Page 8 of All I Have Left

GRAYSON

A fter three Jack and Cokes, and two straight up, I’m feeling pretty fucking good. Finally relaxed, a buzz of excitement rushes through me. I make my way into the field scattered with hay, where hundreds line the lip of the stage.

Sooner than I want, Frankie finds me, her arms snaking around my waist when the band surfaces. “Did you walk up to her yet?”

I side-eye her. “What do you think?”

Her eyes squint in the corners a little. “Seeing how she’s taking the stage, probably not.”

“You’re just as annoying as I remember.”

“And you’re just as pretty.”

I chew on the corner of my lip for a moment, trying to hide my reaction. “Knock it off or I’m leaving.”

“No you won’t.” She side-eyes me this time. “Not with her here.”

“Stop talking to me.” Pushing her hands away from me, I glance around to see who I know.

I notice Kelly, my oldest sister weaving through the crowd.

She spots me as well, greeting me with a huge smile and a wave.

Kelly and me, we rarely get along. Let me rephrase that.

We never got along. Kelly, she’s different.

Okay, I’ll just say it. She’s a bitch. Beautiful and she knows it, which makes her one pretentious pain in the ass most of the time.

Regardless, she’s my sister and I love her.

My parents call her the female version of me.

I will not agree with that comparison at all.

It’s so rude of them. They’re basically calling me a bitch.

Kelly makes her way over to me, yanking Josh with her. That’s when I hear the opening notes of a Miranda Lambert song I’ve heard before.

I look up to the stage and my heart stops. Evie steps from the shadows and moves toward the microphone. Her focus is locked on something in the distance.

From here, she looks different. Older, more mature, yet, the same small-town innocent girl I remember.

My memory of her doesn’t do her justice.

I want to stop time right then and drown myself in every detail about her that I’d missed for so long, knowing, fucking believing, she’s the only one who got me through the last couple of years.

When I didn’t have the strength to get off my knees, it was this girl I stood for.

Motionless on stage, Evie bites down on her bottom lip, the shake of her hands visible even from where I’m at. My heartbeat rages in my ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Frankie glances over at me to see my reaction. Apparently pleased with her handiwork, she hugs me closer. “She’s going to be so excited to see you,” she whispers in my ear.

Yeah, right .

“Hey, dude.” Josh draws me into a hug, swinging me around like a rag doll.

Josh Kurtis is Kelly’s boyfriend. They’ve been dating since high school and I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t around.

They left after high school, went to college together in Arizona and graduated last year.

From what Frankie told me earlier, he got a good job with an engineering company and they bought a house together in Birmingham .

I don’t say anything but attempt to untangle myself from him and not throw up. Dizziness takes over and I find it hard to stand for a minute.

He smiles and picks me up again. It’s painful.

It hurts every part of my body to be touched, let alone picked up and hauled around, but I don’t make any outright notion to the pain I’m in.

Collapsed lungs, ruptured spleen, broken bones, all that shit heals with time but emotional damage, that’s not easy.

It creates a void in your acceptance to receive affection.

“Put him down.” Kelly slaps Josh’s shoulder, probably noticing how white I am. “It’s my turn to hug him.”

Fuck, really? What’s with everyone and wanting to maul me?

Kelly and I hug briefly, but it’s thankfully a quick reunion, small talk made with no questions asked.

Behind us, I hear whistles, most of them coming from a man standing in the corner next to the stage. Both Josh and I turn to see who it is. I recognize him from high school but can’t think of his name.

Sean… Scott… oh, who cares .

“Fucking jackass,” Josh mumbles, twisting around so his back is to him.

Kelly peers over Josh’s shoulder to see who he’s talking about, shaking her head in disgust. “That’s putting it lightly.”

The guy’s propped against the fence, a bottle hidden behind a paper bag and a cigarette dangling from his lips. What gets me is the predatory way he’s watching Evie. I’m furious that he’s looking at her like that. I know I have no claim over her, but still, she’s mine. She’s been always mine.

Just as I’m contemplating walking over to him, and maybe kicking the shit out of him for good measure, Evie begins to sing.

And fuck if I’m not completely captivated by her every move.

The way her eyes close and her delicate lips moving around the words.

The way her body sways to the music. The way her hair blows softly in the night air, all of it holds me there, as if I’d never left her .

I can sense her pain as she sings about wanting just the memory of a time when life made sense. Tears surface in her eyes, but I can’t tell if it’s from the stage lights or maybe sadness.

Is the sadness because of me?

You fucking know it’s because of you, dipshit. How can it not be?

How much have I hurt her? What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me now? Her sadness feels like something more though, something else entirely. Deeper.

When she finishes the song, I’m instantly yanked to the side by Frankie.

“Wait here,” she orders, patting my chest with her hand and then runs to tackle Evie before she gets down the steps.

I stay back. Nervous I suppose. It’s been so long I don’t even know what I’m going to say to her or if I can even speak.

Will words even come out if I try?

A rush of nerves works through me and I’m regretting the alcohol. I’m not in control of everything around me and it’s terrifying. With my heart hammering in my chest, I wipe my hands on the front of my jeans, breathing in and out slowly.

Don’t freak out. Just calm down.

“Jesus, Frankie, ease up!” Evie gasps as Frankie squeezes her tightly. She tries to push her off but Frankie clings to her even tighter.

“I’m soooo proud of you, Evieeeeee . You were amazing out there! I can’t believe how good you sounded! Did you see Gr—” Ethan cuts her off by elbowing her in the side.

At least someone is trying to keep the little shit in check. “You son of a bitch,” Frankie snaps at Ethan, who’s wiping a towel across his face. “That hurt.”

“See who?” Evie tugs on the hem of her dress, shifting uncomfortably. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe you made me wear this. I can see my ass cheeks.”

My eyes immediately drift lower. Sadly, she’s exaggerating. While it’s high, you can’t see her ass cheeks .

“Gra—” Ethan cuts her off again, slapping his hand to her ass. “You, fucker.”

“Josh and Kelly, they’re back,” Ethan clips, abruptly glaring at Frankie.

“Ethan, honey, babe, love chops, can I speak with you in private?” Frankie grabs him by the arm. He staggers back. “Now!”

Frankie pulls him by the arm about three feet closer to me. “You fucking elbow me again, asshole, and I’m going to fuck you up.” Frankie flicks her hand to Evie, who remains standing next to the stairs leading up to the stage. “She’s going to find out sooner or later. He’s standing right there—”

He doesn’t let her finish. “Let him find her on his own. He’s a grown man, Frankie. Let them be alone.”

I can’t take it any longer. I step forward out of the shadows. Frankie squeals when she notices and bolts toward me.

“Come on!” She tows me with her. “There she is.”

I’m exactly two feet from her now. So close that if I reached out, we’d be touching.

“Evie?” I whisper, hoping it causes a spark. She notices me but doesn’t smile. Stunned maybe? There’s no reaction at all. It hits me. Like a bullet to my chest. This girl, I don’t know her anymore and I’m not sure she even recognizes the man standing before her.

I’m not the boy who broke her heart by leaving without saying anything. I’m the man who’s going to beg for forgiveness.