Read Holding On To Love Online
Authors: A.E. Neal
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I shouted as I turned the corner away from Allyson's house.
My Fat Boy roared to life as I pushed the throttle as far as it would allow me. I wove in and out of traffic; the late afternoon sun beating down on me like an inferno. I raced through town, only catching glimpses of blurred cars as I passed them by.
"FUCK!" I shouted again as I turned onto Main.
I spotted the familiar brick building on my right. I let off the gas and turned down the narrow alley behind the building. The motorcycle's engine quieted as I rolled to a stop next to the metal door. I propped the bike onto its stand and swung my leg over. Once on two legs, I ran my hands through my hair, pulling on it and then cursing. "Fuck! God damn it! No. No. No. It can't be her. Please, fucking tell me that wasn't her!"
I kicked a coffee can against the wall, spraying the ground with sand and cigarette butts.
I pulled the heavy door open, the smell of stale beer and tobacco burned my nostrils. It was a familiar smell that I'd come to love. It made me feel at home, somewhere my life didn't matter and I could just lose myself in a bottle of whiskey...alone.
"Fuck, Brody. You look like absolute shite," Finn said, his accent more prominent that usual.
I groaned as I walked with my head down through the hallway towards the bar. Finn followed.
"I need a drink," I mumbled.
"Alright, boss. Have seat. I'll get it for you," he said with concern in his voice.
Since the pub wasn't open yet, the only occupants of the bar were myself, Finn and Amy, who was wiping down a table next to the stage. I found a stool at the edge of the bar and slunk down onto it, propping my feet onto the metal brace between the legs.
Finn slid a low ball glass filled with my favorite amber liquor in front of me and waited for me to speak. Only I couldn't. I was having a hard enough time trying to figure out what the fuck just happened at Ally's place.
I took the glass in my hands, poured the entire contents down my throat and swallowed. I slid the empty back towards Finn.
"Might as well just bring me the whole fucking bottle, man," I said.
"I think it'd be hell of a lot better if you just tell me what the fuck is going on."
"Give me another, Finn or I'll fucking get it myself," I snapped.
"Easy, B—" He said and pulled the bottle off the shelf behind him and poured until the glass was full. "Here."
"That's better," I said and downed the drink. It should have burned on it's way down, but I was so numb, I wouldn't have even known. I could feel the alcohol taking it's affect and I felt my shoulders relax a bit.
Finn turned to fill the glass once more, but I caught him by the hand. "You remember a few years back when I was playing away games in Colorado?"
He looked confused. "Uh...No, sorry. Why?"
"I played a series of games there a while back. They've got two teams we play and we just so happened to play them back to back. Anyway..." I paused. "Fuck. Pour me another one," I said, pushing the glass forward.
This was gonna be harder than I thought. I closed my eyes and pictured the night of the accident. I replayed it over and over. I wanted to tell myself it wasn't my little fox. But deep down, I knew I was wrong.
Finn filled the glass and slid it back in front of me. "Go on," he said.
"One night, a few of us were headed back to the hotel. It was snowing like a motherfucker and I was driving. About a block from the hotel, this truck comes out of no where and plows into another one at the stop light. There wasn't anyone else around, so I told the guys to go check out the truck while I checked the car. The fucking thing was about bent in half around the front bumper of the truck that hit it. I couldn't reach the driver, but he looked fucking dead to me. But there was a girl in the passenger seat slumped over the airbag moaning, so I knew she was alive," I paused to take another drink.
"There was fucking glass and shit all over her. She was covered in blood and I knew I needed to wait for the paramedics before I could get her out, but thing is, I couldn't fucking wait. So, I just reached in and pulled her out. I told her she was gonna be okay. Poor girl looked like hell."
Finn stood with his mouth agape. "Holy shit, man. That's some fucked up shit. Did she make it?"
I downed the last of the drink and set the glass back on the bar. "Yeah. She fucking made it. The dude who was driving died though."
"Sorry, man. That's some serious shit. How'd you find out she was alive?"
This time there was no need for me to motion to Finn that I needed a refill. The glass of whiskey was already in front of me and I took it to my lips. I took a gulp and swallowed hard.
"Here's where it gets fucked up, Finn," I paused for a moment, "she just told me."
His eyes went wide and his jaw fell open. "Fuck."
"Yeah. 'Fuck' is right. The girl in that fucking car was Allyson."
"Allyson?" He asked.
"Yeah, you know, Ally. The bassist's sister. The hot, spunky blonde that ran out of here last night."
He nodded. "Oh fuck. That Ally?"
"Yeah, that one."
"Shit, B. I don't know what to say. Does she know it was you?"
"No. I left before I could tell her," I hung my head between my hands.
"Wait. Where were you? I thought you had practice today?"
"I did," I mumbled, "we got done early so I went to grab some food and there she was."
I summarized my eventful afternoon for Finn not bothering to mention how fucking beautiful my little fox looked in her cut-offs with her hair pulled back. How I wished she let me take her pain away that moment. Her tears gutted me and I couldn't help but blame myself for her shattered heart. She had already stripped my soul, listened to my hardships, but seeing her broken like that just about killed me.
Jesus, Brody get your shit together. She's just another chick. Just a chick you wanted to bag, remember? Damn it! Someone needs to tell that to my fucking heart!
This time I knew I needed to stay far away. She didn't need my baggage and I definitely didn't need hers.
"That's the end of it, Finn. I'm staying far away from that one. She's got enough bullshit in her life, she doesn't need me to make shit worse," I said, almost forcing the words from my mouth.
He shook his head and laughed. "Right. I know you better than you know yourself, man. And you like this girl. A lot. I've never seen you so fucked up over some broad you barely know."
"I know. Don't remind me. But I'm serious, Finn. I can't fucking touch her. She's already pretty fucked up without me around," I said.
"I'll hold you to that, B. But I don't wanna be around when she comes strolling into the bar with another guy's hands all over her. I'm warning you, just this once. You lose your shit and I'll knock you the fuck out. Understood?" He said as he leaned onto the bar and looked me in the eyes.
Yeah, Finn was as serious as a heart attack. I knew he'd make good on his word if I fucked up.
"Yeah, loud and clear, buddy," I agreed.
I finished my drink and stood up to stretch. In need of something or someone to distract me from Ally, I took my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through the list of names until I found the one I was looking for.
Hey sweetness u free 2nite?
I typed and stared at the screen for a moment before I hit send. Not even a second later my phone buzzed in my hand.
For u B, always <3
"I can't believe I just told him all that, Ken," I said as I took a swig from one of Zac's beers. "And he just up and left. God, what the hell is wrong with me?"
"Nothing, Al. He doesn't do 'feelings', remember? Probably couldn't take the heat so he had to get out of the kitchen."
"Nice analogy," I said shrugging. "Why couldn't I keep the verbal diarrhea to myself?"
"He opened up. So, you opened up. It's completely normal. But yeah, maybe take it easy on the oh-by-the-way-my-fiancé-died conversation. That's like fifth date material," she said.
I laughed. She was right, once again. I needed to get my head on straight and focus on getting the interview done without anymore distractions, especially from Brody.
I spent the remainder of the night in my room typing up my final questions for the players. I Google searched Brody more times than I could shake a stick at, but closed the page each time a new list popped up. I finally gave up, telling myself that it was better this way and closed my laptop.
I padded into the living room and found Zac sprawled out on the couch asleep. Kennedy must have gone to bed too because all the lights were turned off and the front door was already locked. I glanced at the cable box under the TV, 11:42. Shit, it was getting late.
I wandered down to the hall closet and found a light blanket on the top shelf. I covered my brother, who didn't move a muscle and lowered the volume on the TV before going back to my room.
I desperately needed a goodnight's sleep. I pulled out a clean pair of cotton shorts and my favorite well-worn college tee; brushed my teeth, changed clothes and slid in between the cool sheets. As soon as I laid back, my eyelids grew heavy and next thing I knew, I was out like a light.
BUZZ...BUZZ...BUZZ
"Huh?" I asked sleepily as I rubbed my eyes.
BUZZ...BUZZ...BUZZ
I reached over and turned off my alarm clock, noticing it had been going off for at least twenty minutes. It was only 8:35, but for once I actually felt like I'd slept for an entire night; completely nightmare free. I yawned and got out of bed. I made my way into the kitchen, peering around the corner to find Zac still asleep on the couch.
Breakfast sounded delightful. My stomach growled as I pulled the eggs, bacon and cheese from the refrigerator drawer. I grabbed a frying pan and turned the stove on. Once it was hot, I lowered the strips of bacon carefully into the pan. The bacon sizzled happily as it cooked and the noxious smell filled the kitchen. My mouth watered. I filled the coffee maker with water, coffee grounds and clicked the switch on. Immediately, the kitchen was filled with the smell of fresh coffee and bacon.
I cracked the eggs into a bowl and whipped them until they were completely mixed. I pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge and set it on the counter. I flipped the bacon once more to finish cooking and laid the crispy strips of deliciousness onto a paper towel.
I wiped the pan of excess grease and poured the egg mixture down into it. While the eggs cooked, I poured a cup of juice and grabbed the latest issue of the Sun Times off the counter. I turned to the sports section and found an article titled, 'LOCAL HOCKEY TEAM'S WIVES & GIRLFRIENDS HOST BENEFIT TO RAISE MONEY FOR CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL'.
The article praised the women for raising $50,000 during a benefit held the previous Saturday night at the Grand Fern Hotel in Scottsdale. A picture of an older woman, who I'd guessed was in her late forties, held up a large cardboard check made out to the Children's Hospital. I scanned the rest of the article which continued on another page. I flipped to page B10 and half way down, I saw him. Brody. Dressed in a black tuxedo with a petite young girl latched onto his arm, probably in her early twenties, wearing a red halter dress that dipped so low, I was sure I could see her navel. The couple smiled for the camera, but I sensed some discomfort in Brody's eyes. Almost as if he felt forced to be photographed with the girl. I rolled my eyes. Probably just another one of his trampy whores, I thought.
The photo's caption caught my attention.
Brennan "Brody" McCabe (left) and Seraphine Fern (right) pictured here; The heiress and hockey player were caught smooching earlier in the evening while enjoying a stroll through the lush Grand Fern Gardens.
Holy shit! That's why she looked so familiar. She's the Grand Fern Hotel heiress.
I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I tossed the newspaper aside and checked on the eggs. They began to bubble, so I stirred, and stirred...and stirred.
"Mornin' sis," Zac said as he slapped me on the back, causing me to jump out of my skin and tossing the egg soaked wooden spoon in the air. "Jeez. Little jumpy aren't we?"
I picked the spoon up off the floor and wiped the uncooked egg from the edge of the counter. "No. I was just thinking. You shouldn't creep up on people like that, what if I had a knife in my hand?" I scolded. "You scared the shit out of me, jerk," I said swatting him with the back of the spoon.
He laughed and pulled a coffee mug from the cabinet. "So, why you so jumpy? Someone not get enough beauty rest?"
"Drop it. I'm fine," I warned.
"Sheesh. Someone's on the rag," he joked as swiped a piece of bacon from the plate.
"You're walking a fine line here, brother. Keep it up and you can find another place to stay." I shot back.
"God, Al. Don't be so sensitive. I was only messin' with you. Lighten up," he said with a mouth full of bacon.
I smacked his arm when he tried to snag another piece. "Get out! It's not ready yet."
He filled his mug with coffee and retreated to the living room.
Thank God.
I covered the eggs with cheese and put the lid over the pan. I grabbed my juice and went into the living room.
Zac held his coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. He looked completely engulfed in whatever it was he was doing.
"Sorry for being snippy with you. Breakfast is almost ready. What're you doing?" I asked.
He smiled. "Playing a new game. Candy-something, I think. It's totally addicting. I'm already on level 86."
I sat next to him and peered over to see the screen.
"See, you take the matching ones and switch them so you have like three or four in a row. If you get five of the same kind you get this spotted candy, that's the best one." He explained, sounding like a kid who was visiting an arcade for the first time.
I shook my head and leaned back against the couch cushion. "You're such a dork."
"Shut up. This game is fucking awesome," He countered.
"I'll just take your word for it," I laughed.
I turned the TV on and thumbed through the list of shows. News, sports, news, cartoons, and more news. I settled for news, since it seemed to be the only thing worth watching. A yellow ticker scrolled across the bottom of the screen, 'Severe thunderstorm warning for the following cities,' it said and a list of the affected areas followed. It looked like the storm would most likely miss us, considering the last two had completely blown over.
I tired of the news quickly, wondering why they always had to report the depressing shit. Weren't there any happy stories left in this world? Frustrated, I clicked the TV off and headed back into the kitchen. I lifted the lid on the pan full of cheesy scrambled eggs and my mouth watered.
I took three plates from the cupboard and set them on the counter. I had anticipated the smell of bacon would wake Kennedy, but she was still fast asleep. I scooped some eggs onto my plate and grabbed a couple slices of bacon. I refilled my juice and took my plate to the breakfast table in the corner of the kitchen.
I peered around the wall to let Zac know breakfast was ready, but like a hound, he was already making his way to the kitchen with his nose in the air.
"Damn, sis. This looks awesome. Way to 'Martha' that shit up," he said as he took three heaping spoonfuls of scrambled egg and piled it onto his plate.
"There's hot sauce in the fridge if you want," I said.
"Cool. Thanks," he said and swung the fridge door open.
"Inside the door," I instructed, since I didn't want him to stand with the door open for hours like a blind man searching for a needle in a haystack.
"Got it," he said and closed the door.
He carried his plate, hot sauce and coffee mug to the table and sat down beside me.
With a mouthful of eggs, he said, "Oh my god this is good. Damn, I was starving."
I wanted to reassure him that making breakfast for my housemates wasn't the norm and he should be grateful I woke up so early.
"I don't make breakfast very often, so don't get used to it," I said and his lips curled into a frown. "Don't give me that look. You can make your own food. I've seen you."
"Yeah, but the shit I make doesn't even come close to this. I think you've found your calling."
"Are you buttering me up?" I asked.
He laughed. "Nope. I just haven't had anything like this since mom was around. I miss it."
I nodded. "Me too."
I cleared my plate and put it into the dishwasher. Zac continued to shovel his food into his mouth as he held his phone in his free hand.
"Mornin' fam," Kennedy said yawning.
"Morning Ken," I said. "There's coffee. And I made breakfast whenever you're hungry."
"Thanks, Al. You shouldn't have. It smells delicious though and I'm starved," she said.
"See, sis. Everyone thinks you should cook breakfast everyday."
Kennedy smacked his arm, "I didn't say that, jerk. I'm just surprised she did all this. Usually, I'm scarfing Pop-Tarts for breakfast."
"Well, you're welcome," I said. "Gonna go get in the shower." I waved and followed the hallway to my room.