Salty

Twelve | Whiskey to the Rescue

Twelve | Ollie

"I'm sorry," I stood from the desk, "but... what?"

Hallie's story left me speechless. Those four words were all I could manage. Of all the things I thought were about to spill from this woman's mouth, that was not it. She fell eerily silent, pressing her back into what little free wall space this room offered with a glossy gaze she refused to lift from the floor. I was glad she wouldn't look at me, because I didn't know how the hell I was supposed to react to that.

"It was a decision she made, and there was no talking her out of it. I would have never tried either. I think she knew she was going to get her heart broke but didn't realize just how bad."

I pressed my folded arms to the top of the metal filing cabinet, dropping my head down to take a breath I hadn't realized I had been neglecting. My chest was tight, taking in too much air and letting it out with a loud sigh. It all made sense now, and yet made little sense at all. One thing was certain, I fucked up when I accused Sloan of ill intentions.

"I've been fucking terrible to her."

"Yeah," Hallie said. "You have. The one thing she has left is that school. Her dream guy didn't work out. Her career needs to. I'm a mess myself and keeping us both above water," she paused, which caused me to look up. Her eyes held tears ready to release. "I can't do it much longer. Maybe it's selfish of me to think that way, but I'm exhausted. All the work I've done to get her this far, you tanked."

The whole situation made me sick. When the door of the office burst forward, I had never been so relieved to see Mikah.

"Are you going to work today?" Mikah peered at his watch. "Jason is getting his ass kicked in that kitchen with noon rush!"

Hallie and I shared a look, one that said we were both thinking of Sloan and nothing else. I understood why she was depressed, but how the hell was I supposed to do anything about the circumstances for it if Sloan didn't just tell me herself? But I understood exactly why she didn't tell me, probably better than anyone.

"What's with the silence?" Mikah asked. "Did you finally knock one up?"

"Suck a dick," Hallie countered, folding her arms across her chest.

I tried to withhold a smile when Mikah's brows lifted with her audacity. Speechless Mikah was my favorite Mikah, and I had half a mind to offer Hallie a job if she could put up with his shit. He needed to be put in his place more often. It would do him some good.

Hallie lifted her purse from the desk and tossed it over her shoulder. "She works at Thomas Jones' Consignment on the westside."

"What am I supposed to do?" I took a step forward. "She hates me, for good reason, and I'm not sure I can talk her into going back into the classroom after the way she left. It changes nothing. I can't give her special treatment."

"You got through to her once." Hallie shrugged. "I have faith you can do it again. And if you don't, I'm sticking with that plan of shoving your toothpick through your dick."

Mikah laughed, being the only one to find it funny. Hallie grabbed him by the shirt in a tight fist and yanked him further into the office so she could move past. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving just my brother and me standing in a cloud of disturbed dust.

"Where do you find these chicks?"

"Here." I groaned, dropping my head back to the filing cabinet. "Mulligan's Bar & Grill, the one and only. I need to walk away from this place and all the bullshit that comes with it."

"Yeah, I've heard you mention that before." Mikah said, bitterness etched into his deep voice. "Nothing like throwing the legacy down the shitter with the rest of your family."