the son-of-a-bitch deserved it.

“You messed up his face.”

“He was too pretty anyway,” I counter. He needed life to give him a wake-up call.

Her gaze strays to my red knuckles. “How’s your hand?”

I grin. “Never better.”

Ember falls quiet again, the air thick with both of our thoughts. The weight forces a necessary breath from my lungs as I close her door and round the car. Once inside, I buckle up and am about to start the engine when her small voice stops me. Gone is the laughter, replaced by something much heavier.

“I wasn’t pining away for Zack,” she insists, staring out at the dark road. Already, I want another chance at that *’s face. “It was just… really hard. He was such a big part of who I was, who I am, and… I couldn’t fathom how to go on without him.” Her words hit close to home and a chill slides across my skin. “When all the cakes and casseroles stopped coming and the doorbell stopped ringing, it was just the four of us.” She pauses, inhaling a deep breath. “And the silence was deafening. I felt like… everyone else kept living. Going on with their lives as if nothing had happened… and I had this gaping hole in my heart.”

Pain rushes from her eyes and my soul feels as if it’s being ripped apart. “The only person who could fill it was the one who was never coming back,” she whispers, and I reach out to grasp her chin, turning her face to mine. “I miss him so much,” she whispers again, tears streaming down, eyes pleading with mine for acknowledgement, understanding. I want to give her whatever she needs—and far beyond that as well.

“Oh, sweetheart.” My thumb brushes back and forth over her skin. “I know how much you were hurting. The kind of hurt there’s no remedy for.” I raise my other hand to cup her cheek, staring hard into her eyes. “It’s okay to let yourself feel that.” She nods on a short intake of breath. “And I understand,” I murmur with a soft smile. “I do.”