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One fifty-seven in the morning.
Leah leaned over, sliding her hand along the top of her nightstand and cringing when she heard the clink and subsequent splash that meant she had just knocked over her glass of water.
“Shit,” she hissed, reaching to turn on the light. By the time she got it on and spotted her phone, it had already gone to voice mail.
She brought the phone to her face, squinting against the offensive light to see who had called.
One missed call from Da
Her hand flew to her mouth as she sat there, cursing herself for taking so long to get to the phone. Why was he calling her? And at two in the morning, no less. Should she call him back? Text him? Maybe he was leaving a voice mail?
As she sat there staring at the phone and contemplating her next move, it started ringing again. Her stomach flipped as she saw the words flashing on the screen.
Incoming call from Da
She tapped the screen before bringing it to her ear.
“Hello?” she said softly.
“Leah,” he said, sighing heavily into the phone. “God, I don’t even know what to say.”
She pulled her brow together as she sat up further, ru
“Da
“No. I want it to be okay, but I don’t know what to do anymore. And I’m sorry I kissed you, but I’m not sorry, you know? I just…I wish you knew. God, I wish you already knew, because I don’t wa
“Wish I knew what?” she asked. “Da
He sighed softly. “You have no idea how much I want to see you right now, but he took my keys, and this is bullshit because I’m fucking fine.”
Leah closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Because she realized then why his voice sounded so odd, why he’d called her at two in the morning.
He was completely wasted.
She sighed heavily before switching the phone to her other ear. “Who took your keys?”
“Joe.”
“Who’s Joe?”
“Bartender,” he said. “But I’m fine. He knows I’m fine! Goddamn it, I just want to go home.”
Behind his drunken slur, there was an unmistakable desperation in his voice.
Something was wrong.
Plus, hadn’t he just told her last weekend that he didn’t drink? And here he was, absolutely hammered.
“Where are Tommy and Jake?”
“Not here.”
Leah’s eyes widened. “They left you alone like this?”
“I just don’t know what to do anymore. About anything,” he said dejectedly, his words ru
“Where are you?” she asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
“Outside.”
She huffed heavily, rolling her eyes. “Outside where?”
He didn’t respond, but she could hear a rustling sound, like he was walking quickly.
“Da
“McGillicuddy’s.”
“Okay, where is that?”
“Valhalla,” he said, and the despondency was gone from his voice, leaving him sounding oddly detached.
Leah dropped her head back, blinking up at the ceiling before she sighed heavily. “Alright, you need to go inside, okay? I’m coming to get you, but I don’t want you to go anywhere else.” She slid off the bed and pulled a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt out of her drawer.
“Leah?”
“Yeah?” she said, stepping out of her pajama bottoms.
“I don’t deserve this. I just really need you to know that, okay?”
She froze with one leg in her yoga pants. What the hell was he talking about? His keys being taken? Her coming out to pick him up? Or something else entirely?
Either way, his words were dripping with misery again, and she quickly pulled her pants on as she held the phone with her shoulder.
“I’m leaving right now. Just go back in the bar, alright? Don’t go anywhere.”
“Yeah, alright,” he said distractedly before ending the call, and Leah tossed her phone on the bed as she pulled off her pajama top and threw on the sweatshirt. She combed through her hair with her fingers as she sat on the end of her bed, doing a Google Map search of McGillicuddy’s in Valhalla. The directions said the trip would take twenty minutes, but at this time of night, with no traffic, she could probably make there in ten.
Ignoring the little voice in her head that told her she was crazy for doing this, she scooped up her keys and purse and walked out of her bedroom.
If nothing else, Da
Besides, there was something in his voice, something in the fraught way he spoke that caused a knot in her stomach. He needed help, and he had called her. It didn’t matter what had happened between them last weekend. After all, what kind of a person would put her own ego before helping someone in need?
Leah made it to the bar in just under fifteen minutes, pulling up to the curb right out front. She didn’t really know the area and wasn’t thrilled about walking around alone this time of night, so she hoped getting him to leave would be quick and painless.
She exited the car and pulled her hands into her sleeves, wrapping her arms around herself as she approached the bar.
Behind the impressive oak door, McGillicuddy’s was nothing but a dive bar; a few random patrons sat scattered about rickety wooden tables, and Leah’s heart rate kicked up a notch as she sca
Just as she was about to take out her phone and try to call him, she spotted him at the far end of the bar by himself. His head was down, his elbows resting on the bar as he spun a half-empty drink in his hand, and Leah frowned.
Why would they have served him again? The bartender took his keys, but gave him another drink?
Leah walked briskly toward the back of the bar, glaring at the bartender as she passed. When Da
“Leah?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Da
He blinked at her, stu
Jesus, does he not even remember calling?
“Yes, I’m here. Come on. You’re going home,” she said, taking the drink from his hand and placing it on the bar. She realized a beat too late that perhaps it wasn’t the best idea; she had no idea what kind of drunk he was, whether he would get angry or belligerent if she took his drink away.
But instead he slunk out of the chair, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. She brought her hands up to his biceps to brace herself, and he buried his face in her hair as he inhaled deeply. “You’re here,” he said again, and this time it sounded like a prayer.
Leah stood frozen for a moment before she closed her eyes.
He’s drunk. He has no idea what he’s doing. He doesn’t even remember calling you. Just get him home.
“Okay, come on,” she said, using her hands on his biceps to push him away gently. He held her firmly for another second before he relented, releasing his hold on her and taking a step backward. Leah slid her hand down his arm before timidly wrapping her hand around his wrist to keep him next to her while she leaned over the bar.
“Excuse me?” she said, and the bartender looked up. “Can I have his keys?”
The bartender shook his head, his expression never changing as he went back to drying glasses and stacking them. “I don’t have his keys.”
“Okay, well is Joe still working?”
The bartender chuckled as he slung the rag over his shoulder. “Sweetheart, either you’ve had a little too much to drink, or you’re at the wrong bar. There’s no Joe that works here.”
Leah stared blankly at him before she turned to Da
He dropped his head, resting his forehead on her shoulder as he fisted the side of her sweatshirt. “The other bar,” he mumbled, and Leah closed her eyes, sighing heavily.