The Beast of Napa

17 - Glass

He turned back to Catriona. She looked at him, eager; far too eager as if she wanted to say something more.

But he couldn't handle anything more at the moment.

"Just watch where you step," he said to her.

He walked past Rose and Mrs. Greene, not wanting to hear any more words from them or his own heartbeat.

---------------

He was drinking whiskey again.

The bottle was almost empty, and he wasn't sure he could get another reserve, but part of him was happy to get rid of the damn thing if it meant not being tempted by it any longer.

He wasn't an alcoholic. He wasn't a mean drunk either. He knew people that were – people in his own family – and had seen them unraveled into their worst selves. It was hard to avoid in his business.

Regardless, he knew more than anyone that alcohol didn't make people demons... it just made people stop fighting against the demons already lurking in their souls.

There were plenty of other things that did exactly the same thing. Alcohol was only one of many addictions. He had his own addictions that he was quite fond of, but alcohol had never made the list.

But as Rose, Patrick, and ... she... lived here, he felt the need for the whiskey more and more.

Not to drown the pain. But to remind him that the pain was not worth having.

"I've never seen you empty a bottle in the dark, Nathaniel."

Griffin didn't even look up to the doorway. "You're late."

Patrick's shadow passed by Griffin's feet, but Griffin remained slouched in his armchair, swirling his empty glass.

"Mrs. Greene filled me in on the events of the evening," Patrick said. "I tell you, Nate, if there's anything at all I can do –"

"Why did you do it?"

There was a breath of silence.

"Do what?" Patrick asked.

"Change her." Griffin tapped his glass against the arm of his chair. "You took a whimsical girl who sleeps under the stars and turned her into..."

He stopped, uncharacteristically finding himself at a loss for words.

"A successful, independent woman," Patrick finished. "Don't you want the girl to become her best self?"

"She can become anything she wishes," Griffin replied. "As long as she doesn't become like us."

There was another breath of air, Patrick's normal light-hearted tone darkening.

"She's not Samantha."

Griffin hissed. "Don't say her name."

"What are you going to do then?" Patrick said sternly, stepping in to meet Griffin at his chair. "Carry that name around with you like a knife in your side until you can best your own father?"

Griffin's eyes clouded, a mix of the alcohol and bitterness taking over.

"We can all see your hatred, Nate," Patrick continued. "Damn the Prohibition. You're the reason your business is falling apart."

Griffin jumped to his feet, his glass crashing on the floor as he took Patrick by the collar and jerked him forward.

"I'm more than capable of taking care of this business," Griffin growled. "I'm more than qualified –"