After the Rain

“Nothin’.”


Walking through Pete’s, I could see the looks of disapproval on people’s faces; some even looked slightly mortified. Maybe they thought of me as the town black widow, some wicked husband killer trying to get my claws into the next victim.

“I feel like everyone is staring at us.”

“So what,” Russell said, his tone purely indifferent.

“Whiskey, neat.” Out of the corner of my eye I thought I could see Russell scowl when I ordered my drink.

“The same,” he added.

“You got it,” the bartender said.

“So why did you get a divorce?”

“Didn’t get along. My ex is a bitch.”

“Oh.” We shared few words after that. Russell wasn’t much of a talker. After the third or fourth whiskey, I expected Redman or Bea to walk in, pull me off the bar stool, and drag me out by my hair, but they didn’t. I glanced at my phone and saw three missed calls from Nate. It was eleven o’clock and the whiskey was going straight to my brain.

“Will you call me Lena?” I asked him.

“Why would you want me to do that?” I was discovering the many differences between Russell and Jake. Before his accident, Jake was lighthearted, fun, and complimentary. Russell seemed miserable.

“I just want to hear what it sounds like when you say it.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want. I’ll call you Strawberry Shortcake as long as my dick’s in your mouth.”

I sucked in a short breath and felt bile rise in my throat.

His expression was unapologetic. “What, did I say something to shock you, Lena?” he said sarcastically. “I thought that was why you were here. You want me to smack you around a little while I’m fuckin’ you, right?”

“No,” I said, barely audible.

“That wasn’t so convincing.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “No, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Two more.” He motioned for the bartender to refill our glasses. The bartender, a tall gangly man with shaggy blond hair, eyed me. There was something rueful in his expression.

“You want another, sweetheart?”

Russell pounded his fist on the bar. “That’s what I said.”

“I’m just checkin’ with the lady, Russell.”

When the bartender turned to retrieve the whiskey, Russell snorted, “Lady. Ha!”

Once the whiskey was poured, I downed it, hoping to lessen the fear and the pain I was feeling. “You’re nothing like him.”

“Who, Jake? You mean Jake Pussy McCrea? Yeah, no, I’m nothin’ like him.”

“He’s not . . . he wasn’t.” I started stammering and slurring. My vision was getting hazy.

He turned to me. “You should stick to using that mouth for what it’s good for.”

“I have to go,” I said, my voice sounding small and far away.

“Go where? You got a ride?”

“I don’t know why you’re being so mean.”

“Listen, you got a sweet little ass. I’ll drive you back to my room and give you what you want.”

“You’re drunk.”

He smiled wide and I noticed that one of his teeth was black. The rest were yellow, likely from chewing tobacco. Nothing like Nate’s straight, white teeth.

I took a deep breath to steady myself and put my head in my hands, my elbows propped on the bar. What am I doing here?

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. “Ava?” I looked down at the floor and saw a pair of black Converse before looking up into Nate’s squinting eyes. He was looking past my irises to the heart of me. But his eyes weren’t searching, they were pleading. He looked concerned. “Come with me?”

“How’d you find me?” I mumbled.

He wore a slight smile. “I didn’t want to spend another minute away from you. I called Red and he told me where to look.”

I remained silent as I stared at Nate’s concerned expression.

“Ava, I told Red and Bea that I’d take you back to the ranch. Come with me . . . please.” He reached his hand out.

“She’s with me,” Russell chimed in unenthusiastically.

“I don’t think so,” Nate said.

Russell stood up in a combative gesture, chest puffed out in Nate’s direction. “I don’t want any trouble with you, man,” Nate said.

“Who is this guy?” Russell asked.

I looked up and shrugged. I kept my gaze on Nate but answered Russell. “I don’t know for sure, but he’s harmless.”

When I stood from the bar, Nate stepped toward me and took my hands in his. Looking down at our hands, he said, “Don’t go with him, Ava, please.” Russell grabbed me by the shoulder and yanked me back out of Nate’s grasp. “Easy, man,” Nate barked.