Page 14 of Shattered Veil

Shawn called out, “Jay! Come on.”

He stood three cars away by a small, red hatchback—a vehicle that I most definitely knew was not his—and his eyes were wide and disbelieving as he stared at me with a look that screamed, ‘The hell are you doing, Turner? Fess up.’

“Brooks,” I warned him, “now is not the time. Stop eavesdropping; I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

He rolled his eyes so hard that his head followed them. “James.”

I bit out, “Shawn!”

Shawn nearly flinched at my yell of his name, and I saw his shoulders sag. “Fine, man—Monday.”

He began to walk away, and Cassie complained, “So, you’re just being a dick to everyone right now, or what?”

I spoke to the sky, “No! I’m trying here, Jesus!”

“Trying to be nice?” She asked with a cock of her head. “Well, you’re doing a shit job at that…if you just flat out dislike me, then say it.”

“No!” I groaned. “I don’t dislike you, Cas. But fuck, it would be easier if I did.”

She squinted at me. “What…what in the world does that mean?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m being a dick—just take that at face value.”

“I’m not just gonna say, ‘Oh, well…Jay’s being an asshole. That tracks!’” Cassie scoffed. “That doesn’t track for me because you’re not. So…unless something else crawled up your ass and died, and you’re deciding to take it out on me for some reason, that leaves me with me being the problem.”

“Okay, fine. It’s you.”

Her brow pinched together as if she hadn’t heard me clearly, and she laughed a quiet, “What?”

“I said, ‘It’s you,’” I repeated bluntly, and her face fell. “It’s you that gets under my goddamn skin. There is no other explanation. It. Is. You. And I don’t want to get into it because this conversation won’t end well. It just won’t. So, please, just…go back to work.”

She uttered, “James.”

“I can’t do this anymore, Cassie!” I snapped. “Go back to fucking work!”

I didn’t even get a chance to catch her expression to my outburst. Cassie’s hair fanned out behind her as she spun on her heel and stormed her way back into the club.

My stomach twisted as I watched her walk away.

I went too far. Way too far. The aggravation of constantly having to hold my tongue around her had caught up to me, and it was no excuse. But that, combined with her sheer presence, the pull she had on me that I had to continually deny, and her questioning my behavior…it was too much, and I broke.

Maybe I was just a dick.

With that thought and a crushing weight of guilt, I began to make my way home. My thoughts swarmed me as I drove, and I made no effort to ward them away. The radio remained off, and I allowed the berating within me to continue, the silent punishment of myself one that I knew was warranted. I was unable to escape it—the scene of me cursing at her simply played over and over until I began to feel as though my self-retribution had left me battered and bruised.

Chapter 4

Isat in Henry’s in my usual seat. I had my usual drink in front of me. I could feel the cool glass against my palm and the sting of the whiskey on my tongue as I took a generous sip. I set it down, and it made a satisfying clunk against the wooden counter. The noise around me was a general, quiet hum of conversation that I was unable to discern, and the individuals who were speaking were all a blur. Liam and Zoey could have been to my right, and Luke and Claire could have been behind the bar, but I wouldn’t have known…because my focus was wholeheartedly on the presence that was sinking into the stool on my left.

I could feel her as I typically could. It was cold out, but she radiated heat. Her shirt had black sleeves that covered her arms down to her wrists, and I saw the material as she reached for my drink. I honed in on it as she lifted it to her mouth, watched the liquid touch her lips, and saw her throat bob as she swallowed. I wanted to be that liquor. I think she knew that…and she smiled wide. For whatever unknown reason, the wall that I had forcibly placed between us in the past was notably absent, and I breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling of being unrestrained.

The glass remained in Cassie’s hand, she lifted it toward me in a cheersing motion, and her dark eyes danced.

“I like this one.”

“It’s the same whiskey I get every time,” I reminded her.

Her mouth stretched further. “I know.” A full drink slid before me from the unknown blur behind the counter, and as I reached for it, she asked, “You’re hanging around this time?”

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