chapter 15
SITUATION REPORT: ON the way to getting totally shit-faced.
Mitch snagged a barstool in the seediest dive he could find in Vegas. The floor was sticky with who knew what. The air held the vague odor of urine and vomit. No chance of anyone he knew locating him here. He’d turned his cell off after ignoring the third call from Alex.
Alex! He kept picturing her in that navy man’s arms, kissing him…
Goddammit! The one person he’d always believed he could trust. Who’d never lie to him or go behind his back.
Country music blared from a battered jukebox, and an old Haggard song was playing, something about turning off the memories.
If only he could.
But that’s what he’d come here for.
A hulking man behind the bar looked at him questioningly.
“A bottle of Jim Beam.”
Without batting an eye the bartender grabbed a bottle and a shot glass, opened the bottle, and set it on the bar in front of Mitch.
Mitch laid a fifty on the bar. “I’m going to need a bigger glass.” In his uniform, and wearing his Tag Heuer watch and diamond tiepin, he might not look like he fit in here. But this was exactly the kind of place he belonged. Only the truly down-and-out patronized this seedy joint. The ones who’d given up on life a long time ago and were just waiting to die. People like his mother.
Once the barkeep handed him a large tumbler, Mitch filled it and raised the glass in a silent toast to dear old mom. To Angi McCabe. Whoever you’re spreading your legs for tonight, I hope he pays you enough to score your next hit. Knocking back the bourbon in one gulp, he slammed the glass on the counter and poured himself another.
His mom. Last time he’d seen her, he’d just been promoted to First Lieutenant, and he’d been saving his money for a while. He used his leave before shipping out to Iraq to fly to Memphis, making sure to wear his service dress uniform with his ribbons.
He took her out to dinner and offered to pay for a rehab facility close to where he’d be stationed when he got back. She’d seemed so happy to see him. So eager to get clean and sober.
He’d told her he’d bought her a ticket to Vegas, and gave her some money for food—she looked so thin. She’d promised to go. He’d made plans to pick her up at her trailer the next morning.
But when he got there, the first thing he saw was a brand-new case of whiskey on the floor under the table. His blood ran cold and he called for his ma, but she didn’t answer. So, he stumbled back to the bedroom and she was lying there, stinking drunk with some lowlife passed out beside her.
Disgusted, Mitch strode back to the table, grabbed up the case of whiskey and tried to take it outside. But the man must have been more awake than he looked. He’d caught up to Mitch at the door and hit him across the back with a two-by-four.
His mom was screaming, not telling the old guy to stop hitting Mitch, no. She was screaming at Mitch, begging him to leave them alone.
He hadn’t let himself think about his mom in a long time. But tonight he couldn’t seem to stop the memories.
The bourbon roiled in his gut.
That’s what he needed. A woman. He looked around the bar. The only female in here was on her knees under the back booth earning her booze in a time-honored tradition. Okay, he hadn’t sunk that low. He’d never paid for it. And he never ever would.
Refilling the tumbler, he went to work draining the bottle of Jim Beam. He eyed the bartender, wondering if he should trust him with his keys to the Jeep and to call him a cab. He couldn’t guarantee he’d be this sensible later. The drunker he got, the cockier he might get about being able to drive.
Mitch pulled his wallet out and slid a fifty and his keys over to the burly, bald dude serving drinks. “Can I trust you to keep these locked up and call me a cab when closing time comes?”
The bartender’s gaze darted from the money and keys up to Mitch. He could’ve sworn he saw a spark of respect in the guy’s eyes before he nodded and snatched them off the bar.
Hey, say anything you want about Mitch McCabe. He may be a drunk and a whore’s son, but he wasn’t no drunk driver.
He poured himself more bourbon and drank it down until the bottle was empty and he had to ask for a new one. But his lips wouldn’t form the words. His vision got blurry and the room started swaying, so he laid his head down on the bar for a few minutes. When he lifted his head he knew he had to be totally plastered because he was having a hallucination.
He saw Alex come in the door and scan the place until her gaze landed on him. Then she headed straight for him.
Uh-oh. She looked mad. He laughed. Wouldn’t it piss her off if he said she looked beautiful when she was mad? Wait. Had he already said that to her one time? He couldn’t remember. Didn’t matter. Even with her hair looking like she’d run her hands through it a hundred times, this hallucination Alex was gorgeous.
As she came up alongside him and leaned on the bar, her expression changed from mad to sad. Good. He was the one who should be mad. He’d tell her, too. Except he couldn’t remember what he was mad about.
“Oh, Mitch.” She cupped his face in her hands and searched his eyes.
“Hello, Alexandria. I’m very mad at you.”
“I know, but you didn’t see what you thought you saw.”
“I didn’t?” Thinking about that sentence made his head hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut. What did he not see? He was so confused.
“No, you idiot.” Her hands slid down to his shoulders. “Neil only came to—”
“That was it!” He tried to snap his fingers but they wouldn’t snap. “I was mad at Alex for kissing Neil-the-SEAL.”
“It’s not what you think. He’s shipping out next week.”
“Off to earn another medal, I bet. No wonder Alex kissed him. She deserves a guy like that.” He looked up at the hallucination.
“I don’t want him. I want you, Mitch.”
Of course his hallucination would say that. But the real Alex would choose Neil-the-SEAL. Seeing the guy in person only brought home how perfect he was. Tall, dark and handsome. And Alex had her arms wrapped around him, looking at him like he’d just brought about world peace and ended world hunger all at once.
“Nah. She doesn’t want me. Why should she? My mother’s a whore and so am I.” He glanced at Hallucination Alex. “I know that’s what she really thinks. She doesn’t like me anymore, that’s why she went away to D.C. in the first place. She used to think I was a great guy.” He stared down into his drink. “But not anymore. I’m just a good lay.”
He wiped a hand over his mouth. “I bet Mr. Perfect Neil-the-SEAL sent her cards and flowers all the time. And he’d never go three days without calling her.”
“Oh, Mitch.” Her hands came back up to his face and she leaned in to give him a soft kiss.
“I like it when you kiss me, Alex.” He smiled. Then he frowned. “The real Alex is kissing Neil-the-SEAL.”
“I am not.”
He closed his eyes and placed his forehead against hers. “Want something to drink?”
“Mitch, I want you to come home with me now, okay?”
He shook his head but that made the room really start spinning. “Not driving. Calling a cab.”
“Well, that’s good, but I can drive you. Come on.” She took his arm and it felt so real.
He laughed again. “Silly girl. Hallucinations can’t drive.”
“Mitch, I’m not a hallucination. I’m really here. But you can’t stay here like this. How do think you’re going to get to the ceremony tomorrow if you’re passed-out drunk?”
“Ceremony?” A vague recollection of something special going on tomorrow tickled his brain. “What ceremony? I’m not getting married, am I? No way! I’ll never get married again. Luanne cheated. Alex cheated.” He looked at hallucination Alex. “Why’d you cheat on me, Alex?” He curled his hands into fists and stuck his fists on the counter. “I wanted to kill that SOB. Kissing my girl. She was mine.”
“Mitch, get your ass up.” She lifted his arm around her shoulders and hauled him off the stool. “We’re leaving.”
He stood. Maybe he could hallucinate one more night with Alex.
“That’s it. Can you walk?”
Of course he could walk. Whoa, good thing she was holding on to him. She was strong, holding him up with her shoulder tucked under his arm.
Hey, when did it get dark out? Had he been here that long? What was it he was supposed to do tomorrow?
“There we go.” He felt himself sliding down into a bucket seat. “Now let’s get your seat belt on.” Alex’s voice sounded so nice. But she was mad at him, wasn’t she? No. Wait. He was mad at her. And he’d tell her so as soon as the entire world stopped spinning.
As she got in and drove the car out of the parking lot, he leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.
When he woke up the car had stopped and Hallucination Alex helped him get out of the car and walk to her door. Wait. He didn’t want to be here. “No.” He stopped. “Doan wanna be here.” He yanked his arm from her grasp and turned back toward the car.
“Wait. Mitch. Where are you going?” She caught his arm and tugged him back. Damn, she was strong. “Come on. Come to bed with me.”
How could he resist her? He thought he nodded, but he wasn’t sure if maybe that was just the ground moving. “Okay.”
Somehow he made it back to her bedroom and fell on the bed. But the room kept spinning. Then she was tugging on him, pulling off his shoes and socks and pants. Tugging his arms out of his coat and loosening his tie, and unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands caressed his chest and it felt so good. He grinned.
“Mmm, baby, come here.” He reached for her and yanked her down on top of him. Yeah, he liked sleeping with her in his arms. He remembered that. He remembered this feeling. The feeling of rightness.
He was forgetting something, but he’d think about that later. Right now, he’d snuggle with Alex…
ALEX LAY AWAKE a long time holding Mitch. She couldn’t believe she’d found him. Well, the cops had found him for her.
She must have driven around every hotel casino parking garage on the strip looking for his Jeep. She’d finally called Jackson and asked him to ask his friends on the force to be on the lookout for the Jeep.
The last time she’d seen Mitch this drunk was the night he’d come to her after he caught Luanne cheating on him. He’d only been married six months. He’d been so devastated, so hurt. But he’d called her, Alex. Needing her to listen, to comfort, and to assure him he would survive the pain.
She’d seen the softer side of Mitch that night. And she’d fallen even more in love with him.
But this time he hadn’t had her to come to. He’d had to go to a place like that.
Mitch rolled to his back and gasped in pain. He grabbed his head, then spotted her and groaned. “So you were real.”
Alex rose up onto an elbow. “You want some coffee? Or are you going to be sick?”
He sat up slowly and swung his legs off the bed. “Going home.”
“Mitch, we need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” He stood, gingerly walked to the chest of drawers and opened the drawer she’d given him for his clothes.
“You’re not in any condition to drive. And even if you were, your Jeep is still at that bar.”
He stopped in the middle of pulling up some jeans. “Then I’ll call a cab.”
“Mitch, Neil was—”
“You really don’t want to say his name to me right now,” he snarled as he zipped his jeans. He glanced back at her. “You know what my problem is? I gotta quit coming home early.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Or maybe it’s thinking I even have a home.”
“Mitch, I was only telling him that I couldn’t be with him.”
“Yeah.” He yanked a T-shirt over his head. “I could tell from that kiss.”
“That was a ‘Goodbye, have a nice life’ kiss.”
“You know what?” He swiveled to face her. “Why should I care? We were just f*ck-buddies, right?”
A sharp pain stabbed her as if a saber had just pierced her chest. If he’d meant to hurt her, he’d succeeded splendidly.
She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. “I love you, you moron.”
“Yeah, well, baby, I don’t do love.” He slid his sneakers on. “Love is for suckers. I told you that.”
She scrambled off the bed and blocked his way out of the bedroom. “I don’t believe you.”
“I tried the white picket fence, and the two-point-five-kids route. I was all in. Thought I’d live happily ever after. And what did it get me? A cheating wife and court-ordered spousal support for a year. That’s what love gets you, Hughes.” He was bitter, sneering.
No matter how many times she’d imagined Mitch saying exactly that when she told him she loved him, it still felt like a physical blow to the chest. She’d known this would be the result. His thinking she was a cheater like Luanne only accelerated the inevitable outcome. She’d lost her best friend. The one person she counted on to make her feel better when life got hard.
Now who would she turn to?
“Goodbye, Hughes.” He grabbed his cell phone off the bedside table, stepped around her and called a cab.
Eyes stinging, Alex raced out to the backyard, around the pool to the far edge of her property and sank down against the fence. She couldn’t be in that house while Mitch gathered all his things and left in a cab. She pulled her knees up, lowered her head, but her eyes remained dry. She refused to cry over Mitch.
In a few hours she’d have to attend a ceremony in her formal dress uniform, step forward and receive her promotion to major next to the man who used to be her best buddy but now hated her. No way she’d get back to sleep. But she was pretty sure the stuff she’d bought during her makeover included some sort of eye cream. At least she wouldn’t have to stand in front of everyone with puffy red eyes.
And that mundane kind of thinking and performing those kinds of everyday tasks was the only thing that got her through the next twelve hours.
Night Maneuvers
Jillian Burns's books
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