“Maybe I should’ve stayed, but I came back. It’s my right to do what works for me, though. Keep being pissed if you want, but I don’t regret it.” His eyes flare as he lobs the words at me.
A customer waves at me; I pour her a beer, trying to keep my frustration from boiling over, and shoot her a tight smile. Then I make my way back to Asher. “Of course you don’t regret it. You have the luxury of being able to just do whatever you want.”
“You can go to school too, you know,” he retorted. “You’re not dead.”
“There’s no way this business will make it without me.”
“God, you’re so fucking arrogant.” His voice is filled with shocked wonder. “You really think Jax and I are so stupid that we couldn’t handle things here ourselves? That we’d just drive Dad’s business into the ground without your saintly presence to keep us all alive?”
My lungs tighten at the accusation in the words. Because the truth is, that is how I feel. That neither of them could handle it. And given the fact that Jax is a complete fuckup and Asher just started growing facial hair recently—I’d say that my gut is pretty accurate on this one.
Without me saying a word, Asher can still read it on my face. “Fuck you,” he tells me quietly, then leaves.
A flood of emotions are surging through me—anger, guilt, frustration. My life isn’t what I wanted it to be, not at all. Not even close. I had my own dreams and aspirations. Then Dad died, leaving me with two teen brothers to raise and a failing bar to tend to.
My chest is tight as I serve customers. I can barely keep a restraint on my rampant feelings. They threaten to explode. I cannot lose my shit right now. I have to be the responsible one, the father figure. Asher might not like it, but I do have a point to how I’m feeling. He could have used the experience to help him after he graduates next year.
I pour a beer for myself and take a long draw of the refreshing liquid. Maybe alcohol will take the edge off. I rarely drink at work unless a customer buys me something, but I need it tonight.
The tension keeps ramping up in me, tightening my chest. God, why am I so fucking worked up right now? I know exactly why. It’s because I keep screwing shit up in my life. I try to make things right and I end up making people pissed. And I’m tired and need to feel good.
I want to feel Aubrey in my arms, to hold her close and feel her warmth—forget all of this nonsense. But that’s not going to happen and I need to put it out of my mind for at least a little while.
When I head back to the office, Jax follows me in there.
“Not now,” I tell him, a warning clear in my tone.
“Dude, you’re a fucking mess. You need to go. Take a night off. Pretend you remember how to just be a man and not a business owner.”
“I can’t take a night off,” I reply. I dig through the papers on the desk, looking for last night’s totals for comparison against tonight’s. It seems like a better crowd in here right now.
“As part owner, I insist. Get the fuck out of here. You’re stressing the customers.”
I stare hard at him.
Jax gives me a small smile and laughs. “Okay, not really. But you’re stressing me. Please. Just go. You can’t keep working at this pace, man. Take the night off and enjoy yourself. Have fun. Find a chick to bang. I promise we’ll be okay. We can always text you if there’s an issue.”
I have to admit, it’s tempting. I haven’t taken a night off in so long I can’t remember the last time.
Jax can see that his words are working on me. He goes for the death blow. “Dad would not want to see you killing yourself like this. You know it would hurt him.”
My breath exhales in a hard whoosh, and I run my fingers through my hair, over my beard. “Fuck.” All the fight leaves me at the mention of Dad. No, he wasn’t the best businessman, but he did the best he could for me and my brothers. Made sure we went out and did things together. Fishing, baseball games, skiing.
The familiar pain that I always feel when I think about Dad comes creeping back in, and my chest grows tight.
He comes over and pats my shoulder. “One night. It won’t be the end of the world. Stop being our dad and remember that you have a right to a life, too.”
“You have to text—no, call—if anything goes wrong.”
“We will.”
“And if someone starts a fight, make sure to break it up immediately so it doesn’t get worse.”
“Yeah, we know.”
“And keep an eye on the kegs—”
“Fucker, we know. Shut up, idiot, and get out of here.” Jax shoves my back. I growl at him, and he laughs. “Yeah, yeah, big guy. Don’t forget, I can take you.”
“One time, when you were like twelve.”
“Best day of my life.” He winks. “I was thinking of getting a trophy for it.”