Page 124 of Paint the Town, Dove
I shrugged. “You already hate me, don’t you? We’re already over?”
“Over? What the hell are you talking about right now?”
“I ruined my image” –sniff– “got the label on my back about a duet with some chick. I hate working with people – I’vehatedworking with people since –”
We both averted our gaze, sinking back into the memory ofourEmory, a haunting presence we both shared – a ghost chained to our backs.
“The band, they’re good. They’re solid, you know. My boys, Dove. I never wanted to work with another singer…shewas too –”
“Good, I know,” she finished. “She could’ve, um.” Scarlett paused. “She could’ve been here.”
“Lots of people could have been,” I choked out a laugh. “Lots of people choose to leave before the curtains rise.”
“Ryden –”
“AND THEN!” I laughed harder. “And then they magically come back, right? As if they never left – as if they were entitled ALL ALONG to the success, the money – all of it. Theirs, theirs, theirs.”
Scarlett stalked towards me, stepping on my boots. Her hand was on my shoulder then, a breath’s kiss away from my flickering pulse. “The dead can’t haunt you.”
“No, no they can’t,” I whispered, resting my forehead against hers. “Doesn’t mean they won’t try.”
Slowly, she pulled back, and I felt my skin detaching from my body. My brain sparred against my heart until my instinct gave way, and my being craved her closeness.
“Don’t move,” I pleaded. “I didn’t drink much, I –”Fuck– “I knew you’d come. I’ll… remember this, I promise.”
She obeyed. “You’re a functioning alcoholic, Ry.”
“I can’t function without you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, you know that.”
“But that doesn’t mean you want to stay,” I veered back to look at her. “I know you want to leave. I know you feel tied to me. I know this isn’t whatI promised us– what you wanted. I could’ve done better. I tried to do better.
Remember when we were kids, and I got that job for Ms. Beverley, at the estate?”
She nodded, a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. “You walked up and down the highway with a yard sale sign.”
“I did, I really fucking did,” I chuckled, brushing the hair from her temple.Leaning down, I placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done, Scar.”
She swallowed. “I know.”
“We made it this far.”
“I know that, too.”
“I’ve been through worse.”
“We both have.”
I knocked my head against the booth, still cradling her in my arms. “Then why can’t I shake this shit? Why can’t I be strong?”
She gripped my shirt, balling her first against the fabric. “You’ve been strong for too long.”
“Ifeelweak,” I admitted, sucking in a breath. Fire bubbled in my lungs, a single tear dripped down to my lips. It tasted like mezcal.
Her fingers wrapped around the back of my neck, and I fought the urge to lift her into my arms, wrap her legs around me and take her right in this fucking photobooth because let’s face it –
She’s all I yearned for.
