Page 35 of Into These Eyes
Besides, the alcohol’s already working its magic. I’m no longer shaking, and there’s a nice fuzziness creeping into my over stimulated brain.
When I’m done, I plonk on the couch in front of the television, but as hard as I try to concentrate, my mind keeps drifting back to that caravan.
To Gavin Lake.
The very thought of him used to make my skin crawl and my blood pressure rise. No more, apparently. He’s an innocent man my father stole sixteen years from. Well, that’s an understatement. My father’s still stealing from him. Even though Gavin’s out of prison, he’s not free. He can’t go wherever he wants, can’t have the career he deserves, can’t even have a fucking drink.
It’s up to me to get his conviction quashed, to put his life back in his own hands. I don’t for a second regret promising I’ll do that for him. But it’s another burden I have to bear on top of everything else right now.
And although I’m a lawyer, I’ll have to conduct some research into how to go about reversing a conviction. That’s not part of the law I’ve studied. Doesn’t matter. I’m a fast learner and I know people who can help. But it does fall to me. I’m the only person on this planet who heard my father’s confession.
I take another long swallow of the liquid that’s starting to numb me. As it slides down my throat, I remember Gavin’s words again. I shouldn’t be alone. I suppose I shouldn’t be drinking on my own either.
As I glance around the empty living room, I realise that apart from the flickering TV, it’s dark. When did that happen?
Agitated, I get up, head to my bedroom and stare at the bed. One part of me wants to collapse onto it, fall asleep anddisappear into oblivion. Another part knows I’m not anywhere near drunk enough to do that yet. I’ll just lie there going over everything. Round and round and round until I want to scream.
I need more alcohol, but I shouldn’t sit here and drink alone.
After booking an Uber, I change out of my pyjamas and put on a summery white dress and a little makeup. I consider letting my hair down, but I’m not in the mood to try and tame it, so I neaten up my ponytail instead.
My reflection tells me I’m not good enough, but it also tells me I don’t give a fuck.
Once I get to the leagues club I’ve been to with a couple of colleagues, I find the classier cocktail bar at the rear of the venue and position myself on a tall stool at the bar.
I’m not drunk. Yet. So I have no problem ordering a Long Island Iced Tea from the young bartender. By the time he places it in front of me, I tell him to start making another. And so begins my mission to obliterate my problems.
Chapter 16
Gavin
It feels like I’ve only just drifted off to sleep when my phone buzzes beside my head on the tiny nightstand.
Prying my eyes open, I stare at the screen. Not a number I recognise.
Pissed at being woken when I have to get up for work in less than hours, I’m more than ready to let whoever’s on the other end of the line have it.
“What?” I snap.
“This Gavin Lake?” a man asks.
“Who wants to know?”
“Jamie Evans.”
What the fuck?“You don’t sound like Jamie Evans.”
“Yeah,” he says, “I mean, this’s her phone.”
Heart racing, I sit up. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
“I don’t know, man. She just handed me her phone and told me to call you. That she’d promised you or something. She’s pretty wasted. I wouldn’t wanna leave her unattended much longer, if you know what I mean.”
After a short conversation regarding her location, I book an Uber, pull on jeans and runners and slip on the only button-down shirt I own, hoping the club doesn’t discriminate against wrinkles.
Once in the car, I realise I now have her number. Scrabbling with my phone, I quickly add it to my contacts. Sitting back, my chest relaxes a little. Not that I’ll abuse the honour of having her number. It simply makes me feel better knowing she’s not completely out of reach.
When I arrive at the leagues club, the receptionist signs me in and directs me to the cocktail bar.
