Page 43 of From Ice to Grace
I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. Perhaps when the bourbon hits a certain level, the voice in your head turns into a philosopher. The kind that forces you to shed light on your mistakes, on your choices. That way you’ll keep drinking until they all quiet down and get back in the boxes you’ve buried them in.
Lifting two fingers, Mike sets down another drink. “Last one, right?” he asks, looking over my shoulder to our usual empty table. “Where’s the rest of the guys?”
I scoff. “Where they should be,” I say, before tossing back the drink in front of me. “It’s just me tonight, Mikey, so keep ‘em coming.”
He looks at me, his eyes narrowed for a second. He’s no stranger to my nights alone at his bar, although he usually looks a bit more friendly about it. Tonight, there’s a look of worry and disappointment swimming in his gaze.
Join the club, I think bitterly.
He tightens his mouth and nods slightly before refilling my glass.
“I’m taking your keys though,” he says, sliding the keys to my truck off the counter before I can stop him.
“Whatever you want, Mikey, just give me another.” He pours my fourth as soon as I knock back the third. “I’ll just get them from you later.”
“No, you won’t,” he says, his voice stern. “I’m not going to have you wreck your entire life tonight.”
His words tear a mirthless laugh from my throat. After everything that’s happened, a glass of bourbon is the least of my problems.
“You didn’t see?” I ask with a smirk. “It’s already pretty wrecked. We might as well have fun at the wake.” I toss back another drink, taking the bottle from him and pouring myself another. “You can just leave this here, Mikey.”
Mike sighs, but leaves me alone with my demons.
Usually when I find myself face to face with a bottle of bourbon, it’s because the anger and desperation got to be too much. But the thought of my hockey career always kept me anchored. It kept me from making stupid mistakes, from risking losing the only thing that’s worth something in my life.
But now, even that is gone. Or pretty much gone.
I’m not allowed to play for the next two weeks. And that in itself wouldn’t be such a bad thing if Harry didn’t tell me he’s bringing in another player to try-out for my position. I’m not even going to be there to defend it. I can’t attend practice, I can’t work-out with the team…for two weeks I’m on the outs while the new guy gets settled.
I pour another drink, the image in the mirror blurring a bit in front of me. The usual stop sign flashes through my mind.
Enough.
Get up and go home.
But I hesitate. I can’t phone Melissa for a distraction, because she kicked me to the curb. I can’t even blame her. Why should she keep up her end of the bargain when I can’t do the same? The thought of going home alone, of facing Lindgren and his giant Minnesota smile keeps me planted on the barstool.
The alcohol is filtering through my system. Numbing the thoughts, the events of tonight blurring together into a string of incoherent thoughts. Harry’s disappointment, Melissa’s scowl, EJ’s anger…and Avah.
Avah’s tears.
Avah’s icy gaze arrowing through my chest.
The feel of her beneath my hands when I caught her. She was fragile and furious all at once.
I slide off the stool, thinking I’ve had enough. If my mind keeps focusing on the blonde who hates my guts, it’s a clear sign the bourbon has officially taken over. As a hockey player who keeps in condition, it doesn’t take a lot of liquor to bring me down.
Although, I’ve been building a tolerance.
Even in my pride I can see that what once was one beer every now and then, quickly turned into a giant monster that demanded to be fed every time.
I stumble off the chair, the floor moving beneath my feet. Suddenly, the loss of control is too strong. I grab toward the first thing I can find, which is unfortunately, the dress of a woman standing at the bar.
It tears, revealing too much of her. There’s a yell, a few gasps, Mike’s wide eyes.
I lift my hands in an attempt to apologize, but the words never come out. Instead a fist connects with my eye, and the darkness welcomes me like a friend.
10
