Overtime(31)

“Will you come back?”

He nodded and pulled the door open. “Yeah, I’ll text you.”

“And you won’t go out for a drink?” she asked then, causing him to pause.

He wanted to turn and say he’d never do such a thing.

But that would make him a liar.

Ignoring her last question, he told her bye and slammed the door shut before heading to his truck. Getting in, he went around the two cars in the driveway and ignored Lacey as she tried to wave him down from the porch. Speeding down their street, he hit the main road and couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears fell down his face, wetting his beard and splattering all over his black tee. He couldn’t believe he had done what he did to her.

She had been pregnant.

And alone.

If he hadn’t been so f*cked up and trying so hard to forget her, he would have been there for her. He would have married her on the spot so her dad and Karson wouldn’t have killed him…and because he loved her. Maybe then she wouldn’t have lost the baby. It was probably the stress of him being a complete dick that didn’t allow her body to hold on to their child. It was his fault. Everything, her heartache, her anger, their loss, he caused it all. When the hell did he ever do anything right?

He was a f*cking screw-up.

Blinking away the tears, he sucked in a breath before turning his music all the way up. Just to get lost. Just to forget what had happened back there, but there was no forgetting the pure hatred in her eyes. Or forgetting the way she said she’d loved him. Past tense. No, Kacey didn’t love him anymore. How could she? He’d broken her heart because he was a selfish drunk.

And man, he wanted a drink so bad.

Pulling into the liquor store parking lot, he didn’t even hesitate. He got out and marched into the store, despite his shaking hands and the erratic beat of his heart. His heart was telling him not to do it, to go get a milk shake instead, but his mind was telling him to forget. He had to forget. This wasn’t his first time in this store; it was one of his favorite ones because his drink was right on the counter. Reaching for a bottle of Jack, he threw a twenty down before turning away. For some reason, he didn’t want the cashier to judge him. He felt she knew that he was trying to recover, and he didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Muttering, he said, “Keep the change.”

He then marched out to the truck, the bottle heavy in his hand. But he ignored that. He needed that drink. He needed to let go of all his f*cked-up feelings. He wanted to just forget everything. Sitting down behind the wheel, he didn’t start the car or even open the bottle. He just held it, staring at the black logo, the fiery brown liquid inside. He hated the power it had over him, but he wanted it so bad.

So why hadn’t he opened the bottle?

When his phone sounded, he dug it out of his pocket, expecting it to be Lacey. But it was Natasha.

Natasha: Haven’t heard from you in a couple days? You good? How’s Mena Jane?

Ugh. Mena Jane.

Sucking in a breath, he laid the bottle down and closed his eyes. He said he wanted to be healthy for Mena Jane and Kacey, but then he was sitting here, a bottle in his hand, ready to ruin all the progress he had made. Hadn’t he just said that day that he liked being healthy? That he didn’t even miss drinking? That he couldn’t wait to show the man he had become to Kacey? Was he really ready to ruin that?

When he thought of Kacey balled up on the floor, their child dead inside of her, he felt as if he were drowning. He hated feeling like that. Despised it.

Then a tap came at the window and he looked over, his eyes wide when Elli Adler’s eyes bored into his. Her brow rose as she obviously waited for him to roll down the window. He was trying to figure out why she was there, but then he saw that she was holding bags of Chipotle. So he slowly rolled down the window, pushing the bottle off his lap into the seat. Praying the dark night would keep it hidden.

“Oh, hey, Elli.”

“Funny to see you here. Did you get Chipotle too? The kids wanted chicken nuggets and I didn’t, so I came on out and got me and Shea some Chipotle. I looked over and saw ya, came to say hi. Wanna come on by and eat with us?”

Even though the truck was on big tires, Elli’s signature heels gave her the height she needed to look him square in the eyes.

He swallowed loudly and shrugged. “Yeah, um—”

He paused when he saw her eyes dart to the seat beside him.

“Open the door, Jordie,” she demanded and he closed his eyes, letting his head hang. Not waiting for him, she reached through the open window and unlocked the door, pulling it open. Laying her bags at his feet, she surprised him when she gathered him in her arms. He went willingly. Burying his face in her neck, he drew in a breath through his nose and then blew it out of his mouth as she rubbed his back like the mother she was.

“What are you doing, Jordie?” she whispered.

But he just shrugged, unable to talk without sobbing like a child.

“I see the bottle. Did you drink it?”

He shook his head, still unable to look at her.

“Why? What happened?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms tighter around her. He was a second from saying nothing, but he knew that wouldn’t help. He had to be honest; he had to own up to his mistakes to fix them. But would Elli even care once she heard how weak he was?