37. Byrd

37

Byrd

" B yrd."

I know that voice.

What the fuck is James doing in our bedroom? Echo better be under the covers and not flashing his ass, or I might have to kill my friend despite the pounding in my head. And why is my face wet?

I open my eyes. A dimly lit room that is definitely not my cabin swims blearily into view, framing the bulky shoulders and brunette head of my ex-brother-in-law.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Clancey called me." James jerks his head at the graying bartender, who gives me a wry smile and a shrug. Traitor. "The question is, what are you doing back in the old neighborhood getting plastered by yourself on a Sunday night?"

Fuck . Everything hurts, but when I try to close my eyes again, all I see is an empty pillow with an Echo-shaped imprint marring the 1600 thread-count cotton like a bitter haunting.

Reality isn't much better, though. James's coffee-colored eyes are rich with concern, and I'm pretty sure the puddle under my cheek is whiskey. At least it smells like the good stuff. I lift my head from my arms and squeeze the bridge of my nose in a futile attempt to stem the throb settling in behind my eyes.

"What time is it?" If I'm already halfway to hungover, it's probably too late to make the drive back to Mendo, even if I was in any condition to navigate the dark and twisty deathtrap of the 128.

"Ten past seven."

"You've been camped on that stool since noon," Clancey adds, oh so helpfully, and exchanges a significant look with my friend. Assuming we're still friends. I haven't talked to him since the semi-disastrous visit when Echo—

"Give me another shot of Basil, Clance." If I'm stuck in the city for another night, I might as well see if I can crawl back into oblivion. Thinking is clearly a terrible idea. "Please."

"I think you're all good, buddy," James says, laying a hand on my back. "Why don't you come crash at my place and let me get some food into you."

"Not afraid the guy who likes dick might try something if you bring him home drunk?" Shit . I'm not usually this good at being an asshole. The lines around James's mouth tighten under his short beard, but he only shakes his head and gently tries to pry me off the barstool.

"I think I can handle you."

I let him drag me to my feet but only make it as far as the first empty high-top table. The surface is blessedly whiskey-free, and I slump wearily into the matching chair before burying my face in my hands.

"I'm sorry," I mumble through my fingers. "I'm a shitty boyfriend."

"You're not my boyfriend. And for what it's worth, I don't think you were a shitty husband to Lara, either. "

"Lara? I'm talking about Echo."

He sighs and slides into the tall chair across from me, signaling Clancey over my shoulder. "The kid? Sorry." He lifts his hands in apology when I level a glare at him. "The guy you were…"

"Fucking. We were fucking each other."

"Okay, man. It's cool."

Clancey appears and sets a glass of ice water in front of me and a pint of dark beer in front of James.

"No." I shake my head. "That's wrong. We weren't just fucking. I…he was—Goddammit." Ice clinks and water sloshes over my fingers as I shove the glass away.

"You were in a relationship?"

"I'm fucking in love with him." I slam both hands down hard enough that the table tilts alarmingly as the matchbooks holding it level shoot out from under the leg to skitter across the floor. James grabs both glasses before they topple.

"Jesus, Byrd."

"Don't call me that."

"What the hell, man? Fucking talk to me. Tell me what happened."

"I fucked everything up." I lost him .

"How?" He eyes me skeptically. "He ask for something you weren't willing to give?"

"Fuck you." I stagger from the table back to the bar. "Whiskey, Clancey. Fucking please ."

The bastard has the nerve to look at James again. "How about a beer?"

"Fine. IPA."

"You get a Busch Light for passing out at my bar and being a dick to the guy who's trying to help you." Before I can argue, he cracks the tab on a cold can and slides it over. I swig half in one go and instantly regret it. Fucking piss water does nothing for my head. Or the gaping hole in my chest.

"Brother." James is at my elbow again, steering me back to the table. "Sorry if I touched a nerve. I didn't mean anything by it other than…I know how much you gave up to try and make my sister happy. And I know it wasn't your fault it didn't work. But Christ, I haven't seen you like this since before the divorce, and I thought maybe…"

"Echo didn't ask for anything."

" I'm telling you to take ."

Fucking hell, I couldn't even do that right.

"Except for me to be honest with him. And with myself. Turns out, I failed at both."

"You lied to him? That doesn't sound like you. What about?"

"I dated his brother in college." How easily the words come out now that they don't matter.

"Oh. Oh shit."

"The same brother who broke his wrist and almost ruined his career."

"What? His brother broke his arm?"

"Maybe. Probably. In a roundabout way. Gabriel's a sadistic fucking asshole, and I wouldn't put it past him." The memory of his face breaking under my knuckles pulls a dark grin to my face. I wish I'd pounded him into the ground when I'd had the chance.

"That's…seriously fucked up. Does Echo know?"

"His dad told him."

"And I'm guessing he also found out about the college thing?"

"Gabriel told him."

"Gabriel the brother? Shit. No wonder you're a mess. Where's Echo now? "

"He went back to LA with his dad this morning." Because I pushed him away with my guilt and my misplaced savior complex.

Because I thought he'd fight me like he always does, only this time, he slipped out of my grasp like a wraith in the middle of the night. And I woke up alone for the first time in months with nothing left but a single message on my phone.

Do you miss me yet?

I suck down the second half of my crappy beer and contemplate how pissed Clancey would be if I climbed over the bar and swiped the bottle of Basil Hayden. Maybe if I went for a cheaper one, he'd let it slide.

James sighs, reading my intent, and takes pity on me. "Bring him one more, Clance. And I'll take a double."

"Don't you have somewhere better to be?" I ask. "I don't need a babysitter. There's a motel around the corner."

"Fuck off." He grins. "I'm taking you home to sleep it off. If you keep acting so pathetic, I might even let you snuggle me."

"You're not my type."

"Let me guess. Your type is young, blue-haired, and tattooed, with a smart mouth and a bubble butt."

Bubble butt?

He throws his head back with a genuine laugh.

"I work tech in the Bay Area, remember? I pick up a few things."

"I don't care. Never say those words in my presence again."

"Hey, I'm only trying to bond with you." The place is starting to fill up with the evening crowd, so he walks back to the bar to retrieve our shots. "Now," he says, after I knock mine back and he takes a respectable swallow. "Tell me why you're drowning your broken heart with Clancey instead of chasing that boy of yours down and getting him back." For once, I don't argue with the "boy" comment. It hits a little too close to home.

"He's leaving for college in a month. His whole life is about to start, and he doesn't need me holding him back."

"Why would you try to hold him back?"

"I wouldn't try to, asshole. I just would. Did you hear the part about how he's leaving? No way I'd ask him to give up the prime years of his career to hole up with me in Mendocino."

"So why couldn't you go with him? The school's in Tilburg, right? Your hometown?"

Is he fucking kidding me ? I snag the glass in front of him and drain the last inch of his whiskey before he can protest.

"Because. He didn't ask me to."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Byrd. Of course he didn't ask you to."

"Exactly." Maybe if I'd stuck to the beer, he'd be making sense?

"Get your head out of your ass, old man. This kid, Echo —I'm assuming he knows about your history with Lara? You didn't hide that from him, or you never would've let him meet me and Elke."

"He knows everything." Now . "What does it matter?"

The mirth fades, replaced with compassion.

"It matters, you idiot, because that's exactly what my sister did to you. She asked you to give up your life for her. And Echo knows it destroyed your marriage. If he loves you as much as you obviously love him, he'd never do that to you again. It doesn't mean he wouldn't say yes if you offered."

"I can't keep chasing the people I love across the world, James. Echo is the one who drove that home for me."

"It's not the chasing that's the issue. It's what you leave behind." He slaps me on the shoulder and stands up from his chair. "Try to figure that one out while I go get my car."