The memory flashed away as fast as it had come, leaving Liv shakier than she would have liked.
“We should probably get out of here.” Ryan looked around the area, her stance strong and protective.
Liv wanted so badly to reach out and hug her, but she held herself back. Later, she told herself. They could talk about it later.
“Let’s go.” Liv led the way to the car, the flashlight held loosely in her hand and her mind caught in a spiral of ten years ago.
Liv had dropped Ryan off at her car in absolute silence and then headed straight to the bar. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and she knew her Gram needed her, but at that point she needed a beer. Or something stronger.
She knocked back a Jell-O shot, completely aware that she had passed beer a while ago. “Can I get some water?”
The bartender, a tall, handsome man, nodded and went and got her a large glass. She would have to stay a while to make sure the alcohol metabolized.
Oh hell, what was another few hours. “Can I get something lighter?”
He studied her for a moment as if gauging her level of inebriation, then nodded. “Rough day?”
Liv sighed. “You have no idea.”
“I’m Ross.” He extended a hand, which Liv shook.
Liv devoutly hoped it wasn’t going to be one of those situations where a straight man hit on her and she had to turn him down. It wasn’t always awkward, but there was little that could turn awkward faster. “Liv.”
“As in Olivia?” Ross looked surprised.
Liv frowned slightly. She didn’t quite recognize him. “Yes. Do I know you?”
“Cairo mentioned you sometimes,” Ross said, his voice casual as he turned to the tumblers and started cleaning.
“You knew Cairo?” Even under the fuzz of the alcohol, Liv could get her brain to work. Sadness pulled at her. Cairo’s death was still raw.
“She used to come here quite a bit,” Ross said agreeably. “She and her husband.”
“Fiancé,” Liv corrected.
Ross nodded, then hesitated. “I was sad to hear of her passing. Were you close?”
Liv didn’t look at him. “Yeah.” She exhaled slowly, then took a long drink of the beer Ross handed her. It wasn’t exactly tasty, but she didn’t care at the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Ross said.
“What did she do?” Liv asked hesitantly. She wasn’t investigating, she justified it to herself. She was just asking questions. “When she was here,” she added hastily.
“Drank and watch TV,” he said. “Sometimes came to the weekly poker nights.” He paused, thoughtfully. “She hadn’t been drinking lately, though.”
“High stakes?” Something about that tugged at Liv’s memory.
Ross laughed. “No, nothing of the sort.” He grinned. It was the type of grin that could bring straight women to their knees. “We play with fake poker chips. It’s an ego thing. Do you play?”
“No.” Liv had never learned any of the betting card games. She could play a mean game of Cribbage, though.
“Shame.” And Ross did truly look upset. “Well, if there’s anything you need, just call.” He winked at her and tipped his head, then turned to serve a couple other people who had come into the bar.
Cairo hadn’t been drinking lately, according to him. How accurate was that? Was he the only bartender? Could she have been coming in on other nights? Then it clicked. The pregnancy. Duh.
It really wasn’t the right time for her mostly-drunk brain to be contemplating all those things.
The doors blasted open in the way that only a drunk person could do, that barely-coordinated-yet-still-standing method that made so much noise for so little work.
“You!” The male voice boomed at her.
15
Monday 10th October; 9pm
Liv turned to look, the alcohol dulling her reflexes slightly. She was such a lightweight.
“You told everyone Cairo was pregnant.” Charles hissed at her. Liv stared, startled.
“What? No!” Yes, Liv had known, but only because Ryan had told her earlier that day. She certainly hadn’t told anyone.
“Then how does everyone know?” Charles’s eyes shot venom.
“I don’t know.” Liv paled.
“Charles, back off.” Another voice rang out, startling her. It was the icy-blonde Veronica, who sounded strong, yet looked one broken thread from running and crying.
Charles scoffed at her. “Like you could tell me what to do.”
“You’re drunk, you’re not thinking clearly.” Veronica’s voice was firm.
“So what’s your excuse?” Charles raised his eyebrows, derision making his words choppy on top of the alcohol. “You haven’t thought clearly for the last five years?”
Anger flashed across Veronica’s face, and her hands balled into fists. “Get out,” she hissed.
“Make me,” Charles challenged.
Liv was way too close to both of them for her liking. Especially when Charles swung at Veronica over her head. Liv yet out a yelp and dropped to the floor, trying to duck out of the way but blocked by the two fighting bodies.
Veronica apparently had abandoned her high heels to throw herself into the fray, both of them yelling.
“You’re adults, for fuck’s sake,” Liv muttered under her breath. The bitter humor distracted her, reminded her that there was a world outside this bar. Any wooziness the alcohol had brought her had disappeared in the midst of the shouting.
“Police! Drop that woman.” The doors burst open again, a small handful of police officers coming into the room to break up the fight.
One burly-looking man picked up Charles as if he was a doll, restraining him against the wall. Veronica was helped up, crumpled and wild-looking. Obviously Charles knew how to push her buttons.
“Who started this?” The burly officer looked between Charles and Veronica.
“He took the first swing,” Liv said before either of them could speak.
“It was that rat bastard,” Veronica hissed, spitting in his direction.
Liv wrinkled her nose in faint disgust.
“Fuck you,” Charles snarled back. “At least I’m not a pathetic liar.”
“All right.” The patrol officer cut it off with his no-nonsense voice. “Did you witness it?” He turned to Liv.
She nodded. “Charles originally approached me. Veronica was defending me.” That was mostly the truth, as far as anyone needed
