***
Nick
"I'll be right back, ladies." Ben waved to the twins he left behind as they kept dancing seductively among the crowd, walking over to sit next to me at the bar. Ben slumped down in the stool next to me. "I think I'm in love."
"Yeah, with which one?"
"Joanna, the one on the left- no, right. Fuck, I think they switched sides. I need to mark her with a sharpie or something." I laughed and turned to the bartender.
"Two whiskeys, please." The bartender poured the glasses and passed them on as the heavy music was turned down, the sound of the spotlight humming as it was turned on over the center ring signaling the fight was about to start.
The crowd roared as they announced one of the fighters; a skinny, but fast kid whose name I didn't quite make out or remember climbing through the ropes. When the announcer called out the second name, my jaw twitched. "...Jacob Hatcher!"
I took a sip from the glass in my hand as people cheered for him as he walked confidently into the ring. I scanned the crowd, wondering for a second if she came along.
"You know," Ben said through a chuckle as he nodded to the ring, snapping my wandering gaze back towards him. "I overheard a couple of Jacob's friends buggin' him the other day about you sleeping with Sam when he was still trying to get her to go on a date with him."
I tasted something sour when I heard that. "I already told you, that's not true. It wasn't like that with Sam..."
Ben scrunched his brows together and tilted his head. "Sounds to me like you caught feelings." I rolled my eyes.
"Just finish your drink, alright? I'm out of here." I downed the whiskey and placed the glass on the counter along with some money.
"Hey, what do you mean out of here?" Ben's eyes widened with betrayal. "There's twins."
"You shouldn't keep them waiting, then."
"Oh, I'm sorry. You must not have heard me. I said there's twins. Hot twins." Ben said, looking at me like I had a screw loose, as he nodded his head to where the two girls were, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. "I can't handle the two of them. I need help telling them apart."
"I'm sure you'll be fine." I shrugged on my jacket and made my way out as the first round started.
The heavy metal door creaked as it shut behind me, swallowing every noise from inside. I walked out into the dark, quiet alley, the brisk night air biting at my face. I slid my hands into my pockets, my ears ringing as they adjusted to the sudden silence.
I didn't feel like staying out tonight. I was getting tired of the same old things I'd always done. I used to enjoy it more before, never thinking twice before a one night stand or new party, but it somehow felt so much... emptier now.
I kicked at a pebble on the dimly lit sidewalk as I walked back home, grimacing as I recalled the look on Alex's face the other night when I brought another girl home. He couldn't stand me, I knew that well enough. But every day that passed, his disdain for me only seemed to grow more.
I knew no matter what I said, what I did, he'd made his mind up about me. And maybe he was right. Maybe they all were.
The sound of my phone ringing cut through my train of thought. I took it out from my pocket and saw it was James. "Hey."
"Nick. I've tried calling you like five times."
"What's up?" I rarely got signal down there, so calls almost never came through. I kept walking, the ground crunching underneath me with each step.
"Nick... it's about your dad." He said. My jaw clenched. "My old man called me; you know, they knew each other from back in the day." I remembered. They were drinking buddies from way back. James and his parents had a falling out, but they still kept in touch sometimes.
"What about him?"
"Nick... your dad... he's- he's dead." I stopped in my tracks. My heart skipped a beat. "Nick?"
The only sound from the quiet street was the wind hissing at my face. "Good."
"Nick, I-" I hung up the phone, and placed it back in my pocket slowly.
I wasn't sure why the first memory that came to mind then was of my mother so many years ago. One cold autumn night as she tucked me in, my body trembling from fear and pain after he'd beat me with his belt, she prayed at my bedside, hands clasped together tightly. When I asked why, she answered through a sad smile, "If you pray really, really hard for something, someday your prayers will come true."
So that's what I did. I would pray each night that he wouldn't wake up the next morning.
I didn't know if it made me a bad person, but that's what I prayed for: for my father to die.
Then me and my mother could be free. I prayed and prayed, but the next day would come, and then the next, and he would be alive, and I would go to bed with fresh bruises.
I stopped praying after a while. I shuddered as I remembered that feeling as I came to the realization; no matter what, I would never escape him.
But now... now he was dead. He was gone.
I should feel happy, relieved. But I just stood there in silence for what felt like a long time, and all I felt was numb.
***
I'd wanted to go home, but as each minute passed, the knot in my stomach grew larger. I stumbled into a nearby bar on the way back, the words James had said starting to fully register in my mind.
The surge of memories washed over me, each drink I downed only making it worse. I buried my face in my hands, unable to escape the spiral of hopelessness and fear that threatened to consume me.
He's dead. I told myself, trying to push aside his face, seared into my memories. The bastard's gone. You're free.
I could feel the anger burn up inside me, making my hands tremble. I thought I'd be relieved when he died. I thought it would be like some twisted way of getting closure, like him finally getting what he deserved. But it felt so... pointless.
And it left me feeling empty. Everything he put us through, I'd thought, would be buried into the ground along with him.
At least when he was alive, I had someone to hate, someone to blame and direct my anger at.
Now, he was just gone, but the marks he made on my life would stay forever. And that's what I hated the most about his death.
He didn't take everything else with him.
***
I lost count of the glasses I'd had after a couple hours. My mind was spiraling, and no amount of alcohol was enough to make the silhouette of his haunting features disappear every time I closed my eyes.
It was supposed to end when he left. It was my only, final hope. Instead, I found myself feeling more bitter and livid than before.
My hand was trembling, my vision blurry as I brought the glass to my mouth and drank. I placed the glass back down on the counter roughly, my other hand rubbing at my temple.
He never repented, never realized what he'd done. He never cared. He took my childhood, everything from me, and then one day, he was just gone. And for what? What was the fucking point?
"Nick." A surprised voice called out from beside me. I turned to the sound. Jacob stood there, elbows on the counter, an amused expression on his face as he took me in. "Good to see you again. Come for another round of drinks after the fight tonight?" I couldn't deal with this tonight. I turned back around to take another drink. "Hey, you didn't stick around for my win. Hurt my feelings a little bit." A feigned frown spread onto his face as he titlted his head.
My knuckles turned white around the glass, my head pounding through my skull. I could tell from the way he swayed and spoke that Jacob was drunk, too, and he was baiting me.
"Silent treatment, huh? Don't tell me you're still mad about what happened with Emma all those years ago." He taunted. "Oh, or is it about Sam this time? It must feel pretty shitty huh? Having the girl you want choose someone else. Twice."
That was it. I couldn't contain my bitter laugh, my blood boiling. "I never wanted Sam. I just couldn't help myself when I saw you'd fallen for her; following her around like a lovesick puppy all the time. It was just too much fun messing around with her while I watched you beg for a date for weeks. But now, be my guest, she's all yours." I spat out, feeling evil as the words rolled off my slurred tongue, my mind barely registering what I'd said afterwards.
And the look on Jacob's face as I said it was exactly the reaction I wanted. His face fell into a scowl, I smirked and stood up to leave, barely able to stand from the alcohol coursing through my body. "Congrats on the win, by the way." I threw a couple bucks onto the counter, my head spinning. "His drink's on me." I told the bartender, turned and walked away.
——————
Thank you for reading!
Let me know your thoughts on this chapter!! What did you think about Nick's reaction? And his encounter with Jacob?
Please vote and comment for more! I love hearing your theories and thoughts on where the story will go! Agai, thank you all for always being so supportive and patient! New updates soon!