His rambling voice trails off and I get an instant headache. I press my fingertips into my temple.
“Okay, I’ll be right there.”
I end the call and throw my legs over the side of the bed. Leave it to Perry to violate his parole and my sleep at the same time. I’m still so furious with him I can’t figure out why I’m scrambling around for something to wear. After assessing my wrecked face in the mirror, I smear on some concealer and mascara. Next, I rummage through my laundry basket for some decent looking jeans and grab my favorite grey hoodie. He can’t expect miracles at two in the morning.
I lock all the deadbolts on the door and make my way into the street. I could drive the three blocks over to the bar, but it seems like a waste. Besides, it may be amusing to watch Perry stumble home.
Walking fast, I arrive in under five minutes. I spot him immediately, slumped over at the end of the bar. He has his signature mixer clutched in his hand, with one leg planted on the floor.
Phil nods to me when I step inside. I walk over and lean into him.
“He’s been here since a little after seven. I didn’t have the heart to turn him away with all that he’s going through and stuff.” He runs a bar rag across the counter and nods to Perry. “When I asked him who to call, he said you.”
My eyes widen. After the conversation we had the other day, why in the hell would Perry have someone call me? I force a smile.
“I’ll get him home. Thanks for not calling the cops.”
Phil waves me off. “Perry’s family around here. What he did time for was bullshit. Any one of us would have done the same thing.”
I keep my features even. True, Perry served time for protecting his sister from an abusive asshole, but the other crimes he got away with brought us all down.
I walk over to Perry, and he lifts his head up just before I reach him.
He smiles a stupid grin. “You came?”
“Of course I came. Apparently, I’m your emergency contact.”
He chuckles and almost falls off his stool. I place my hand on his shoulder to steady him. He covers my hand with his and looks into my eyes. “You’re always there for me, Tess.”
For a second I have to make sure my mouth isn’t hanging open. Did he just call me Tess?
I brush it off and pull him off the stool. “You ready to go champ? I think these are the kinds of places you’re supposed to avoid.”
Perry attempts to stand, but then grabs both my arms. His bloodshot eyes meet mine again and I can’t look away. There’s so much pain in them it tears at my own shattered heart.
“I did something bad tonight.”
I run my hand along his head to soothe him. “We all do bad things, Perry. The important thing is that we know they were wrong, so we don’t do them again.”
He bites his lip, looking away from me. “I will.”
“You will what?”
He turns back to me, his eyes darkened. “I’ll do it again.”
I put my arm under his shoulder. “Okay, let’s get out of here. Let me help you.”
He drapes his arm over my shoulder and we walk in a semi-straight line. We make it a few steps and he stops, reaching for his wallet.
Phil shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Perry. We’re square.”
Perry thanks him before I drag him into the street. He pulls away from me and leans on the brick wall. I cross my arms.
“Care to explain to me what that was about?”
He’s bent over, one arm resting on the wall, the other dangling down at his side.
I raise an eyebrow. “Perry? Are you going to be sick?”
Before I can get all the words out, Perry vomits a stream of brown liquid down the side of the building. I cover my face and turn away as the sounds of him retching makes me queasy. Just when I think he’s done, he starts all over again. I wasn’t even sure a person could consume that much liquid.
When I hear his ragged breathing, I turn back to look at him. He has good aim, hit the wall perfectly and missed his clothes completely. I reach into my bag and pull out a scarf that I never want returned.
“Here,” I say, handing it to him. He takes it from me without looking up and wipes his mouth. His lips turn up when he opens his eyes and sees what it is.
“Smells like you,” he slurs.
“And it’s my favorite scarf too, so you’re lucky.”
He gives a lop-sided grin. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
My frustration mounts when I think of the appointment I have scheduled at nine in the morning. “Do you think you can walk now?”
He looks to his car parked along the street and back to me. “It’s like… um, five miles.”
“No, dumbass. To my house. The shop is three blocks over. You can stay in the spare room until you sober up.”
His face goes white, and he looks like he might be sick again. “I don’t think… I mean, that doesn’t sound like…”
I grab him by the sleeve of his hoodie and pull him forward. “You don’t have a choice. You don’t have to talk to me, but I will get you into a bed safely before you get arrested.” I point my finger into his chest. “Do you understand?”
I enunciate each word for him and he nods.
We start walking again and I keep a tight grip on his sleeve. When we round the corner my hand slips away and instead of grabbing his sleeve again, he grabs my hand first. I let him lace his fingers with mine if that’s what it’s going to take to get him to keep moving. The next two blocks go on without any more complications as we come to a stop at the entrance of my shop.
I release his hand and reach in my bag from my keys.
“You shouldn’t be out alone at night, Bishop,” Perry says looking around. “This a shady part of town.”
I laugh under my breath as I start with the top lock. “Thank you for your concern.”
He grabs my shoulder, so I turn my head to look at him. The expression he has is so serious for as drunk as he is. “I mean it, Bishop. You’re a small girl. Someone could overtake you easily.”
I keep on the other three locks, ignoring his statement. When I push the door open, I motion him inside first.
“You know the way,” I say with a nod to the stairs.
He walks a few steps and then pauses with his hand on the railing. “Are you coming up?”
“Yeah, I’ll be up in a minute.”
Perry grips the railing and then makes his way up the stairs. When I hear all the doors open and close like they should, I take a seat on the over-sized chair by the window. I reach into my bag and pull out my phone, scrolling to my saved messages. My finger pauses on the one I listen to the most. I squeeze my eyes shut and hold it to my ear after pressing play.
“… Hey baby. I’m running a little late tonight but I should be home soon. God, I miss you. How did I get so lucky to have you forever? I can’t wait to see you. I love you…”
As soon as the audio ends, I play it again.
And again.
My hoodie is soaked with tears by the time I finally stop.
When I’ve had enough, I scroll down to another number and hit send. It goes straight to voicemail, but I don’t have the heart to turn it off.
“… Hey, you’re reached Walker. You know what to do. Hang up and text me. Hahaha!...”