The ice-blue eyes of his father seemed to glow red with rage. “I hate you. You are good for nothing. Dirty bastard that you are, you’ll never amount to anything. You hear me? You’re nothing!” The edges of Bently’s vision darkened. He wasn’t strong enough. I’m gonna die and they’ll be next.
The pounding blood in his ears didn’t fully drown out Mikel’s screams and Jasmine’s crying. A small hand pressed down on his father’s, making him release his hold. Bently crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath through his burning throat. He looked up in time to see his father’s hand slap across his mother’s face, leaving a scarlet handprint against her fair skin.
He’d failed her. Again.
Bently shot out of bed, gasping in fresh oxygen. His eyes scanned the darkened room, alert. His body buzzed from the adrenaline, and was slick with sweat. The only sound in the room came from the football game still playing on the television. He’d fallen asleep on the couch. It was just a dream. Just a memory.
He shut the TV off and ran upstairs. He needed to clear his head. He’d start with a shower.
***
An hour later, Bently sat at The Shipwreck downing his third whiskey for the night. He normally stuck to beer and limited himself to two drinks, wanting to be nothing like the man who shared half his biology. He’d prove that everything in life was a choice. Bently would be better. Despite what the monster had done to try to break him, he’d risen above.
But tonight, Bently just wanted to forget. Because for the first time in a long time, he wished he could be someone else. Someone who could love and be worthy of love in return. He was too broken.
Belle had made it clear she couldn’t be with him in the way he wanted without getting her heart involved. Bently may have been an asshole, but he wasn’t that selfish. He shook his head. He wouldn’t use her like that. She needed someone deserving of her, who’d take care of her. Someone who could give her a full life with everything she wanted. He wasn’t even fully a man thanks to fucking cancer. No woman who wanted a future would choose him if they knew.
The small voice inside him whispered, She’ll leave you, once she sees what a failure you are. You couldn’t even protect those you loved most.
His mother had killed herself, leaving them all alone with that monster. He hadn’t been able to get her out in time. His brother had even left without a word. Yeah, he was back, having faced his demons and found his happiness with Remy.
Jasmine was the only constant in his life, but she needed him to watch over her, like he’d failed to do in the past. So many people depended on him, and he couldn’t afford another. His grip tightened around the glass as his thoughts spiraled. So many reasons to stay away from her.
Claire Reed approached him, bottle of whiskey in her hand. “Would you like another?”
He nodded. “Just fill ’er up.”
Claire’s eyes crinkled at the sides. Her brow furrowed with concern, but she didn’t ask questions and did as he said. That was one thing he liked about Claire Reed—she kept her thoughts to herself.
“How’s Finn?” he asked as she finished pouring.
She smiled. “He’s hangin’ in there. Promised me some grandbabies when he gets back from deployment.”
“He’s a good man.” Bently smiled, highlights of their shenanigans in high school playing a loop in his mind.
Lieutenant Finn Reed, dressed in his battle dress uniform, stopping by the station to say goodbye before he was deployed. “Take care of my girl while I’m gone.”
Charli’s swollen face flashed, sobering his thoughts. Another failure. He’d get the bastard eventually. “How’s Charli doing?”
Claire sighed, wiping down the bar as she looked around them. He followed her gaze towards the few patrons with their backs turned away from them. “She’s hanging in there. Any leads on catching the asshole who did it?”
Bently shook his head, drawing the glass closer. “Not yet. Camera catches the assault, but then he runs off out of view. Must have had a car waiting down the road. Too dark to make out his face or any distinguishing details. And the footage from inside had their faces obscured. The lighting in this place doesn’t help.”
Claire shook her head.
“I’ll get him,” he promised her, and she nodded once before she walked down the bar, tending to the other patrons looking for a good time.
Bently tipped the glass to his lips, drinking down the alcohol until it didn’t burn anymore. The liquor’s warmth buzzed through his veins, easing the ache in his chest and clusterfuck in his mind. He’d have to let Belle go. That was the only way to keep them both safe.
“Hey, baby. Looks like you could use some company,” a husky voice said from his side. He turned and the room spun with him. Was there one or two women in front of him?
The old Bently would have said something witty and put his arm around her, or them. Then he’d go back to their place and fuck all night. But this Bently hadn’t been with anyone since the diagnosis. That was well over a year without the company of a woman. He hadn’t had anyone he was truly interested in, until Belle. She’d sparked something to life in him. If there was something he’d learned from the whole experience of being on death’s door, it was that life was short, tomorrow was never promised,
