Why the fuck did he always have to look so good?
A hand shot out and touched my arm. “I never let anyone down, sweetie. And if I did, then I guess I owe some apologies. I thought I was saving everyone.”
I didn’t expect that from him, considering the way our phone conversation went.
Then Duke leaned down and pressed his lips to my cheek. His scuff was like sandpaper. His lips were soft, just like I always remembered them to be.
And then he walked into my house.
Back into my life.
Back into my heart.
nine.
(duke)
What the fuck are you thinking?
I licked my lips and could taste Belle. Fuck, I never stopped tasting Belle, even after the years passed by. I wasn’t into the whole apologizing shit either. But if Jim was going to hurt himself, I wanted to be there to kick his ass before he did it.
Sometimes the demons won the fight, okay? That was just how it went. You came back from that other place but you never were allowed to leave it. That’s why I did what I did with my life. Keeping my freedom kept me a step ahead of those demons. Shit, it put me side by side with the reaper, but that was a risk I was willing to take.
The house was different from the last time I saw it. It was bigger, an addition put on. The idea made sense. Belle’s old man worshipped Jim. Fuck, I was jealous of Jim the way Big Jim looked at him. I wanted Big Jim to be my father. No shock that he built a ranch level addition for his injured son. Knowing Jim though, he fucking hated it. He hated any restriction. Being a hot head was what made me and Jim good friends for such a long time.
I turned the corner in the kitchen and looked toward the living room. Jim sat with the television off and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. I entered the room and walked to a chair and plopped down.
He looked at me, looked away, then looked again. “What the fuck?”
“Jim,” I said.
He held out the whiskey bottle and studied it. “What kind of whiskey is this? It makes ghosts come to life.”
I leaned forward and plucked the bottle from his hand. “I’m not a ghost, brother. I’m right here.”
“Brother,” Jim said and laughed. “You still think of yourself as that?”
“Cut the bullshit. What the fuck are you doing drinking this shit?”
“Tastes good,” Jim said. “Like the old days.”
“Sitting out behind the shed sipping Big Jim’s whiskey is different than this. You were choking on your puke, huh?”
“My sister fucking called you?”
“She might have.”
“You both can go fuck yourselves.”
Jim wrestled to get to his feet. That’s when I saw the prosthetic leg for the first time. His jean leg pulled up and I saw the skinny metal bar that used to be a functioning limb. It took my breath for a second as Jim stood there.
“Yeah?” he asked, obviously noticing I had been staring. “Look.”
He pulled his jeans up even more.
“Christ, man,” I said.
I couldn’t tell him I was sorry. That would only add to the tension. We didn’t want to hear that shit. We didn’t want to hear that it was going to be okay. That anyone was sorry.
“Again, Duke, go fuck yourself.”
Jim walked to the kitchen and kept going. He exited the back door and slammed it shut. I held up the whiskey bottle and shook it. There was still plenty left in it.
So I took a drink.
What the fuck was I really doing there?
**
I saw Belle standing in the hallway, arms crossed. There wasn’t much light on her, but I could see the stress in her eyes. I was a nightmare to her. I used to be her dream.
“How’d that go?” she asked.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, we’re just warming up.”
I took two steps toward the door when she called my name in a shaky voice. I looked back and she was closer to me.
“Thank you, Duke,” she said. “For coming up here tonight. I was terrified when I found him passed out. And throwing up. He has these pills… for pain… and I’m so afraid he’s going…”
“Easy, Belle,” I said. “I told you before, you’re too beautiful to cry.”
Christ, I needed to check myself.
Going back in time was not going to help anything.
I went to the back door and found Jim sitting on the back steps outside.
I sat down next to him and looked out to the dark yard. First thing I saw was a big ass tree on its side. I thought for a second it was cut down but then I saw the massive roots sticking up like a million skinny fingers.
“What’s with the tree?” I asked.
Jim scoffed. “Fucking thing fell in a storm. Belle wants me to cut it up. Firewood.”
“Yeah? What’s taking so long?”
Jim looked at me. He curled his lip. “Asshole.”
“What?” I asked. “If you don’t want to do it, call for help.”
“I don’t need any help,” Jim said. “Not for the fucking tree. And certainly not from you. Jesus Christ, Duke. Where the fuck did you come from?”
I bounced the whiskey bottle off his arm. “Have a drink with me, brother. For old times. Then I’ll talk.”
Jim threw the bottle back and smacked his lips after taking a very hefty drink.