“Free country, Fletcher,” Jake said, taking another hit of his joint. “Find your own fucking seat.”
“You know him, Abby?” Owen asked me.
“Not really,” I said. “We’re just sort of chatting.”
“You don’t want to chat with the likes of him,” Owen said. “He may be from around here, but he ain’t like us.”
“That makes two of us,” I said quietly, as I downed the last of my beer.
“What was that?” Owen asked.
“Nothing.” I stood up. “Nothing at all.” I swayed. It took me a second or two to find my footing. Again, I hiccupped.
Oh, great.
Jake stood and turned to me like he was going to help me steady myself. I made sure to put distance between us. Owen held out another red cup.
“I think she had enough, man,” Jake said. Their gazes locked. I swore I could see a heat wave of anger rising between them.
Owen put the cup in my hand despite Jake’s warning.
The two men stared down each one another like cage fighters preparing for a match. They were both about the same height, but Jake was blonde with light features and dressed like a member of Hell’s Angels, while Owen’s dark hair and green eyes stood in contrast to his All-American jeans-and-white t-shirt style.
Just as I thought they would pummel each other, another wayward hiccup escaped my mouth. I suddenly felt as if I would be sick. I leaned over the log and almost fell, but I steadied myself before anyone tried to help me. “I see those drinks are working,” Owen said.
“Nope. Not working.”
“How are they not working?” Owen asked. Jake wasn’t touching me, but I could almost feel his presence beside me.
“I still remember how much my life sucks.” It was an honest answer, but one I wouldn’t have given nine beers or so earlier.
“Then, let’s get you some more,” Owen offered, gesturing to his truck. The lightness was back in his voice. The tension from a second ago was gone.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Abby?” Jake chimed in. Alissa appeared from behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She peeked out past his shoulder. She looked scared, as she should have been. I had half a mind to throw her into the fire. Jake unwrapped her arms, separating himself from her. She looked offended, but he didn’t seem to care. He took a step toward me.
Owen started to say something, but I interrupted him. I didn’t need him to answer my questions for me. “Nope. Not nearly enough,” I answered. I tried not to slur, but I was pretty sure I had.
The look on Jake’s face looked a lot like concern. For me? I chalked that one up to the alcohol. There was no way the same man—the stranger—who’d pulled a gun on me less than 24 hours ago was in any way concerned for my well-being. “You and Alissa have fun, okay?” I may have placed too much emphasis on her name, as if it tasted bitter in my mouth. He paused to look into my eyes for what felt like hours before looking from me to Owen. Finally, he shrugged and started walking away. Alissa trailed behind him like a lost puppy. “And Jake?” I called out. He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. “Give the girl a warning next time, okay?” I didn’t stay for his reaction but laughed myself silly all the way back to Owen’s truck.
“What was that all about?” Owen asked. I pretended not to hear him. I decided I’d actually had enough to drink after all, so instead I took my last joint from my back pocket and asked Owen to borrow his lighter. As soon as the smoke filled my lungs, I started to feel better. I held it there good and long before offering Owen a hit. We sat in the cab of the truck for a while with the windows rolled up, letting the high take over, and becoming mesmerized by the lyrics of the Tyler Farr song on the radio. When the joint was spent and the crowd had thinned to only a few people, Owen turned on the engine, and we headed down the trail that led out of the woods.
I was drunk, I was high, and I was pretty sure I couldn’t remember my own name.
Mission accomplished.
CHAPTER SIX
I MUST HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP in the truck because the next thing I knew, we were pulling into the driveway at Owen’s house. At first, I was stunned. I’d made it a rule that I’d never fall asleep unless I was alone. It was a little after three in the morning. I was becoming quite the night owl.
“Thanks for tonight, Owen. It was…interesting.”
“How do you know Jake?” Owen asked, cutting the engine, his mouth set in a hard line, his eyes accusing and cold. He rolled down the window and lit a cigarette.