Faster We Burn

chapter Eleven

Stryker

I got back to my apartment and it was just as I’d left it. Cold and quiet. I turned on some music, but it turned out to be the playlist I’d come to think of as “Katie songs” so I switched it out for something harsher.

I tore through my cupboards and found the bottle of whiskey Allan had stashed for his own personal use. There was still plenty left so I grabbed a shot glass and downed one. It wasn’t the cheap stuff, either. Allan was a total alcohol snob, especially when it came to whiskey.

I paced the apartment, searching for something to get me out of my own head. I picked up each and every one of my instruments, but I couldn’t play them. I downed another shot.

It was way too cold and dark to work on my car. I poured another shot, but didn’t drink it. I put my chin on the counter and squinted at the clear brown liquid. It used to solve all my problems. At least until I woke up with a raging hangover and realized my problems were still right where I left them when I started drinking.

Back and forth I pushed the shot glass across the counter. Pulling out the pearl earring from my pocket, I set it next to the glass.

I should call her and tell her I had it. I should call her and apologize for bailing and for saying “f*ck” in her parents’ house.

Cage the Elephant’s “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” came on and I tapped my hand on the counter with the beat of the song.

Before I could second guess myself, I took out my phone and downed the third shot.

“Hey, you,” she said, the sweetness dripping from her voice. “What are you up to?” I heard voices in the background and soft music, so she was probably out somewhere. Big surprise.

I tossed the shot glass up in the air and caught it. “Nothing, just hanging out at home. You want to come over?”

“I’d love to. Be there in ten.”

She hung up and I set my phone down, got a second shot glass from my cupboard and filled it up, pouring another one for myself. If I didn’t want to end up in the hospital, I was going to have to pace myself. Trish wasn’t here to save my sorry ass this time.

I put the earring back in my pocket and waited.

There was a knock at my door less than seven minutes later. I got up and answered it. She was dressed in a miniskirt with fishnets and a ripped tank top, as per usual.

She put one hand up and leaned in the doorway seductively. Yep, I was drunk. “Hey, Stryk.”

“Hey, Ric.”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek that lingered. Her breath already smelled like alcohol, and I could tell she’d just put out a cigarette. God, I hadn’t smoked in a long time.

“Ooohh, are we taking shots?” she said, seeing the drinks on the counter.

“Yeah, I just need a smoke first. Come with me?”

She smiled slow and stepped toward me, walking her fingers up and down my shirt.

“Absolutely.”

That was what Katie had said when I’d asked her if she wanted to f*ck me the first time. The word hit me in the chest. I paused for a second, and Ric put her arm around me.

“Something wrong, babe?”

I looked down at her face, and picked it apart. Her eyes were too close together, her smile was too wide, her cheekbones too sharp. She was also too tall.

She wasn’t Katie.

I shut my eyes for a second and then opened them.

“Nope.”



Katie



The ‘little chat’ with Mom turned into one of our yelling matches, as it always did. Kayla and Dad tried to stop it, but there was only so much they could do before we were both screaming at each other. Like a hurricane, they knew they just had to sit back, board up the doors and windows and wait for it to be over.

“Say it, just come out and say it. You judged him the moment he walked in. You made up some image of what he would look like in your head and when he didn’t match that you freaked out, proving you are just as judgmental as I knew you were.”

We were standing in the spotless kitchen now, having already taken the fight around the rest of the house. Dad and Kayla watched from the safety of the dining room table, ready to come in and referee if things got really bad.

“That isn’t fair, Katie. You gave me no warning. What was I supposed to think?”

I threw up my hands. “You weren’t supposed to think anything! You were supposed to wait and see what kind of guy he is.”

She smashed her hands down on the counter with a slap. “How was I supposed to do that? You didn’t tell me anything about him.”

“Would you have let him come if you knew?”

She started to protest, but it was a second too late.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. God, Mom.” I stalked toward the living room. I couldn’t fight with her anymore. “Congratulations, you win. He’s gone and I’m going, too.” More often than not, our fights only ended when one of us stormed out.

“Katiebug, don’t leave like this,” Dad said. “Don’t leave angry.”

“I’m sorry I brought him here and ruined Thanksgiving. I’m sorry that I ruin everything. It seems to be my thing.” I ran to my room so I wouldn’t break down in front of them. I slipped on the photographs that were still all over the floor and landed hard on my side.

“Shit!” I rolled over on my back, massaging my hip.

“You’re being a brat, you know,” Kayla said, pushing my door open.

“Yes, I am, but that’s what I do. I’m the screw-up little sister.” Kayla crouched down next to me where I still lay on the floor. I turned onto my back and glanced at her, wiping tears away.

“That’s not true and you know it. Mom and Dad worship the ground you walk on. I used to hate you,” she said, lying on her back next to me.

What in the what was she talking about? “Are you serious? You’re their golden child.”

Kayla laughed as if that were genuinely funny.

“It’s all about perspective.”

“Whatever,” I said. She was nuts.

Kayla picked up one of the pictures and it happened to be of Zack and me at a party. He had his arm around me, a bottle of beer just out of view. He was looking at the camera and I was looking at him.

“I never understood what you saw in this douchebag.” She studied the picture for another moment, then ripped it in half. Before I could say anything, she picked up another picture of Zack and me and ripped that too.

“Here,” she said, handing me another one, where Zack was giving me a sloppy kiss and not even trying to hide his beer bottle anymore.

I stared at my giggling face for a second and then tore it apart and threw it back on my floor. Kayla found another one, and then another, and another. We got up and played a twisted version of ‘Where’s Waldo’, trying to find any picture that had Zack in it. There were quite a few.

When we’d ripped up all of those, I started on the other pictures. Kayla sat back and let me go at those ones. She pulled the trash can over and we piled the torn pictures of my former self up and then dumped them in.

When the floor was bare and the trash can was full, I stopped and sat back, bracing myself against the wall.

“Thought you were leaving,” Kayla said.

“I was. I am. I just wish he would call me. Trish said he hates apologies and that I need to let him cool off, but I just want him to contact me in some way.”

She came to sit next to me against the wall. “You’ll work it out. I swear.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“Comes from being the older sister. So, are you going to stay or go?”

I shook my head. “I have to go. I can’t stay here with Mom.”

“She’ll come around.”

Not likely. “I wish I had your confidence about that too.”



***



It was nearly ten when I pulled up in front of Stryker’s apartment. He wasn’t alone. There was another car there, but I didn’t know whose it was.

I tried calling him one more time before I knocked, but he didn’t answer, so I knocked and waited.

No answer.

The lights were on upstairs, so he must be home. I stepped back and saw someone peek through the curtains, but they were gone before I could see who it was.

I banged on the door again and footsteps pounded down the stairs.

“Katie,” Stryker said as he yanked the door open. No, he didn’t just say it. He breathed it. In those two syllables I heard hope and shock and even a little anger.

“Who is it?” A female voice said from his open door at the top of the stairs. I heard her start walking and when she came into view I had to swallow hard.

Ric.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were home with your happy little family,” she said, coming to stand behind Stryker and putting her hand on his shoulder. Marking what she thought was her territory. It only took me a second to assess the situation and know that Stryker had done this on purpose. Not that I was that cocky, but I knew he thought this would piss me off, which was the exact reason I wasn’t. Nice try, Stryker Grant, but I don’t play that game.

Stryker smoothed his expression and spoke in the hard voice he’d used when he stormed out of my house earlier. His douchebag voice.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“Yeah, and I thought I told you it wasn’t just the sex, so we’re even.”

Ric’s eyes narrowed when I mentioned the sex. They both smelled heavily of alcohol, but they were both fully-clothed. Well, Stryker was. Ric looked like she’d just come from clubbing.

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this anymore, Katie.” If he clenched his jaw any tighter, he was going to damage some of his teeth.

“I didn’t come here for that. I came to say I’m sorry. I know you hate apologies, so I hope you like grand gestures instead.” Without another word, I went to my car and grabbed two grocery bags. My trunk was full, so it was going to take a few trips to bring everything in.

In my head this had gone different, mostly because I expected him to be home alone. I’d written out this whole script on my way up, and he’d decided not to follow it.

“I’m making you dinner,” I said when I came back holding the bags. “So let me in because I need to preheat the oven if we’re going to eat before the sun comes up.”

Stryker stared at me as if he couldn’t figure me out.

“You’re not pissed that Ric is here and I’m drunk and we might have messed around?” Ric smirked at me from over his shoulder.

“Not really. You gonna let me in or not?”

He moved aside and I pushed past him and Ric and marched up the stairs. I heard her saying something to him, but I couldn’t make it out. I set the bags down on the kitchen floor and started unpacking them.

Finding a turkey on Thanksgiving was something I deserved a medal for. I had to go to three grocery stores and finally found a fresh one in an organic market. It was tiny, but it would do for my purposes, and it didn’t need to be thawed.

I plunked it on the counter and pulled out a bag of potatoes.

“You’re cooking me an apology turkey?” Stryker said, waiting in the doorway, as if he was nervous to come in his own apartment.

I slammed down a can of cranberry sauce. “Yup.”

“This is so weird,” Ric muttered.

“You can stay if you want,” I said, giving her a dripping sweet smile. “The more the merrier.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass,” Ric said, edging down the stairs. “You, um, have a good time.”

“Are you sure?” I said, pulling out an acorn squash. “Well, see you at Band.” I smiled as wide as I could and slammed the squash down, making her jump. She gave Stryker a look and scurried away.

“Aw, shame she couldn’t stay,” I said, pulling out some rolls. “I wasn’t sure if you liked this kind or this kind.” I pulled out another bag. “So I got both.”

“Katie, what are you doing?” He finally came all the way inside.

“I’m making up for the shitty reception you got at my house. You wanted a perfect Thanksgiving, so I’m giving you a perfect f*cking Thanksgiving. Now, could you be a gentleman and go get the rest of the bags from the car? Please and thank you.”