“So do I. Sir.” Luke admitted as he gazed at the door. He drew a deep breath and the older man retreated quietly to his own apartment. Luke placed his hand over the doorknob as he leaned his forehead against the door. He gave himself a moment, trying to brace himself for what came next. God only knew what he was in store for.
He tested the doorknob to see if it was locked, luckily for him it wasn’t. He quietly pushed opened the door and stepped inside. The apartment was a disaster. Broken glass that had once been picture frames were shattered. The couch was covered with Jake’s clothes. There was a bottle of whiskey on the counter, and by the looks of it, Cara was three quarters deep into it.
He blew out a breath and bent down to begin to pick up the larger pieces of glass when she walked into the open space from the bedroom. Her hands full of more of Jake’s clothes. She stopped in her tracks when Luke stood up.
“What the hell are you doing here?” She slurred and gave him a nasty glare before dumping the clothes that were cascading out of her arms onto the overflowing couch. She was wearing one of Jake’s T-shirts and nothing else.
“Be happy I’m here, otherwise the neighbor across the hall would have the cops here.” He said evenly. “Jesus, Cara what the hell are you doing?”
“Look, I don’t need a babysitter. So if you could just leave, I’d appreciate it. And while you’re at it tell the old geezer across the hall to do me a favor and call the cops.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want? You want to be in a holding cell while we all say goodbye to Jake?”
Cara looked at him, but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She had nothing to say in response to his comment. He sensed her retreat and walked over to the bottle of whiskey.
“Are you using a glass or are we just chugging from the bottle?” He said as he lifted the bottle, eyeing the fiery liquid himself.
“Help yourself.” She said and turned away. She focused on the mess of clothes and busied her hands moving them around.
Luke took a swig of the bottle and cringed as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. He shook it off and took the bottle with him as he made his way towards her. He offered her a swig of the bottle and she eyed the bottle before meeting his gaze. By the look in her eyes, Luke was willing to bet she was pretty far gone. She took the bottle from him and threw her head back as she chugged the whiskey as if it was second nature. His eyes widened as she polished the bottle off, handing the empty bottle back to him.
He shook his head. “Cara you have to stop this.”
“Am I bothering you?” She asked. “I don’t remember calling you or even asking you for anything, so you’re going to explain to me why you keep telling me I have to stop this. I don’t have to stop anything. I don’t have anything anymore. Don’t you get that?”
“You’re not the only person who lost someone. My parents are burying their son tomorrow and instead of being by their side, I’m searching the whole fucking town looking for you. I have to explain to a seven year old what heaven is and that she’ll never see her uncle again. And you’re sitting here drinking yourself into oblivion and wrecking Jake’s apartment.” He growled. His patience was being tested and he didn’t like it. “I will drag you out of here kicking and screaming if I have to. But I will not leave you here so that I have to come back and check if you killed yourself yet.”
“I’m not suicidal Jake…” She rolled her eyes not catching her own mix up.
“Luke. I am Luke not Jake.” He said sternly. She turned around, her eyes bore into his, and they were full of confusion. Sensing she had no idea why he said that, he reminded her. “You just called me Jake.”
She fell backwards onto the heaping pile of clothes that was piling on top of the couch. “Well, I didn’t realize it. I was just thinking how I wish Jake was here and not you.” She glared at him through her glassy eyes.
“I wish Jake was here too Cara. I don’t know how the hell he ever put up with you.” Luke spat back. At first he had tried to be patient and to console her, forgetting his own grief or that he had a family that was falling apart. He made her his number one priority out of respect and his promise to his brother. Luke was at the end of his rope. His patience was teetering on the edge. He wanted to shake her and beg her to snap the fuck out of it.
She stood, her eyes blazing with fury. In one fluid motion she stood in front of him and swung at him. Her fist connected with the end of his jaw.
“Fuck you, Luke!” She said through gritted teeth.
Luke didn’t flinch. He didn’t even react to her violent outburst, figuring he probably deserved it. Instead, he took hold of her wrists roughly, holding them in place as she tried to break free of his hold.