Page 42 of Fifty
Two glasses later, and Ayla’s handing me a blanket to sleep on their couch. I can hear myself rambling about love, marriage, and babies, but I’m pretty sure I’m making no fucking sense whatsoever. Ayla’s hands grip my shoulders and she gives me a hug, like she truly cares.
“If it’s meant to be, you’ll know it,” she offers, and if anyone knows, it’s her. She went through hell with Kane, but their love for each other won out.
“Thanks, darlin’. Sometimes you’re too nice to me,” I mutter, feeling my eyes close as I lay back against the soft cushions.
“You’re God damn right she is” I hear Kane’s deep chuckle from around the corner. I’m sure he’s been listening the whole time. I know he trusts us together, but he can’t help that protective instinct when it comes to his woman.
“Goodnight,” Ayla whispers, leaving me to my drunken dreams. A dark-haired, green-eyed dancing beauty comes into focus, but I’m forced to watch at a distance as she dances for everyone but me.
Twenty-Seven
Jade
The idea that I might actually be able to sleep was a complete joke. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking by avoiding the conversation last night. Waiting and putting it off has only made my mind whirl a million miles an hour all night, bringing my mental state to the edge of crumbling.
After hours of tossing and turning, I crawled from my bed at the first sign of daylight peeking through the curtains. I drove over to the clubhouse, only to find it practically empty. It was too early, and the remnants from the party last night were still scattered in a mess around the room.
“Is Fifty around?” I had asked Timmy, the only person who seemed to be standing and at least appearing to be half awake.
“Sorry, Jade. I never saw him last night. I assumed he was with you,” he had grinned back.
“No… He, uh…he told me that he was coming back here,” I whispered and my eyes fell on the heavy black door filling the opposite wall. On New Year’s Eve, I had heard stories about that room and what goes on behind those doors. “He’s not in there, is he?” I questioned, as my hands began to shake and I fought to hold back tears.
“Hey, it’ll be okay. Take a breath and I’ll go check his room,” he had tried his hardest to console me, but I knew as soon as he rounded the corner with his head hanging, that Fifty never came home last night.
???
I had hoped a steaming hot shower would calm my throbbing head after returning to my apartment, but relief never came. Reaching into the medicine cabinet, I pull out the trusty bottle of Tylenol. After popping the top and spilling two small white tablets into my palm, I head into the kitchen for a glass of something cold.
It’s still early, and while I’d love to reach for something stronger, I opt to fill my glass with water. I drop the pills on my tongue and take a large swallow, easily washing them down as I wish my headache away. As I set the glass down on the counter, a small tap at the door easily gets my attention.
It has to be him.
I move quickly, reaching for the knob and wrenching it open with more force than intended. But instead of Fifty’s large looming frame, I find my parents standing in the hallway.
“How…how did you know where I live?” I stutter.
“Really, honey? We’ve known where you’ve been since you left. Did you really think we weren’t keeping an eye on you?” my father asks with a wink.
“Uh…come in, I guess,” I offer, stepping aside and opening the door a little wider so they can pass through.
“This place is…nice,” my mom clearly lies through her teeth as her eyes move rapidly around my tiny apartment.
“I haven’t made any coffee yet, but I have water,” I offer.
“No, we’re good. Actually, we were hoping you’d consider joining us for breakfast,” Mom says.
“I’m not sure,” I start, but my dad waves his hand in the air.
“Oh, come on. We haven’t seen you in years and we’ve got news to share. Ali is getting married. We thought you could come home and be a part of the wedding,” Dad drops the real reason for this sudden visit and I can’t stop the rough laugh that parts my lips.
“Do you really want me there for the wedding, or just for the family photos?” I question and Mom’s eyes go wide, instantly glistening.
“We were thinking that maybe it could be a fresh start,” her voice sounds small.
“Mom, I didn’t mean to,” I offer, but I can’t finish before she cuts me off.
“Yes, you did. Your dad and I aren’t blind to how it was before you left. But believe it or not, we’ve also done some growing up since you left. Come to breakfast, and we can talk about it,” she pleads.