Page 112 of Angels & Whiskey

“Damn straight. I’m tired of men fucking with my life.”

“That’a girl, let’s get you drunk.” She laughed.

As Brandi ordered our shots, I scanned the floor. I wasn’t looking for a new guy to be with long term, but I was definitely looking for someone who would take my mind off Gabe and whatever he was doing with that redhead.

I felt my cell phone vibrating in my pocket. I knew who it was, but I still didn’t want to deal with Gabe. I needed to be at least tipsy while Gabe told me what he was doing so I didn’t yell in his face.

“Here you go.” Brandi handed me the shot glass filled with amber liquor.

I turned and took the glass from her hand. “Here’s to it and to it again. If you ever get to it and can’t do it, I’ll strap you to it until you learn how to do it.” We clinked glasses and downed the fiery goodness.

She laughed. “What the hell was that?”

I giggled. “I don’t know, but it’s something my dad always says.”

We sat our empty shot glasses on the bar and then moved to a table that had opened up nearby. I watched as people danced, enjoying the live band, and having a good time. That’s what I should’ve been doing—having a good time and not thinking about Mr. Green Eyes. But I needed more liquid courage before I could dance with strangers.

“How are your parents taking everything?” Brandi asked.

I shrugged. “As good as they could be. I know this is bad to say, but I think my parents are relieved that Rich is dead. I know they liked him a lot, but after finding out what he did to me over the years, it’s a relief.”

“It’s totally a relief. We all liked Rich, but we all didn’t know the real Rich. Not even you.”

“I know,” I sighed. “Let’s not talk about the past.” I groaned. “I was really starting to like Gabe. I can’t believe he’s out with another woman.”

A waitress came over and we each ordered a shot of Fireball and a Jack and Coke.

“He hasn’t called you or anything?”

“He texted me saying some bullshit that it wasn’t what I think and to meet him at home.”

There was that word again.Home.In the short time I was living with Gabe, it had really started to feel like home. But now the word felt foreign on my tongue.

It had almost been a week since Rich died. I was still waiting to hear how. I was told he was poisoned, and we weren’t allowed to leave town because they had yet to determine how and by what. My house was no longer an active crime scene, but I still couldn’t bear being there at night by myself. Gabe had offered to stay with me—to make me feel safe, but even though it was my house, I still felt as if Gabe didn’t belong. I needed to sell the house and buy one of my own. It needed to be something new in my life—like a new beginning and I thought all along Gabe would be my new beginning.

“Maybe he has a good reason for being out with some chick?”

“Come on, B. Whatgoodreason could he possibly have? He told me he had somebusinessto take care of. That didn’t look like business to me.”

The waitress returned with our drinks.

“All I’m saying is that Gabe has been nothing but a good guy toward you. He hasn’t shown you once that he has anything to hide, right?”

I stop swirling my straw in my drink. “Except his job. Every time I ask him about his job, he changes the subject or we get interrupted. He hasn’t told me what he or Paul do for a living. Do you know what Paul does for a living … What are you doing here?” I asked, looking over as both Gabe and Paul walked to our table and stopped in front of us.

“I need to explain,” Gabe professed. “But not here. Please come backhomeand I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

“Don’t you see I’m out with my friend? Why don’t you return back toyourfriend? You two looked very co—”

“Stop. Please, angel,” he pleaded.

“Let’s all four go back to our place. Brandi needs to hear this too,” Paul interjected.

“I do?” Brandi asked.

“Yes,” Paul said.

“I agree. You both need to hear this,” Gabe said.