Awaken Me (The Jaded Series Book 4) (4 page)

“What in the hell did I do?” I ask.

He drops the rag on the bar and then taps his chin, like he’s contemplating his answer. He looks back at me and says, “Hmm… I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you treat Chris like shit.”

“Andrew—” I start, but he talks over me.

“And maybe because you accused Jase of purposely bringing danger to her. That was a dick move, Nick. And poor Chris. All she wants to do is help. And what do you do? Call her nasty names and belittle her. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I grit my teeth, trying to control my temper. It may make me a selfish bastard, but none of these people know the debilitating pain I go through every single fucking day. Yes, they loved Anna as well, but it’s different when you lose someone who was everything to you. Your entire fucking world. Someone who meant so much to you that you know you’ll never be the same again without them. My life used to be bright and beautiful. Now it’s dull, dark, and gray.

I get up from my stool and turn to face him, my face going hard and my hands clenched at my sides.

“You have no fucking clue, Andrew. No idea of what I’m going through. All of you tell me to be nice to Chris,” I sneer. “Chris just wants to help. Why won’t you let her? Why are you being such a dick? You all act like I still have a heart left.” I thump my chest with my fist and raise my voice. “It’s gone! There’s nothing there anymore. It died along with Anna and is buried right beside her! I don’t give a shit if Chris wants to help! There’s nothing anyone can do!”

I stop. My chest heaves from my outburst, adrenaline rushing through me. Andrew’s eyes soften and it just pisses me off even more.

“Nick, I may not know the extent of your pain, but don’t you think I feel an inkling of it? We all lost Anna. I almost lost Jase. When he was on the ground with blood surrounding him, I thought my world was ending. I couldn’t breathe and the pain in my chest was—”

I don’t let him finish. Laughing harshly, I pick up my beer and throw it across the room. I turn back to Andrew and roar, “He’s still here! You still have him! He’s not gone!” I lower my voice. “So no, there’s no fucking way you could come even close to feeling what I am. What I go through every night when I close my eyes. What I wake up to when I dream. The pain that’s imbedded so deep in my empty heart that it feels like it’s literally killing me.” I shake my head and take a deep breath. “Until you lose the one person that gives your life meaning, leave me the hell alone. Chris tries so fucking hard, you all do, to do something that’s just not possible.”

Before he can say another word and set off my ire again, I turn on my heel and stomp to the door. Slamming it open with my fist, I storm outside. I tip my head back, take a lungful of crisp air, and just stand there for a minute with my hands on my hips.

After calming my breathing and my racing heart, I walk over to my truck and climb inside. A thought comes to mind while I drive the short distance to my house. Maybe it’s time I move. There’s nothing but memories here that constantly plague me. People normally say that the good always outweighs the bad. That remembering the good times is supposed to help with the bad memories. I’ve tried it. That shit doesn’t work. All it does is remind me of what the future could have been like. It reinforces the notion that I wasn’t there for Anna when I needed to be. I failed her, and now because of that, she has no future. Neither of us do.

I toss around the idea of moving away from the place I grew up. Could I really up and move like that? I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but I’ll miss the people here, especially my friends. However, I know having me around has been hard on them because of the shit I’ve pulled. I know they would miss me as well, but I can’t help but to think they may be better off if I leave, at least for a while. Will
I
be better off? Would it help me get over losing Anna? It’s definitely something to think about, because I know damn good and well one of the times I rent one of those shitty hotel rooms, I’ll end up following through.

I jerk awake and try to clear my mind of visions of Anna once again dying in my arms. The dream started off sweet, with her running toward the lake on Jaxon’s property, laughing. I was chasing after her. I dove underneath the surface and pulled her legs out from underneath her. We both surfaced sputtering water, laughing. I caught her in my arms and planted my lips against hers. She tasted so sweet, like cinnamon cookies. We leisurely explored each other’s mouths until we were breathless.

Pulling away from her, I rested my forehead against hers and whispered for the first time, “I love you, Anna Banana.”

She smiled her beautiful smile and whispered back, “I love you, too.”

I was fifteen and she was fourteen. We had been dating for a year. I had known I loved her a long time before then. I had no idea why I waited so long to tell her and make her mine. I knew she loved me too. Maybe I wanted to wait until we were older and really knew what love meant. We were still young, but I knew in that moment I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and I buried my face in her thick blonde hair. When I pulled back, it wasn’t the young Anna I had just kissed in the lake. It was the broken Anna outside that cabin. She was bloody, bruised, and lying there dying. It felt like I was dying in that moment along with her.

That’s when I woke up. Sometimes the dreams play out to the end and sometimes I can force myself to wake up before she dies.

I run my fingers through my hair and growl in frustration. These dreams are slowly killing me. I don’t need to worry about me offing myself; the dreams and memories and broken promises are doing it for me. Some people may say I feel sorry for myself and I need to get over my shit, but getting over this isn’t so simple. Not when every piece of yourself feels like it’s being ripped from you until there’s nothing left. I know I need help, but there’s no way I’ll talk to anyone about it. If you haven’t gone through it, then there’s no way you can offer help.

I get up from the bed and walk into the bathroom. After throwing some water on my face, I make my way into the kitchen. I open the cabinet above the coffeemaker and grab the bottle of whiskey. It’s about half-empty. I’ll need to make a run for more tomorrow. There’s no way I’ll get any sleep without it. The dreams are always worse when I’m at home. Just another reason I should leave. Maybe one day I’ll be able to come back without having my heart ripped out of my chest the moment I stroll into town.

Forgoing a glass, my bottle and I step out onto my wraparound porch. The place is old and needs updating. Anna and I had planned on doing it together after we married. All the magazines and notebooks for our plans for the place are still down in the basement. I had planned on asking Anna to marry me on our anniversary, but she died a couple months before.

Now, I just don’t care. Yes, it’s my family’s home, but it was supposed to be a project for both of us.

I take a seat on the wicker loveseat outside and uncap the bottle. Taking a big swallow, I lean my head back against the back of the seat and close my eyes. I see a flash of red hair and green eyes in my mind and it irritates me. Chris is invading my mind more and more lately. Ever since that day at Jaxon’s. The way she smelled that morning had my cock hardening. I haven’t gotten hard since the last time I was with Anna. It was like my body shut down and said fuck you. I haven’t felt even a lick of desire toward another woman since I knew Anna was it for me. Seeing Chris in her bathrobe with water dripping from her fiery hair had my body reacting. I didn’t like it. My body and heart only wanted Anna, and when it showed signs of life for another woman, I almost lost my shit. I don’t want to feel anything for her. I don’t want my body to tense or my blood to heat when looking at her.

Even if I could get over Anna’s death, there’s no way I would ever get involved with another woman. Life is full of surprises and unpredictable things. Taking the chance of going through that kind of pain again is not worth it. Who’s to say I would be there for the next girl? Who’s to say I wouldn’t fail her too? I won’t take that chance again.

I take another healthy swig of the bottle and look out over my property. It belonged to my parents. They both died in a car crash when I was seventeen. Luckily, the courts deemed me old enough to care for myself. I have no other family left. If I decide to move, I would have to either sell the place or pay someone to take care of it for me. I don’t know if I would be able to sell it. My grandfather built it for my grandmother when they got married.

I chug the rest of the bottle and set it down on the table beside the loveseat. The temperature has dropped and my feet are cold, but I don’t feel like going back inside. Sometimes when I first walk in, I swear I smell Anna’s perfume. It hits me again in those moments.

I lean my head back again and close my eyes. The alcohol coursing through my body has my eyes dropping closed. Hopefully I’ll be able to get some type of sleep, even if I do freeze my ass off in the process.

I wake the next morning with a headache from hell and my balls shriveled up so far they’re almost nonexistent. My feet feel numb when I try to wiggle my toes. The sun is barely starting to rise, and I hear a rooster crowing off in the distance somewhere. I turn my neck from side to side to try and loosen the muscles. When I go to stand up, dizziness hits, and I drop back down. Groaning from the impact of my ass hitting the seat and jostling my head, I squeeze my eyes shut.

Too much fucking drink. Too bad it’s the only thing that helps.

Gritting my teeth and ignoring the pounding in my head, I grab the empty bottle of whiskey, get up, and walk into the house. My stomach grumbles, making me realize I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. Definitely not good when you’ve been drinking. I walk to the fridge and open it. Nothing edible. Of course there wouldn’t be anything; I’ve been gone a month.

I pop a couple of pain pills for my head and make my way to the bathroom. Shower and a trip to Evelyn’s Market for food and whiskey is needed.

Once I’m done, and still feeling like shit, I grab my keys and wallet and head out to my truck. The trip only takes a few minutes. As I pass by a small house, I see a realtor sign out front. I mentally remember the name and number to call them later. I haven’t made up my mind, but I’d like to know my options if I decide to move and sell the property.

I snatch one of the small buggies and start loading it up with a few things. Guilt hits me when I walk up to the cooler that houses the beer. I know I’m drinking too much, but I’m at the point where I don’t care. I’ll do anything to help keep the dreams and memories at bay. They still slip through when I’m in a drunken haze, but not as often. I’ll take any relief I can get. It’s not that I want to completely forget, I just don’t want it to hurt so bad.

I push the guilt aside and stick two twenty-four packs of Sam Adams in the bottom of the buggy. Then I make my way over to the liquor shelf and grab a few bottles of Jack. I have nothing pressing to do, so it doesn’t matter if I decide to get hammered.

The cashier looks at me with pity when she rings me up, and I bite back a retort. These people may know what happened, but it doesn’t give them the right to judge. Until they feel the pain I live with on a daily basis, they can keep their pity to themselves.

After putting the shit in the back of the truck, I make my way around to the driver side. My eye catches on Maggie’s Diner across the street. I think about going in and saying hi to Maggie, but I decide against it. I hate going in there and don’t do it very often. It’s another place where the memories bombard me.

Another memory surfaces of me driving into town yesterday. Chris and Bailey were walking down the road. Unwillingly, my eyes were drawn to her until I had no choice but to force them back on the road. I ended up on the shoulder with my head turned toward them. I watched as Chris and Bailey made it to Maggie’s. Right before they walked inside, Chris turned her head and looked straight at me. I knew she couldn’t see me through the tint of the glass, but it
felt
like she was looking all the way into my soul. I hadn’t seen her since that morning over a month ago, and I’ll never admit it to anyone, but I missed seeing her. However, the look in her eyes had my brows drawing down into a frown. She looked unhappy. A pang hit my chest at the look. Pissed at the emotion, I turned back around and drove away.