Page 24 of Captured Memories

Lex bobbed his head in a nod, his hands balled into fists at his side. Liv clutched her camera for support, because the brew of emotions swirling in her had grown almost too much to bear. As the servers whisked the dishes away from the tables and guests flooded the dance floor, she lifted her camera to capture the smiles and joy she couldn’t be further from feeling. The motions turned automatic as she shut her brain off. Time passed by with agonizing slowness while her nerves mounted, the adrenaline pushing her to just go.

Zane needed to hold on, just a little while longer, because she was coming to find him.

The decision to wear heels,even shorter ones, was one she came to regret by the time she managed to make her escape. An after party still raged in the hotel bar and a lot of her extended family hadn’t left yet, but Liv had served her time and right now, finding Zane took precedence.

She pulled in front of his apartment with a screeching halt, praying he’d gone home and holed himself away. Based on the darkened windows above Slice of Heaven, the brief hope was about to get extinguished. She clattered up the aluminum steps to his place, her calves aching at the motion even as her mind urged her to go faster and faster. Once she twisted the doorknob, disappointment swept through her.

Locked.

Liv tried knocking, even though she didn’t believe he waited inside. Her stomach twisted as the realization of where he’d be hit her. The screen of her phone glowed against the shadows as she thumbed through a list of the nearest dive bars. She spotted his car on the opposite side of the street, and knew wherever he was it would be within walking distance.

Of course, this was Bardstown, where the dive bar reigned supreme.

However, if she were drowning in self-loathing and looking for a drink, she’d choose the rattiest, dirtiest bar on the block, one that was lucky to get two seats filled a night.

Liv knew just the place.

She’d spent a couple nights slumming in Hideaway when she wanted to be away from everyone else—when drinking alone in her apartment made things worse. Little did she know, Zane had lived mere blocks away the entire time. Liv set off on foot, even though her calves screamed and her feet ached. Her nails bit into her palms from balling her fists too tightly as she tried to keep from racing along the sidewalk to cross the short distance.

Tucked along a brick-covered side alley with a barely marked entrance and a flickering yellow overhead, Hideaway Bar remained a berth for those who’d hit rock bottom. Liv sucked in a sharp breath as she approached. She might not be an alcoholic, but she could understand the self-loathing that haunted his eyes too many days, and she’d experienced the dizzying loneliness and desolation, like every chance to breathe got smothered until she lost the will to fight.

She approached the wooden door, her fingers gliding against the grain before she rallied her nerves and pushed.

The scent of smoke and stale Miller Lite greeted her on her first steps inside, her soles sticking to the hardwood, her nose wrinkling at the faint scent of vomit. The glare of the flat screen reflected on empty wooden tables, and a bartender slouched behind the pine bar lining the right side.

Her gaze focused on the familiar form hunched over the bar, slumped into his stool like he belonged there. His suit jacket lay rumpled beside him, his tie undone, and his once-pressed button-down lay open to reveal his undershirt. His mane hung loose around his shoulders, and his glazed eyes stared at the bar in front of him, his grip tight around the near-empty pint glass in his hand. Liv began walking towards him when the bartender glanced to her and then over to Zane. “You here to pick him up? He’s been knocking shots back since he arrived.”

Liv gave him a brisk nod and approached the stool with caution. Zane looked up at her, squinting a couple of times before shaking his head as if to clear his vision. He reeked of alcohol, and the eight empty shot glasses lining the counter in front of him were telltale. She remembered when he used to drink in his final year of high school, how she used to steer clear of him on those benders. Though they usually involved her brother, the difference was that her brother drank for fun, while Zane drank because he wanted to die.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he focused on her. His fingertips curled into the splintered bar, taking off some slivers in the process. “Livs, get the hell out of here.” With the slight slur in his words, a casual onlooker wouldn’t think he was that far gone, but between the way he hunched and clutched onto anything near him and how his eyes kept going unfocused, she knew he was near the blackout point.

The sight broke her heart, because she understood better than anyone how in the sober light of day, Zane would hate himself for this. For lapsing in the constant effort he put in to stay away from the bottle. The near-daily meetings, the distractions, the distance from others—all that effort destroyed by one bad night. Feeling ballsy, she snagged a seat on the stool beside him. They had a hell of a lot to talk about, but those conversations were better saved for a time when both of them were in the right frame of mind.

“Can I get a water?” she asked the barkeep.

“Livs, you’re supposed to stay away from me,” Zane argued, his tone dark and his eyes filled with desperate aggression. But Liv wouldn’t back down, couldn’t walk away. “I can’t be the guy you need right now—if ever.”

She was tempted to argue but held her tongue. Arguing with a drunk bordered on lunacy.The bartender placed the glass of water in front of her, and she took a sip for herself before passing the rest to Zane. He might not welcome the help right now, but after the shit hand life dealt him he deserved someone in his corner.

Tonight, she’d fight for him.

“Drink,” she instructed in a calm tone as she handed the glass off. He opened his mouth to protest, but she fixed him with an unwavering stare. She watched the anger and aggression deflate, his emotions parading on Front Street; he had always been easy to read. A second later he swigged down the glass of water like it was another shot of bourbon.

“Let’s head back to your apartment. You can argue with me there,” she said, keeping her tone level, but firm. His brows furrowed, and he staggered up from his stool. She knew better than to offer him help, even though the urge to throw her arms around him, breathe in the scent of sage and smokes, and walk him to the door was so strong.

She tried not to look back when she reached the chipped door of the Hideaway, just took comfort in the thud of slow footsteps that meant he still followed her. Outside in the brisk night air, she heard the creak and groan of the door closing, and turned back to look at him.

“You coming? I’m sorta going to need you to unlock your place if I’m staying there tonight,” she said nonchalantly, trying to keep him from tipping too far in any direction. He ran a hand through his hair, his face filled with grief, like he’d lost his best friend. In a way, something had shattered for him tonight. The sobriety he’d worked so hard on, all those hours, days, minutes of dedication swept away in a single lapse.

However, Liv had learned a thing or two about putting pieces back together. She’d experienced how a single moment could shatter you, and still she had survived. She refused to let the past, their damage, or this break here and now keep them apart.

They neared the steps of his apartment, the midnight shadows seeping into the cracks and seams of the building. She latched tight to the railing, the cool metal pressing into her palm, the heavy thump of his boots hitting the aluminum stairs behind her providing a measure of comfort.

Zane stepped in front of her and fumbled with the key, trying and failing the first couple of times to jam it into the lock. Liv watched in silence behind folded arms as her nails bit into her arms. Right now, he probably mistook her quiet for judgment or disapproval, but they could clear up any misunderstandings later.

Finally, he managed to open the door and staggered inside. Liv slipped in quickly in case he changed his mind and tried to shut her out. Zane didn’t bother turning on any of the lights, just made a beeline for his couch. Without another word, he dropped onto the cushions and curled to his side. Liv crept forward, bumping her shins on an end table and colliding with a chair she missed as she tried to dodge around the stacks of books and the random piles of papers on his coffee table.

By the time Liv made her way over, his eyes were shut, those long lashes on full display, his face calm. His shoulders rose and fell with the steady rhythm of sleep. The relief that struck her almost brought her to her knees. Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed the sobs threatening to break. She had been so afraid since he had left the wedding, so destroyed by the shame and sadness in his eyes when she’d found him. Her limbs trembled with the effort to remain calm and strong.

She reached in his back pocket and pulled out his phone. This might have been a lapse, but she refused to allow tonight to turn into a full-blown descent into drinking again. His phone lock was a simple swipe, so within seconds she scrolled through his calls, searching for repetition. One name popped up over and over again. Liv sucked in a deep breath and pressed the call button.

A couple of rings sounded as she stood there in the dark her heart hammering in her chest.

“Hello?” a deep male’s voice came from the other end.

“Hey, I’m Zane’s girlfriend, Liv. He hit the bottle tonight, and I think he’s going to need your help.”