Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
Jaxon
I t was pouring down rain when I stepped out of the Atlanta airport. I hadn’t even bothered packing a bag for this impromptu trip. After seeing Zeppelin at the police station, still beautiful despite his swollen, bruised face, I hadn’t been able to stay in Gainesville a second fucking longer. I booked a flight as soon as I got home and then asked Spencer to drive me to the airport.
My son hadn’t asked questions, though he’d looked concerned. Instead, when I asked him if he could watch Ash until I was ready to come home—I hadn’t bought a return flight—he nodded and told me, “Of course.”
My phone was dead by now—had died halfway through the flight while I was playing games on it—so I flagged down a taxi waiting outside the terminal. I knew it would cost more than an Uber, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. After giving him the name of the liquor store closest to the cemetery Spencer and I had put a headstone for Penelope, even though she’d been cremated, I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, fucking tired. But I knew sleep would evade me.
Thirty minutes later, the taxi driver parked in front of the liquor store. I forked over a hundred dollars, mumbled for him to keep the change, and angled out of the car, heading straight for the Vodka aisle. I grabbed two of the cheapest brands on the shelf, knowing it would fuck me up a lot faster, and headed for the counter.
“Rough night?” the man working the counter asked.
I nodded. “A fucking shit-tastic one,” I grumbled, passing over the cash to pay for the drinks. “Thanks,” I said when he passed me my change. After shoving the crumpled bills into my pocket, I snatched the bottles off the counter, heading for the door.
“I hope your night gets better.”
“This should help,” I responded before I pushed out the door and into the rain. It was a ten-minute walk to the cemetery and an additional two minutes to find the plot we’d bought for Penelope. The cancer had eaten away at her too much to do a funeral. But I still wanted Spencer to have a place to visit, which he’d done a few times since her passing.
I never thought I’d have dragged my ass here when life got rough though.
I sat on the wet ground, the cold water on the ground immediately seeping through my jeans. I leaned my back against the headstone before twisting the cap off the Vodka bottle, a satisfying crack sounding in the air as the seal broke. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I tilted it back, letting the cheap liquor burn down my throat as I guzzled a couple of mouthfuls.
A humorless laugh spilled from my lips as I set the bottle on my thigh, glaring up at the dark, starless, rainy sky. “Well, princess, I moved on like you told me to, and now, I’m hurting more than I was when I was mourning you.” I snickered, shaking my head at my shit luck. “You always were a pain in my ass. Why do I always fall for the ones who hurt me in the end?”
No one spoke back to me, though I hadn’t expected them to. Only the sound of the rain pounding down around me filled my ears. The air was cooler in Atlanta—much cooler than it was in Gainesville, and it left me shivering. I brought the bottle back to my lips, swallowing more of the cheap Vodka in hopes of warming up—or at least getting drunk enough I no longer felt the cold.
I’d officially hit rock bottom. I was a forty-three-year-old man who couldn’t handle heartbreak. Fuck, I was a mess. Thank fuck Spencer was already grown and had two other men to lean on because now, I was useless to him.
Sighing, I leaned my head back on the cold, wet stone behind me. “Well, princess,” I raised my bottle to the crying sky, “welcome to rock bottom.”
My eyelids were heavy, and my eyeballs felt swollen. My muscles ached, and I was shivering, my teeth chattering. Groaning, I blinked my aching eyes open, wincing and groaning at the sunlight beating down on me. The sun was high enough in the sky that I knew it was late in the morning, but the rain the night before had made the temperatures drop, and I was fucking freezing.
Even now, I could feel a cold coming on. My nose was stuffed, and my throat was sore as hell. Groaning, I pushed onto my hands and knees, my hand knocking against the two empty liquor bottles. Muttering a curse beneath my breath at my splitting headache, I stood shakily to my feet and leaned the two empty liquor bottles against Penelope’s headstone. A little gift for her. If I didn’t feel so terrible, I’d have laughed at myself.
It was her fault I was like this anyway. She should’ve just left me alone instead of meddling in my life, making me keep my stupid promise to her.
I made my way out of the cemetery and began walking toward downtown, where I knew I could find a hotel. Five minutes into my walk, I vomited, my head hurting like a mother fucker and the alcohol sloshing around in my belly. I was pretty sure I was still fucking drunk.
A taxi was up ahead, and I waved it down before sliding into the backseat with a grimace. “I’ll pay extra for your wet seats,” I told him before he could bitch and order me to get out. “Take me to the first hotel you reach in downtown.”
He nodded and pulled off from the curb. I closed my eyes, falling back asleep easily. The driver was shaking me awake what felt like a second later, but I knew it’d been longer. After forking over another hundred, I slid out of the car and made my way inside, asking for a room and paying extra to get into it before the stupid three P.M. check-in time.
Once I was in my room, I stripped out of my clothes, too fucking tired and feeling too shitty to deal with a shower, even though I knew I needed one. Instead, I face-planted on the bed and promptly passed out, too tired and sick to even pull the blankets over my naked body.