So what do I do? The only thing that makes sense to my liquor-filled mind.
I leap off the bed and run.
I can hear her scrambling to catch me, but she doesn’t stand a chance. Even drunk off my ass, she wouldn’t catch me.
I pass the dresser, snagging my cell off the top before I leap over our discarded clothes and slam the door to the bathroom, turning the lock right as her fists connect with the wood. She must be kicking as well as banging against the wood because the whole frame is vibrating with her fury.
“You stupid douchebag!”
I lose track of everything she screams through the door. Then I can hear her destroying the room. I can hear thuds of the furniture being overturned and glass shattering against the hardwood.
I grab the towel I used earlier off the floor, giving it a sniff before wrapping it around my waist. Shit. Okay, I probably deserved a little of that. I’ve been taking Chrissy—no, Clarissa—the bartender at Heavy’s, home for the last few months off and on. There was never a promise of a relationship. Hell, every time I’ve taken her home, I’ve been drunk off my ass. Maybe I should have explained a little better to her that all this would ever be is sex. I’m in no damn shape to give myself to anyone.
Especially not when the only woman I want is the one who acts like I’ve got the fucking plague whenever I touch her.
No, I want one woman, and until I can figure out what has her running scared every time I hint at something more than a friendship, I’m better off with my good friends Jack and Jim.
After a few seconds of silence, I take a chance and click the lock, cracking the door open slightly. Peeking around the opening and seeing the room completely trashed is enough of a distraction for the small fist to come flying out of nowhere and smashing right into my already sore eye.
“Son of a bitch!” I roar.
“You got that right, you sorry piece of shit. The next time you want to warm your dick up, why don’t you make an effort to actually remember the name of the body you’re using!”
She gives me a good shove, and before I can regain my feet, I fall flat on my ass.
And the only thing I can think is, How in the hell did I let my life become this?
Spying a full bottle of Jack, unbroken, in the chaos that used to be Maddox’s guest room, I pull myself off the floor and, without bothering to get dressed, fall back on the bed. Then I proceed to drink myself into oblivion.
CHAPTER 2
Chelcie
Crap.
How do I lose my keys twice in one week?
Ever since I moved into Dee’s old apartment, I swear I’ve been falling apart at the seams. It doesn’t help that everything is changing around me so rapidly that I can’t seem to hold on tight enough.
New town.
New friends.
New home.
And . . . the baby.
A fresh wave of loss washes through me when I think about the father my child will never know.
Shifting my weight, I drop my bags of groceries on the floor, switch my purse to the other arm, and start looking for my phone.
“Come on . . . Where is the damn thing?” I mutter to myself, checking each pocket before dropping down to kneel on the carpeted floor and dumping the contents of my purse out.
Are you kidding? Gone. My phone is just gone.
Careful to steady my balance, I drop lightly on the floor next to my door.
I want to cry—I really do—but I know it won’t change anything. It’s insane how quickly everything can change around you. It could be worse. I know that, but right now . . . Right now, it feels a hell of a lot like rock bottom.
I take a deep breath, resting my hand against my slightly rounded stomach, and blink back the tears that keep threatening to burst through my carefully built wall.
It’s only been a few months since I packed up everything I owned and moved to Georgia. It all started when my boss, and good friend, Dee was attacked, leaving me feeling so completely vulnerable and alone that I didn’t know what end was up. Seeing her coming so close to death just did something to me that I can’t explain. I’ve always been strong and independent, but seeing that . . . It just hit me.
I turned to the closest thing I could find to make me feel alive again—the one and only, Zeke Cooper. He was fun, hilarious, and best of all, a distraction to the mess around me. I’ve never been the type of girl who just hooks up with anyone. I crave stability and love to fall into a man’s bed. But I needed something that he was more than willing to give. I knew the score, and I was okay with it. He wasn’t the type of man a girl goes into anything with hoping that she’ll get the white picket fence and the cookie-cutter house. No, he was the type of man a girl goes to when she needs to escape the world around her.
All it took was one night.
And then . . . And then he was taken from everyone.