Page 6 of All I Have Left

GRAYSON

I have to admit, going to a bar my first night back in town seems like a stupid idea. Not only do I feel incredibly out of place, what the fuck am I going to say to her if I run into her?

Oh, hey, sorry for leaving and not calling. My bad.

No. Fuck no, I’m not going to say that.

This is just fucked up and I have no plan. A guy like me, I need a plan. I need structure, and I hate being put in situations where I don’t know what’s going to happen. I spent months not knowing what would happen from one second to another.

Yet here I am, putting myself in a position I don’t want to be in.

The Point is a local bar about a mile from our house.

The parking lot is bare when I arrive, but I notice about five cars parked around the back of the building.

Stepping out of my truck, gravel crunches beneath my boots as I drag my feet.

Burying my hands in the pockets of my jeans, I step from the parking lot and into the field behind the bar.

I spent my summers mowing this field growing up and snuck my first beer in this bar.

I wonder if Quinten still owns it and knowing him, he probably does.

Looks the same. Chipped red paint coats the barn wood siding that’s barely hanging on like the rest of this town.

You can definitely tell time has taken its toll here.

In the field, I easily spot Ethan by the stage.

Barely five foot nine, Ethan Brooks is exactly the kind of guy you’d picture being a musician.

Incredibly talented, he’s artistic, creative and loyal.

Much like Evie, and their mom, Ethan would do anything for anyone, including giving the shirt off his back if they needed.

And up until three years ago, he was one of my best friends.

Evie doesn’t know it, or maybe she does, but I told him two days before I left that I was leaving.

He begged me to give Evie more of a warning, but I knew what would happen if I told her. I wouldn’t have left.

I don’t say anything as I approach him and at first, I don’t think he realizes it’s me. Not until I clear my throat and say, “Need any help?”

His head snaps up and he smacks it on a drum riser.

Rubbing the spot on his temple, he squints in the sun.

“No, but—” His words die off, his smile instant.

“Holy fucking shit.” Dropping the cable in his other hand, he steps out of the sunlight and into the shadow of the stage I’m standing in. “Look what the goddamn cat dragged in.”

God, I missed this guy. I smile. “Definitely drug in for sure,” I tease, pulling at the shirt I’m wearing. He knows what I’m referring to.

Laughing, he draws me into a hug. “I see Frankie got a hold of you.”

“You know she did.”

He steps back and reaches for an open beer sitting on the counter. “Shit, it’s good to see you.” His eyes drag over my body. “You got solid, man.”

Solid? I quirk an eyebrow at him unintentionally.

I’d lost twenty pounds and only just started putting weight back on after my deployment.

I guess since he hasn’t seen me, I do look a lot different.

Longer hair, tattoos, and probably thirty pounds of muscle.

I hadn’t really thought about it much until now.

I was eighteen when I left. A boy. I probably do look different to everyone.

I think about what’s not visible. The scars, the emotional damage, the things I’ve seen in the Army. My heart starts racing and though I do not want to think about anything that happened over there, it happens when you least expect it.

I’m nudged from behind by someone and it catches me off guard. I twist around on my heel, my body tense and ready for everything. “Whoa, sorry ’bout that, sir.”

Sir?

The kid moves toward Ethan carrying what looks to be a tray of food. “You hungry?” he asks, reaching for his hamburger when the boy heads back toward the bar.

I hadn’t realized I was until now. He hands me a burger, and then a beer, and leans up against a speaker. “She know you’re back yet?”

I know exactly who he’s referring to. Her. Setting the burger down, I draw in a breath. Shrugging, I take another bite of food. “Not that I’m aware of.”

I think he notices the change in my demeanor, but he says nothing as he clears his throat.

For the next hour, I make myself useful helping Ethan tune the guitars and set up the sound equipment. It’s good to see all the guys again. I missed everyone so much, not as much as Evie, but I missed them.

Just before sunset, I have a chance to look toward the field behind the bar that’s scattered with people and filling up quickly. My anxiety soars, the weight of my actions sinking in.

The Point, it’s the only bar here in town, a local hangout for everyone—underage or not. Directly off the back of the bar is a stage that opens up to the building, and on the other side, a large open field.

We used to party here in high school before I left.

With our mutual love for music, it was always one of Evie’s favorite places to hang out on the weekends because of the concerts.

We thought we were hot shit back then. Ethan and I started a band when we were in high school, playing nearly every Friday night here.

It’s then, watching him adjusting the mics when I realize I’d forgotten what this was like.

The summer concerts, the smells of the fresh cut grass, the warm humid summer nights…

. Did I mention the bugs? One thing I did not miss.

Although it’s better than those fucking spiders in Iraq that looked like they could swallow a goddamn cat whole.

“Grayson?” After slapping a bird-sized mosquito off my arm, I turn to see who called my name and catch my already intoxicated sister as she lunges through the air at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

“Jesus, Frankie.” I place my hands on her hips and peel her off me. “How much have you had to drink since I left the house?” She reeks of tequila and limes. I begin to wonder if she took a bath in it or how in the hell she actually functioned enough to operate a manual transmission on the way here.

“Oh, uh.” Stumbling around trying to right her footing, she taps her index finger on her lips for a moment. “Hell, I don’t know.” She waves her hands around. “Can’t I just be happy that my little brother is finally home? Besides, I had to calm Evie down somehow.”

Panic and fear rush through me. “Did you tell her I was here?” My heart races, waiting for her to answer.

She smiles, shaking her head. “No, I was waiting until after the concert.”

Thank God. I’m not ready for that.

“C’mon.” Frankie rubs my arm. “Let’s get you a drink so you relax.”

Ha. Not likely.

Despite my protests to remain sober tonight, Frankie doesn’t take no for an answer. “You’re gonna need liquid courage just like she did. ”

“I shouldn’t be drinking,” I tell her, ignoring the bartender she keeps flagging over to the side stage. I want to beg Frankie for details about Evie. Anything. Even if it’s just a glimpse into her life now, but I don’t. Fear probably is holding me back.

Frankie plants her hand on her hip. “Grayson, come on. What’ll it be?”

I order a whiskey and Coke so she’ll shut up. I hand the waiter a twenty-dollar bill when he returns with the drink, my glare on my sister. “I forgot how annoying you were.”

“I didn’t,” the waiter adds, winking at Frankie. I think I know him, but I can’t tell you his name. I’ve never been good at remembering names with faces.

Ethan comes up behind us, his arms wrapped around Frankie’s shoulders. Placing a kiss on her temple, he presses his body against hers.

“Yuck. You’re sweating like crazy.”

He wipes his forehead on her arm. “It’s fuckin’ hot out here.”

I think she’s trying to turn around and smack him, but she stumbles on the uneven ground.

He stares at her with a smirk, holding her up. “Babe, how much have you had to drink?”

“Not that much.” Ethan and I exchange a look of “yeah right.” Frustrated, she wipes her hands down her jeans. “Okay, if you must know, I spilled some on my jeans!” She looks down at her legs. “They make my ass look good so I refused to change.”

Ethan shakes his head in disbelief. “The things women do for fashion,” he grumbles, and then nods toward me. “So… Grayson,” his voice fades as if he’s going to ask why I am home.

Slowly sipping my drink, I smile at him, hoping it might deter questions. “What’s up?”

Please do not ask me why I’m home. Or anything regarding Evie.

Let’s face it, there’s a mile-long list of topics off the plate tonight. Lucky for me, he doesn’t ask about either.

There’s a subtle shift in his expression when he and Frankie exchange a look. “Would you care to play tonight?” he asks, grinning as he motions tipping his head toward the stage behind him. “I know it’s probably been a while, but I just thought maybe you might want to for old time’s sake?”

Squeezing the back of my neck, I watch him and Frankie closely because not all of me is convinced that’s what he was going to ask.

I look down at the drink in my hand and then up.

There’s a distant thump of a bass coming from the stage.

My eyes are drawn there, where the sunset reflects off the lighting rigs.

It sparks rays of gold, pink, and purple into the air and if I squint, it’s blurry like my thoughts, never focusing on anything other than the one I’m avoiding.

Running my hand through my hair, I think about it for a minute.

Remember what I said about being unprepared and how much I dislike it?

Exactly my point. If I go up on stage, and she’s there too, I don’t know what will happen.

But this is Ethan and I kind of feel like it might piss him off if I say no.

I haven’t played in years, but I know I wouldn’t have a problem picking it up.

I’d played nearly every day since I was three, I could do it, right?

I sigh, conceding with a little bit of relief that he hasn’t told me to go to hell.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little rusty, but why not?

” I admit, shrugging. “Let me know when you want me to come out.”

What the fuck am I thinking?

I’m not.

“Will do.” Ethan walks away and disappears behind the drum risers and speakers lining the stage.

Frankie eyes me, slurping her drink. “You’re gonna play tonight?”

I shrug, again. “I guess so.”

“You do realize she’s going to be here too. She’s actually standing twenty feet from you.” I follow Frankie’s stare to the parking lot where I can faintly see a woman leaning up against a speaker, staring at a cell phone in her hand.

As soon as I notice her, I turn to stone.

I’m engulfed in both fear and anger rushing through me.

I don’t know why I experience either emotion, just that they seem to battle for center stage, and I’m left waiting to see which one will take over.

And the more I try to justify my thoughts, the more difficult it becomes to breathe.

She’s… breathtaking and so much more than what my memory of her created, and now she’s here, in the same vicinity as me, and I have no idea how to handle it.

The worst part? Whatever it is going on inside me, it’s out of my control, and it’s an awful feeling—to have absolutely no control over your own emotions.

I stand frozen. I’m scared to move, terrified to breathe.

I watch her, the roll of her shoulders and if I had to guess, there’s a sadness about her that hadn’t been there before.

She presses her lips tightly together for a moment and then tosses her cell phone on a nearby table as she shakes her head.

I look away because seeing that expression on her face cuts through my heart.

Folding my arms over my chest, I turn away toward Frankie. “I don’t know about this.”

“Don’t you dare do that.”

I tilt my head to look at her, chewing nervously on my bottom lip. “Do what?”

“Bitch out.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not bitching out. I’m just… fuck . She hasn’t seen me in three years, Frankie. Do you really think this is a good idea to have our first encounter in front of everyone?”

“It won’t be in front of everyone. Promise.

” I’m not convinced. She takes hold of my hand and drags me away.

My heart smashes against the walls in my chest, thumping wildly and begging for a normal beat.

I sneak one last look at Evie. She’s no longer standing where I can see her and I’m left with an emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

I blow out a breath and bring my hand to the back of my neck, squeezing tightly. Of everything that’s happened in the last few years, I’m the saddest about not telling that girl what she meant to me before I left.