“Have you-”
“Been to the races? Yes.”
“Oh my-”
“It's not like dad thinks it is-”
“But it's still against the law, Jo'!”
I snap loudly, “There are a lot of things wrong with the law, Nadie!”
“Do not raise your voice at me.”
What is wrong with me? Why can't I talk about this calmly?
Nadie runs a hand through her hair. “That may be true. Laws aren't always perfect, but the law is there for a reason Jovi. And it's your father who fights to protect and serve and keep it in place.”
I shake my head slowly. “Doesn't mean he's always right.”
“Hell, it doesn't mean the law is always right either, but that fact is, you follow it or have to deal with the consequences. Whether those consequences are fines or jail time, everyone has to answer for the crimes they committed at some point, especially those involved in the racing world. Your father is relentless about it.”
In a short I whisper I snap, “I know.”
That worries me a little more than I care to confess.
“Now please tell me you've never raced.”
Stop laughing! I can drive!
“No. And I've never asked. Doesn't matter anyway. Merrick may drive a little fast sometimes, but he considers me precious cargo and would never put my life at risk like that,” I coo sweetly, missing him already.
Nadie fights the urge to smile at the comment. “Did you know Ben was involved in criminal activity?”
“No. Well, street racing aside. I had no idea other than what dad mentioned.”
“What about Merrick? Is he involved in anything illegal besides street racing? Drug dealing? Drug using? Stealing? Prost-”
“No!” I bite quickly. “Of course not! God Nadie! Just because he street races doesn't make him some big city criminal!”
Instead of arguing her point, she surrenders a hand.
I am not overreacting.
“How...how is he dealing with Ben's death?”
“I don't know. He's shutting me out.”
“He's just grieving, Jo'.”
“I know,” my voice says faintly. “Doesn't mean it hurts less.”
“I know,” Nadie echoes. “Just...be patient.” When I nod she adds, “And be prepared to fight because now's the time to confess it all, Jovi. You're dad's out for the night I have a feeling, but tomorrow. Tomorrow you're gonna have to come clean. Shiny, Windex clean. You need to face this head on.” Before I have a chance to argue she sighs, “And I suggest you reevaluate everything you wanna say and how you wanna say it because despite how you're feeling right now, I'm here for you. I'm on your side. I'm here to help you get through all this.”
Thank God for that. Nadie really is the best mom I could ask for. I'm not even sure my actual mom would be this understanding. This accommodating to me and dad's attitude. Then again if she hadn't died, I wonder if he would've become this dark and brooding. What if that happens to Merrick? What if I can't save him before he does something crazy or out of control? What if Ben's death is the callous that turns him from the full of life soul consuming creation into something I don't recognize? Something so grim and hopeless he wanders into a void I can't reach him in. Why do I feel like it's already starting?
Merrick
Haven't slept. Haven't ate. Haven't done much more than get trapped in memories of Ben and fucked up what ifs. No. Not just the what ifs you're thinking. Not just the what ifs I've been asking since Madden told me, but what if he were here right now? What if he would've cleaned up his act? What if he would've fell in love some day? Had kids? What if he could've had everything I want? What if...what if he would've came with me to leave all this bullshit behind and start over?
The radio changes to “Bitch Better Have My Money” and instantly my shoulders slump.
It's like he can fucking hear me. Can he? Is it crazy to think that he can?
“Oh Merrick,” Azura sighs as she leans on her arms across from me. “You do know that drowning your sorrows in top shelf tequila isn't going to make you feel any better right?”
Relax. I haven't even had more than a fucking sip, which is fucking pathetic. I've been here for hours. I stopped paying attention after the third hour. No telling how long ago that was. Here's a note you might want to write down though. Watered down tequila is worse than regular tequila. Trust me.
I lift my eyes up slowly from the glass I've been staring into.
“That's bourbon.” Her jokes get s a small grin out of me.
Don't point it out.
“Ben hated bourbon. Said it burned too bad. When Triple D made fun of him for it he said 'Doesn't matter anyway. Tequila makes her clothes come off'.” Another smile briefly flashes on my face. “Fucking Ben...”
She sighs again and pushes up her falling glasses. “He was charming in his own...perverted way.”
Curious my eyebrows rise. “You spent time around Ben?”
“I've spent time around all of you,” she informs.
That can't be fucking true. I barely remember running into her other than that time at the pool party and once before when she was stumbling out of the apartment in the middle of the night.
Seeing my disbelief she explains, “Triple D comes in a lot for pre screwing drinks and Madden comes in for post.”
“I...I didn't know my brothers had drinking routines like that or hell, even at this bar.”
“It's a great spot,” Azura insists. “I'm guessing it was Ben who had mentioned this place?”
Reluctantly I nod. “Did he...Did he have a routine here too?”
We have been tag team partners, but we did have time apart. Especially after I met Jovi. Fuck. Maybe I should've never met her. Maybe he'd still be alive.
“Ben popped in whenever. No rhyme or reason. Just...whenever he felt like it I guess.”
“That was Ben,” I mutter under my breath. “Did whatever the fuck he wanted...when he wanted...”
Azura leans in a little closer.
Don't worry. Not that close.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No,” I snap. “I'm so tired of people wanting me to fucking talk about it. What the fuck is there to talk about? He fucking died. I'm fucking alive. There. Talk had.”
Azura gives me a short smile, pats the bar in front of me, and walks away.
Fuck. That was....I'm being...Fuck. I know. She didn't deserve that. I'll apologize. Chill. Chill. I swear. I'll apologize.
My eyes search for where she abandoned me to. It only takes a moment for me to spot her refilling an older man's beer at the end of the bar to the left. His beard is salt and pepper like his hair, his clothes are oil stained much like his skin, and his face looks worn out. Tired from the weight of work. Or maybe life.
Is that what I'm going to look like if I don't get out of here? If I stay behind and manage to stay alive that long?
I watch Azura politely smile at him, the gesture what he seems to need to further relax. Afterward she turns her back to busy herself a good distance from me.
Oh don't say that. I already feel shitty enough.
“Hey,” I call to her. When she glances over her shoulder at me I finish with, “Sorry. I didn't mean to be such a dick.”
Grabbing the glass she had been drying she strolls back towards me. “I know you didn't. I'm not mad.”
Baffled I question, “Really?”
“Really.”
“Most chicks-”
“Contrary to you and Triple D's beliefs, I am not most chicks.”
Do you feel like we missed something?