Forever Mine

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

JAY

I locked up the sandwich shop feeling bone tired. I didn’t really need to work here any more since Beck got me a job at the factory with him. But old habits die hard, and I hadn’t been able to quit it. This was the first job I got that was legal, and the bossman was always good to me. Plus, he always let me bring home the old bread and whatever else they were gonna have to toss anyway. I couldn’t even tell you how many weeks the three of us ate nothing but that.

I didn’t need to rely on the stale bread and aging deli meat anymore. Nowadays, I usually brought it to one of the shelters or the homeless communities around the city. Somewhere in my head, though, I liked having the security of knowing this job and the food was there if it all went to shit.

I was so up in my head that I didn’t notice the fucker creeping up on me until he was right fuckin’ next to me. My hand found the hilt of the blade I kept on me at all times but relaxed when I saw who it was.

“What the fuck, man? You scared the shit outta me.”

Billy Davison took a step back, looking a little lost. His pupils were dilated, and he was scratching his arm hard. Fuck, what was he on?

“Sorry, bro. I thought you heard me.”

I squeezed my lips together and waited for his point. I shoulda heard him. It was dangerous to be that lost in thought out here.

Realizing I wasn’t gonna say anything else, Billy started to talk. “You got any more of those painkillers? My ankle’s still bothering me.”

I sighed heavily. This fucker. “Told you already I don’t do that no more. And if I did, I still sure as shit wouldn’t sell to you. What the fuck are you on right now?”

Billy’s eyes flashed back and forth. “I just needed something to take off the edge since I couldn’t find you.”

I needed to get out of here. My little side hustle was just another thing I was having a hard time letting go of. But I wasn’t lying when I told Billy I wouldn’t give him any more even if I had it on me, which I didn’t.

Selling drugs was fucking wrong. Trust me, seeing my mom and Beck’s dad wither away taught me that. It was why I was so fuckin’ careful and had my own code, however morally gray people thought it was. I never sold any hard shit. Just prescription drugs, mostly Adderall and Xanax, with some pain killers on the side. I even had antibiotics, but I didn’t charge for that.

I never sold to kids, and never to anyone who looked like they were getting addicted. It was still wrong, but selling that shit kept me alive for years, so it was a hard habit to give up.

Besides the money, lots of people in this community counted on me for their shit. Most folks around here didn’t have insurance and couldn’t afford the doctor or their meds. They came to me when they needed help. It kept me afloat, and I felt pretty decent about it too.

But I’d stopped now, or at least mostly stopped. Dakota was a fuckin’ ICU nurse. If I ever got caught, they would sure as shit investigate him, and he could lose his job, even if he never was or never had been my source. Dakota loved his job and was good at it, so I wasn’t risking that. So I’d stopped dealing, and only kept a small amount of antibiotics and Xanax on hand, just in case.

I started walking to my truck, ignoring Billy. But he wouldn’t give up. The fucker grabbed my arm and tried to spin me around.

“C’mon bro, I just need one—” He didn’t get the full sentence out before I had him pushed against the dirty wall of the deli and had my knife against his throat.”

“Fuck, Jay. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I pushed the knife in a little harder, not enough to cut him, but enough to put a little fear of God in Billy.

“I told you, I ain’t sellin’ that shit anymore. And I sure as fuck ain’t selling it to you. You’re addicted, man. You need help.”

Billy snorted. “I’m not! My ankle!”

“You twisted it. It’s been almost a fuckin’ month. I probably shoulda never sold you the first one. Fuckin’ asshole.”

Billy finally started to try and get away, grabbing my arm, but he was so out of it, he couldn’t budge my arm at all.

Breathing through my nose, I stepped back. If I didn’t get away I’d do something I’d regret. I grinned at him, trying to get back to my usual jokey self. Fuck, I needed to get a grip.

I closed the knife and shoved it into my pocket. “Leave me alone, Billy. And get some help. I know some pretty good rehabs around here if you need to find one.”

Billy spit at me, but luckily for both of us, it landed on the ground.

“Fuck you!” I chuckled and turned away, giving him the finger as I stepped away from him and to my truck.

I slammed the door shut and locked it, even though Billy wasn’t following me. Thankfully the piece of shit rumbled to life.

I didn’t let myself think until I was outta the parking lot and away from fuckin’ Billy. That’s when all my emotions caught up with me. I pulled a fuckin’ knife on him. What was wrong with me?

He was a druggie, but he was harmless. That so wasn’t necessary. I needed to get it together.

“Fuck!” I slammed my hand on the steering wheel.

I started to head to Dakota’s but hesitated. I wanted to see him. Fucking badly. But I didn’t want to go to him like this. Kota already saw through me better than anyone else ever had, even with my mask on. What would he see now when I couldn’t hide myself?

It was why, even when I said I’d go to Kota’s, I didn’t drive there and instead, headed over to the bar where Beck was working.

Like me, he didn’t need that job anymore. Riley’s bio dad, Wes, was covering a good chunk of the rent for the new place we were moving into, plus the security deposit. In the meantime, they were staying at Wes’s place, and he refused to let them pay shit. Still, Beck couldn’t give it up. We were both way too used to getting disappointed to let go enough not to have a backup plan.

Beck was at the bar, pouring a drink at the tap. He looked up when the bell rang, letting him know someone was here, but he didn’t have that panicked dead gaze I had started getting used to. After the fuckin’ pedophile who tormented him as a child had shown back up, Beck was struggling. Ri and I were wrecks, wondering if Beck would survive it this time.

It all came to a head a couple months ago when Ri killed the fucker, and Wes managed to clean it up without anyone finding out the truth. It took a while for Beck to relax, but it was good to see it happen.

He started to smile when he saw me, but frowned real quick as I got closer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’s wrong, man. I can’t go see my best friend?”

Beckett rolled his eyes and grabbed a bottle of beer for me, opening and sliding it over.

“Don’t bullshit me. You look like shit. You and Dakota get into a fight?”

I took a long sip of my beer trying to think of something to say. “Nah, nothing like that. I just came back from the deli and wanted a beer. One of my old customers caught me unawares. Needed to take the edge off.” I shrugged like it was no big deal and I wasn’t in the middle of an internal crisis.

But Beckett had known me way too long and wasn’t falling for that. He narrowed his eyes at me. “What the fuck you mean, he took you unawares? Are you hurt?” There was a deadly note to his voice, that was usually only reserved for someone who fucked with Riley.

“Nah, I handled it. But the fucker turned to harder shit. You know how that always gets me.”

Beck nodded in understanding. Yeah, he knew. We’d both watched our folks wither away because of that nasty shit.

“Well, stay as long as you need. Beer’s on me, long as you don’t drive.”

I tilted the bottle at him in thanks before finishing it. I didn’t even put it down before Beck had another one out for me. He didn’t ask any more questions, just knew what I needed.

Two drinks turned to three and then four. Then some more. At some point, Beck stopped pouring me beer.

“Drink that.” Beck pushed a glass with something clear in it.

I took a sip and then spit it out on the bar. “The fuck is that? Tastes like nothin’.”

“It’s ’cause it’s water. Drink it, Jay.”

“Don’t need water,” I slurred. The bar was spinning, and the stool was getting harder to sit on. Was it uneven? Why was it wobbling so much?

“Yeah, ya do. Drink it, man. For me.”

He knew the magic words. “Fuck you.” But I still drank the fucking water.

Beck couldn’t babysit me for forever, though. He had a job he was doing. By the time he got back to me, I’d managed to sneak two more shots.

“Do you want me to call Dakota? Or Riley? Someone has to come pick up your ass.”

I shook my head. “Don’t bother them. They don’t need to deal with my shit. I’m such a fuckin’ fuck-up. Gonna end up just like my mama. May as well get started right.”

There was a glass filled with an amber-colored liquor on the bar next to me. Pretty sure it was for the guy sitting there, but I didn’t give a fuck. I picked it up and drank it.

“Shit.” Beck sounded really far away. “Sorry about that, Jim. Let me get ya another one. Next round is on the house.” The guy, Jim, mumbled something but he was really, really far away, and I was too floaty to give a fuck. Beck said something, maybe about me spouting a bunch of bullshit, but it was too hard to make out his words. My eyes drifted closed and I swayed on my stool.

“C’mon, Jay, let’s get out of here.” I blinked up at the face that was swimming in front of me. The pretty brown eyes, the almost ginger hair, all those fucking freckles I just wanted to lick with my tongue.

“Kota?” It was harder to say than I thought, and my words were slurred. How’d that happen? “Kota! How’d you get here?”

“I drove.” His lips were pressed in a thin line, a face he only made when he was annoyed.

“Are you pissed at me?”

He grunted. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Pretty sure that was a yes. “Beck?” I asked, looking around, but nearly fell off the barstool.

“He’s the one who called me. He’s cleaning up out back. Glad someone called me after you never showed up tonight and weren’t answering my calls.”

“Shit.” Dakota was definitely pissed. Not that I didn’t deserve it.

Dakota snorted. “Yeah. Shit.”

“Darlin’, I’m s—”

“Shh, I don’t want to hear it right now when you’re drunk like this. We’ll talk in the morning. Let’s just go.”

It was harder than it should be to stand up, and I needed to lean on Kota to walk straight.

“Beck’s gonna drop your truck back off at my place.”

“Okay.” Didn’t give much of a fuck about my truck right now. Way more worried about how stiff Kota was as he helped me to his Camry. Not the good kind of stiff, either. But the “he’s pissed as fuck and trying to rein it in” kind.

My stomach soured. “Maybe I should go home with Beck?” I didn’t want to, but Dakota wasn’t happy. I’d known the end of us was nearing, even if Dakota kept saying otherwise, and this bullshit probably brought him over the edge. I was a special kinda asshole for not even sending a text. He should leave me.

“I swear to fuck, Jay. Do not pull this bullshit right now. If this was some dumbass attempt to get me to push you away it’s not working. You’re coming back to my place, and I don’t want to hear another fucking word about it.” Kota shoved me into the passenger seat. Didn’t know if he pushed a little too hard, or if I was just that drunk, but I kinda fell into the car and just righted myself when he huffed his way to the driver’s seat, slamming the car door when he got in.

I couldn’t help it, I smiled. And if I wasn’t so drunk, my dick probably would’ve taken notice of Dakota’s tone. “I love it when you get all bossy with me,” I slurred-mumbled, happy to be sitting.

Kota rolled his eyes, but I saw the little tilt of his lips as he tried to fight a smile. That made me smile harder. I’d get him to stop being mad before he knew it.