39. Max

I wasdrunk off my ass.

Again.

Stumbling around my hut, I tried to find a bottle that wasn’t empty. I tossed one after another aside, tripping over air and nearly fucking up my face when I hit the dresser.

I thought drinking would lessen the pain. I thought moving to a smaller hut would help me forget the week I spent on the island with Christa. It turns out, it would take a hell of a lot more tequila, and a different fucking island for me to forget how amazing it was with her.

I bent over, picking up what I thought was a flower. I stared at it, grinning as it reminded me of her. Then it started moving. I flung it from my hands and backed up across the room, ramming into the wooden chest next to the wall.

“What the fuck was that?”

I scrubbed a hand down my face and shuddered at how I was staring longingly at something that could have very well eaten me. I had to get out of here. I had to get back to my life, and live it for me. No one else would make my life better. I was a fucking island.

I made my way across the beach, stumbling into the bar where I once celebrated my wedding. There were no people I knew. The bartender looked at me like a piece of shit, and the women cringed when they saw me struggle to get on the stool.

“Tequila,” I muttered.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Hey, I’m on vacation.”

He slapped a slip down in front of me and scowled. “No drinks until you pay your tab from last night.”

I picked it up, squinting so I could read the numbers. “Is that a one or a nine?”

“It’s a nine.”

I chuckled, tossing it back at him. “That’s not my bill. I know I didn’t drink enough to owe nine hundred dollars.”

“You didn’t, but you offered everyone here a free drink. Or ten.” With two fingers, he slid the paper back to me. “That’s your bill.”

Fuck, I must have been really tanked. I didn’t remember doing any of that. Still, I got out my credit card and slid it over to him. Normally, I wouldn’t use a credit card. I paid for my drinks only with cash on hand, and when I was running low, I took a job.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Cash’s number. “Hey!” I said cheerily, hoping my depression wouldn’t shine through. “I need a job.”

“You had a job,” he said tersely. “You left it.”

“Right, but only because I was depressed,” I slurred. “I don’t know if you heard, but I broke up with Christa.”

“Yeah, I fucking heard. How the hell do you think she got home?”

I hadn’t really thought about that. She left me here, and I drank myself to the bottom of a bottle. “You mean, she’s not on the no-fly thingy?”

“Nope.”

“Great! So, I can fly again!”

“Not a chance in hell. You’ve been drunk for the past week.”

I glanced around, looking for cameras, but frankly, with the way the world was spinning, it was pretty fucking hard to locate them. “Are you spying on me?”

“What do you think?”

I lowered my voice, cupping my hand around the phone. “What am I doing right now?”

“Sitting at the bar.”

My eyes widened in shock. “How the fuck did you know that?”

“I have eyes everywhere. You didn’t really think I’d leave you down there and not have cameras set up in every corner, did you?”

Again, I tried to find them, but as I spun, so did the world and I fell off the stool.

“Nice.” I heard the chuckle in his voice. “I’m glad you’re using this time to really think about what a mess you’ve made of your life.”

I sighed heavily. “I need some money. Can you spot me some cash?” I started laughing because I was asking Cash for cash.

“No, I can’t spot you some cash.”

“But…you’re my boss.”

“Was your boss,” he corrected. “You had promise. And for a while, I thought you might be able to turn things around. Christa was good for you, even if you had a rocky relationship.”

“She left me,” I grumbled. “Not sure she was good for me.”

“She could have been. The truth is, Max, I wanted to believe in you. I thought somewhere inside that drunken mess, there was a man who was damaged and just needed someone to help him out of the drunken hole he was in.”

My eyes widened as he spoke. “Boss, I hate to break it to you, but I really am this shallow. There’s no damaged man. Just a guy who likes his life the way it is.”

“I realize that now. And that tells me there’s no way to help you. You’re on your own now. No more rescues. This is the end of the line.”

I snorted. “Like I haven’t heard that before. But let me tell you something, Max Huxley always lands on his feet.”

I stumbled off the stool and promptly fell backward into the sand. I heard Cash laughing at me through the phone.

“Yeah, it looks like you do. I’m sure you’ll have a great life, drinking and sleeping around. It’s what you always wanted, and you got it.”

The line went dead. I sat in the sand for a minute, trying to figure out if he was serious. Then I called him back.

“Yeah?”

“Are you really leaving me here?”

“Let me ask you something, Max. Look around. Do you see anyone you know?”

I glanced around, but there was no one. Only strangers wandering around, enjoying their vacations. “Nope.”

“I guess there’s your answer.”

The line went dead again. He’d given up on me, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. This was the life I wanted, so did it really matter if Cash wasn’t here to haul me off my feet and yell at me? I half expected Fox to run out, singing some show tune, or argue with me for eating the last of his Funyuns. Or maybe FNG would run into the water to save some woman who was drowning, yelling the whole time about how he couldn’t die. Hell, I’d even take Dash right now, bragging about how amazing he was.

But I sat in the sand, staring at my toes and realized none of them were coming.