Epiphany (7 page)

Another hour or so and I’m finally on my way home. After the few drinks I’ve had,
I really shouldn’t be driving anywhere.
Knowing Mira, if I’m not home, she’ll have my ass.
I send her a quick text, letting her know I’m on my way, yet it goes unanswered.

Pulling straight into my parking spot, I glance around and don’t see Mira’s car.

“It’s been hours. Where the fuck is she?” I mutter aloud to myself.

Pulling my phone from the breast pocket on my vest, I hit dial on her number.
Straight to voicemail.
In all the time I’ve known Mira, her phone’s never been off.

I probably bit off more than I can chew keeping this from her. I just don’t know
what else I’m supposed to do.

Heading upstairs, I figure I’ll wait around for a while before I start calling around
for her. There are only a few places she would go—probably her mom’s or Kylee’s—so
I’m not too concerned.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mira

I couldn’t bring myself to go home and just wait. I’ve never questioned him before
and the one time I do, he dances around the issue instead of simply answering. Who
does that? A man backed into a corner searching for an easy out … that’s who.
Or a lying ass politician not wanting to upset the masses.
Either way, he’s a fucking asshole.

I know as soon as he gets home and realizes I’m not there, the phone calls and text
messages will start. So, after I reach my destination, I immediately power down my
phone and leave it in the car. I usually wouldn’t do this, but if he calls and I
see it, I already know I’ll be too confrontational and say things I don’t mean. This
is for the best.

Taking the few steps to the front door, I breathe in quickly, blow out softly and
try to ease my nerves. This will either help me figure out my next step or blow up
in my face.

Knock knock.
The sound of the brass door knocker hitting the metal plates scares the crap out
of me. I should have hit the
bell, it would have been a nicer welcome—not so Adams Family.

“Coming,” Danny calls from the other side, probably rushing to see who the hell’s
at his house so late. Oh God, what if he’s
with
Melissa.
My gag reflex is fully tested and working to the best of its ability
. The mental images are enough. Please, don’t let them be in the middle of something.
I do not want an invitation to that party.

“Oh … Um … Hey?”
He opens the heavy wooden door, hair wet and smelling crisp and fresh like early
morning dew.

“I hope it’s
okay that I just came by.” I quickly remember Danny and I aren’t as close as we
used to be. I’m sure there’s some kind of etiquette regarding stopping by an ex’s
this late in the evening.

“Yeah.
Sure. Come in,” he says, ushering me into the foyer. “Is everything okay? Is
Sky here, too?” Danny sticks his head out of the door, perusing the driveway, probably
expecting Skylar to make his way up the walk.

Here comes the hard part. This is the scene that unfolded itself the entire drive
here. I hope he doesn’t laugh in my face. I really just need someone to talk to.

“It’s just me. Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here? I don’t wanna piss off Melissa.”
Second thoughts rack my brain, every logical bone in my body yelling for me to walk
out of this house and pretend I never came in the first place.

“Mel’s at work. They put her on nights a few weeks ago. You’re fine,” Danny replies,
walking ahead of me into the living room. Would she be pissed if she knew I was here?
Is he not going to tell her? Am I over stepping? This is too much thinking and not
enough drinking.

Bypassing the sofa, I head straight for the liquor cabinet.
Vodka … no, not in the mood.
Scotch—really expensive scotch … nope, too fancy for my blood.
An unopened bottle of 1800 … hello, old friend.
Yes the hell please!

Opening the cap, I don’t waste time with formalities like glasses. Instead, I take
an extra large, rather painful pull straight from the bottle—the Mexican fire burning
the entire way down, settling harshly in the pit of my empty stomach.

Twisting my face in discomfort, half sighing, half gagging, I sit in the overused,
dingy recliner he’s had since Freshman
year. Getting situated, very un-ladylike with an open bottle of Jose between my
thighs, I wait for him to initiate conversation. I’m actually enjoying just being
in his company. I really don’t even have to talk. But then again, this is how our
relationship always was. No need to discuss every detail of life, we just … were.

“So, what’s new?” I ask, wanting to know how his life’s been going and stay away from
the hell I’ve been living in. I tried, I really did, to just sit still and wait for
it. Silence and I are not the best of friends.

“Not too much. Maybe we should talk about why you’re here at eleven at night, drinking
tequila like
it’s water and trying to deflect?”

And this round of Pin the Tail on the Mira goes to Danny Fucking Thomas. A round
of applause is in order—even if it’s just in my head.

“Oh, you know, the typical shit. My mom’s dating a guy named Chip. Yeah, I said
Chip. Kylee and Jacoby are doing
good, I guess. I’m engaged, but you don’t care. Oh, and the kicker, my fiancé can’t
keep his dick in his pants.”

An audible gasp fills the air. I’m just not sure if it’s from a shocked Danny or
me in disbelief that I actually said that last part out loud.

Since my mouth’s the only one hanging open, ready to catch flies, I’ll go with me.
Welcome to the effects of tequila on an empty stomach, kids. Inhibitions go straight
out the window, along with any kind of decency. Another long guzzle and I cap the
bottle, passing it over to Danny. Hopefully he’ll hide the booze and save me from
the shit show where I’ve cast myself as the lead.

“Well, good
for your mom and Kylee. But who has a name like Chip?”

“Thank you,” I say, louder than intended, waiving my arm in front of me.

“And I do care about your engagement.” I sarcastically huff and roll my eyes. If
he cares, he sure has an amazing way of showing it.

“But what’s this about Skylar and his dick? He’s cheating?” I nod my head and purse
my lips, wishing I still had the tequila.

“How do you know he’s cheating? Did you catch him? Fill me in here. I’m missing
some key details.” He better not even think about sticking up for him right now.
I came here because I needed someone on my side. I’m not looking for some kind of
Dr. Phil rationalization. I’m fucking pissed.

There’s really only one thing to tell.
“Maddie.
That’s her name. Kim dropped it earlier tonight. Prowler wouldn’t tell me who
she was. When I asked Skylar, he told me it was club business and is acting all secretive
and shit.
So, yeah.
They all suck at life.”

“Wait.
Maddie.
Like Maddie Fletcher?”

“I don’t know. If I had the whore’s last name, I would have social media stalked
her already. Who’s Maddie Fletcher?” My curiosity’s piqued. Could it be the same
slut bag?

“Madyson Fletcher, Maddie, is Prowler’s niece. Sky and I grew up with her. Last
I heard, though, she was married to some guy from high school or something.
Couldn’t be the same girl.”
His dark blue eyes looking up and to the left, deep in thought, trying to help me
put the pieces together, but all he’s doing is giving me useless information.

Why would Skylar be screwing around with Prowler’s niece and Skylar not have his ass
kicked? What if Prowler agrees and is helping them be together? I really hate this
bullshit bond of brotherhood.

“Unless she’s just another patch whore looking for her next biker, in this case, her
uncle’s sergeant.
You know how those bitches are.”

“But Madyson was never like that. Prowler always kept a tight rein on her. One of
his prospects tried to take her to Prom and Prowler had a fit. Since Skylar already
had a date, I got elected to escort Maddie. That was only because Prowler knew and
trusted me.
Has to be someone else.”

“Yeah.
Whatever.
I’ll find out. And when I do, all the sluts better watch their asses.” Oh yeah,
the booze is doing all the talking tonight.

Another fifteen minutes of pointless conversation—Danny trying to take my mind off
Skylar getting his fill of club ass—Danny’s phone starts chirping.

“Who’s that?” I question, like I have some kind of rights to his caller ID.

Without pause, he answers my demand, “Skylar.”

Panic sets in and I sober up quicker than I ever have before. How can I bitch about
him being with some girl, when I got upset and fled to my ex’s house?
Shit
, this
is
going to blow up. Suddenly feeling stupid and hypocritical, I don’t know what to
do.

“Don’t answer,” I beg, the only thing I can think of.

“No, Mira. Your phone hasn’t gone off at all tonight. Where is it?” Danny glances
around for my cell, which of course, is nowhere in sight since it’s locked safely
in my center console.

“Turned off.
In the car.”
I blush, embarrassed at my childish actions.
I really thought that in the last year I really grew as a person. I guess I was
wrong. I’m just as immature as I was before.

“Hello,” he immediately answers before it goes to voicemail, putting it on speaker
and sitting the phone in the middle of the coffee table.

“D. I
can’t find Mira. Kylee and her mom haven’t heard from her. We got in a fight and
now she’s gone,” the distraught tone of his voice rings loudly in my ears, and in
my soul. “I just knew she’d be with one of them. I don’t know what to do. Oh, shit
Danny, I fucked up bad.”

Feeling all kinds of guilty, I own my choice and speak up, not wanting Danny to do
my talking for me. “I’m here.”

“Mi?
Is that you?” he chokes out, relief evident in his words. I scoot closer to the
table, palm the phone and look at the picture of Sky that shows up on Danny’s caller
ID. I should have had this talk with Skylar before I ran to Danny. Finally deciding
to give Skylar the respect he deserves in this situation, I turn off the speaker and
put the phone to my ear.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I try to stay distant, yet collected. He’s hurt me, there’s no
denying that, but I didn’t need to try to hurt him back. I just wish we could go
back to when everything was perfect.

“Why are you there? Are you leaving me? Did I fuck up that bad?” His questions
break my heart. I love him so much and to think I caused him this kind of pain is
detrimental to my sanity. I don’t think I could ever leave him. Not even over Maddie.
I only wish he felt the same about hurting me.

“Are you home?” I ask, not wanting to do this on the phone or in front of Danny.

“Yeah.
When I didn’t see your car, I panicked. Are you okay? You’re coming back, right?”
Knife to the gut, I’m not sure how long I can keep my tears at bay.

“I’m leaving here in a few. I’ll ask Danny to drive me. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Why does he need to give you a ride? Are you drunk?” Skylar questions, a little
more edge to his tone.

“I had a few drinks, but I’m not drunk.
Better safe than sorry, though.
Don’t worry.”

“Alright.
Soon.”
Skylar’s end of the line hangs up first and I know the minute I walk through that
door, we’re going to be talking about a lot more than what he’s been up to. Even
though my visit here tonight is completely innocent, I feel guilty beyond measure.

I peer over at Danny who’s looking at me confused.

“You just told me he’s cheating on you, but you’re going back? And needing
me
to drive you there? You have to be drunk or crazy … maybe a little bit of both.”

“Please just take me home. I needed a friend to vent to, not a judge and jury. If
I can’t talk to you about these things, just let me know. I’m sorry to have put you
in this position, it wasn’t my intention.”

“After everything, Mira.
Everything you went through.
I went through
. He steals you from me just to dick around behind your back. How is this fair?”

Danny’s assessment hits me harder than the tequila ever could.
Stole me from him?
He’s still hurting. Oh fuck, he’s resentful of my relationship with Skylar. Did
I give him false hope coming here tonight? No, he has Melissa, right?
Shitballs.
I’ve screwed with the beehive and stole the honey … or however the hell that saying
goes.
Oh hell.

“But everything worked out, right? If Skylar and I wouldn’t have realized our feelings,
you wouldn’t have found Melissa.”

Instead of driving me home right away, Danny pulls out a loaf of bread and brews a
pot of coffee. I would have to agree with him—if I don’t get something in my stomach
and start to sober up now, by the time I get home I’ll be shit faced drunk and sleeping
in the bathroom all night. There’s no way I need to have any kind of conversation
with Skylar when I won’t remember my own name.

Once Danny places a cup and a piece of toast in front of me, he finally responds to
my earlier question, completely rocking my world. Not the OMG-that-was-amazing kind
of world rocked. I’m talking the kind where you’re choking on your tongue, not sure
how to respond so something so insane.

“Mel’s great and all, she’s just not you.”

CHAPTER NINE

Danny

I should have just left well enough alone. Why did I have to say anything at all?
We were doing so well without saying anything. Now, I’ve screwed everything up.