Page 32 of Give Me Three

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Page 32 of Give Me Three

I thought he might be just by the way he’d been staring at Zeppelin yesterday—longing and pain in his eyes. But I also knew he had three overprotective kids—one of those kids being one that wasn’t afraid to throw his fists around and get arrested to protect the man who’d become his father figure. He’d done anumber to my husband. Zeppelin’s eye was black, and his throat was bruised in the shape of Logan’s hand.

The drive to Jaxon’s took me about ten minutes since traffic was light. When I pulled into the driveway, I saw Logan’s Jeep parked next to Jaxon’s Toyota. Sighing and preparing myself for a fight, I angled out of my car and walked up to the door, ringing the doorbell, my heart in my throat and my stomach in knots.

The door opened, and Spencer blinked at me in surprise. “Oh, hey,” he said, smiling at me, though it looked a little uneasy. “What’s up?”

“Um, is Jaxon home?” I asked, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I want to talk to him.”

Spencer grimaced. “Dad…” He sighed. “Dad flew to Atlanta on a red-eye flight last night.”

I blinked. Then, I blinked again. Because, surely, I hadn’t heard him right. “What?” I asked, not understanding. “He… left?”

Spencer nodded, scuffing his foot along the rug beneath his bare feet. “I think he needed some space or alone time. I’m not sure. He’s been a… mess, to put it lightly.” I swallowed thickly, unsure what to do with this new information. “He asked me to come take care of Ash, so since we can’t have pets at the apartment, Logan, Ezra, and I are staying here until he comes back.”

I rubbed at my arm, feeling displaced. How was I meant to fix all this shit when Jaxon had dipped out of town? “When is he supposed to be back?”

Spencer shrugged, his eyes pinched. “I don’t know, honestly. He didn’t book a return flight. Just said he’d be back once his head was clear.” He offered me a tight smile. “I wish I knew more,Eros. I really do. I know Logan and Ezra have been… rude, but I know this wasn’t your fault.”

I nodded. “Thanks,” I rasped. “I, uh—if you have any problems with Ash, please call me or bring her into the office. I know he transferred her records, but?—”

“I will,” Spencer assured me. “She should continue seeing the vet she’s been seeing from the get-go anyway.”

I nodded, lost for words, and turned on my heel, walking back to my car. Once I was in the driver’s seat, I grabbed my phone from the passenger seat and texted Jaxon.

Eros:I’m sorry you and Zeppelin had a falling out, but please don’t cut me out, Jax. I miss you. There has to be a way to fix all of this.

CHAPTER 23

Jaxon

It 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, Ileaned 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.




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