Page 34 of Crow
“No! Family members and staff are off fucking limits, Vegas, I mean it.” Archer’s face had gone so red it was almost purple. A vein pulsed at his temple. He took a deep breath then turned to the caterers. “I’m sorry for this moron. Please, continue installing those industrial fridges, he won’t be bothering you again.”
I looked around, waiting for a moment to escape. Archer was lecturing Vegas, pulling him toward one of the back rooms, Maverick was playing bus driver with Ripper, and everyone else was too busy herding nosy wedding goers away from things that were none of their fucking business. Tank especially was standing guard over his booth in the corner, scowling at anyone who came near while Wrench studied what looked like blueprints behind him. Seizing my moment, I managed to back out of the Tavern without anyone noticing and was on my bike and speeding off before anyone had a chance to call me back to help organize fucking floral centerpieces or something.
I was happy for Archer, I was, but it was all getting to be too fucking much. Everywhere I looked, there was something new sparking a memory of me and Jeannie’s wedding, which felt too soon and too long ago all at fucking once. If that wasn’t a goddamn headfuck, I don’t know what was. Worse, sometimes Jeannie’s face was replaced with Jade’s, and part of me still saw that as a betrayal.
That didn’t stop me from going into the grocery store on the way home to stock the fridge, trying to guess what Jade would like for dinner. I wasn’t the best cook, but I could probably scrape some shit together that was edible at the very least. I was always hearing about how much Samantha appreciated it when Wrench made her breakfast, and Archer never shut up about how good Rose’s cooking was. Even Tank and Evelyn; I would watch Evelyn take over for one of the waitresses to serve his food with a kiss on the cheek. I wanted something like that, the easy domesticity I used to have with Jeannie where we effortlessly moved around each other without even having to think about it.
Since talking to Jade about her, thinking about Jeannie had become easier. It still hurt, but it was more like the ache of an old gunshot wound than the raw pain of before. I could look past the loss to see happier memories, like picnics and casual evenings at home. I had even begun to hope that I would make new memories like that, with Jade.
Ugh. What was this woman doing to me? Thinking of domestic shit. I quickly grabbed a loaf of bread, lettuce, and some bacon. Everybody loves bacon. We could have sandwiches. Unless she was a vegetarian. Fuck, was Jade a fucking vegetarian? I hesitated, thinking back through all our conversations to see if she had ever brought it up, then picked up some eggs as well. Then a variety of microwave meals, just in case. I stood staring at them silently for a long time, trying to guess which ones Jade would like best. Then I noticed that the woman standing next to me in the aisle was giving me the side eye, a vise grip on her son. I quickly piled as many of the microwave meals as I could into my basket and glared at her as I stalked away. She took a step back as I passed by.
“That’s a lot of food,” the cheerful old woman at the checkout commented, scanning the items through. “Are you having a party?”
“Ah, um, no. Just… wasn’t sure,” I mumbled, not looking at her. She looked a little taken aback, then understanding passed across her face, and her smile was back in full force.
“Don’t you worry, hon,” she told me as she passed the bags over. “I’m sure whatever you end up pickin’ will go down a real treat.” She winked as she dropped my change into my palm, and I felt the tops of my ears flush pink.
I sped home, wanting to be there when Jade arrived. I sent her a text asking if she wanted takeout for dinner as I put the groceries away because despite the cashier’s kind words, I had begun to doubt all my choices in the five-minute drive between paying and getting home.
An hour passed without an answer. I reorganized the shelves in the bathroom to make room for any fruity floral shit she might be bringing with her.
Hour two rolled by and still no answer. I put a movie on to pass the time. Something with lots of explosions. It was fine, Jade probably just needed some extra time to get all her stuff together. Maybe she had someone she wanted to say goodbye to, or she had to hang around until people were asleep or busy enough not to notice her leaving.
At hour five, I began to pace. It was dark outside now. Worry had begun to seep into my bones. What if Jade had gotten high and was passed out somewhere, or worse, dying of an overdose all by herself? Maybe Ray had gotten her, I had seen the way she flinched if I moved too fast, the remains of bruises badly hidden beneath makeup. I clenched my hands into fists and almost punched a wall. If he had laid his hands on her, I’d fucking kill him.
Unless.
Unless she was with Ray, but it was because she wanted to be. Because she’d changed her mind, or this had been another Freeway “fuck you” to mess with the Rebels. My jaw clenched so hard I could feel my teeth grinding together. I paced quicker, the doubts filling my head. Jade wasn’t coming back. It had all been a lie, a trick. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten for hours. I went to the fridge and reached past all the groceries I’d bought to snag one of the beer bottles I’d pushed to the back. When I returned to the sitting room, Jeannie’s photo on the coffee table seemed to mock me, an image of everything I’d lost, and apparently would never have again.
The next time I looked at the time, it was nearing 1 AM. I had sunk deep into the couch cushions, letting the TV drone on in the background as I waited for a text that never came. I couldn’t remember when the first beer bottle had become the third. I was hoping that the TV would help keep my mind off what was happening, but some poor bastard was claiming to love someone he had met an hour ago and it was making me sick. I grabbed the remote off the couch next to me and turned it off, pushing myself to my feet. Any hope I’d had of her eventually turning up was gone. I was a fucking moron, and I should have known better. Jade was flaky at best and leading me on at worst, and I had enough fucking uncertainty in my life without continuing to let her fuck me around. After grabbing another beer from the fridge, I headed up the stairs.
I’d finished the beer before reaching my bedroom. I briefly considered going to get another before deciding that would just end up with me in a loop. I set the empty bottle and my phone on the bedside table before stripping down to my boxers and flopping on the bed. I stared up at the ceiling, tracing patterns in the paint job then huffed and rolled onto my side. This ended up being a mistake, because now I was just staring at my phone as it lay silently on my bedside table, like it was taunting me. I wanted to check it for messages, even though I knew there wouldn’t fucking be any. A couple of times I’d had the impulse to send her a text, ranging fromWhere the fuck are youtoI hope you’re okay. But I refused to be the kind of sucker who sent them and showed weakness for a woman who couldn’t give two shits about him. I knocked the phone to the floor and turned the lamp off, rolling over and praying that sleep came quickly.
After an hour of staring into the darkness, I gave up. I sat up, turning the light back on, and reached for my phone where it lay on the floor. I sat on the edge of my bed, thumb hovering over the screen, as I debated with myself. Finally, I sighed, shoulders slumping, and pressed call. Ripper picked up just as I was about to call it quits and end the call.
“The fuck do you want, man?” he murmured, voice thick and slurring. “It’s two in the fucking morning.”
For a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I didn’t know what to say. I could hear Ripper on the other end of the phone, asking if I was there.
“Feel like coming over?” I asked, my voice sounding like somebody else’s. “We could braid each other’s hair.”
There was a pause, then: “Jesus Christ. Of course, you wait until ass o’clock in the morning to decide you have feelings.” He sighed. “I’ll be there in ten. You better have a fucking beer ready.”
“Always do,” I muttered and hung up.
***
“So,” Ripper muttered, after taking a long drink and setting the bottle back on the kitchen table. I had shoved all the crap off of the table so we could talk in the kitchen after looking at the couch made me so angry I had punchedthe wall. Only the day before Jade and I had been curled together on that couch, and now I was seriously considering burning the fucking thing. My knuckles had already started to bruise, and Ripper was staring at the purpling skin as he asked, “How about this heart to heart you’ve been avoiding?”
“Where do I even start?” I asked.
“Try the beginning.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, taking a drink. “Okay. Fuck. Remember that stripper from Archer’s bachelor party?”
“The one perched in Ray’s lap when we raided the joint?”
“That’s the one.”
