Page 74 of Fever Dream
My brows furrow. “Want me to get something else? I don’t need to.”
“No, no.” She waves me off, propping her arms on the table to inspect the dingy bar. She looks like a sunny spot in her dim surroundings. Shimmering brightness in a dark room. “It’s not like that. I just…” She trails off, licking her lips.
I can see the wheels turning in her head as she weighs her next words. Urging her to talk would be like spurring a bull at the wrong moment, and I know better than to do that.
Her round dark eyes meet mine, a tightness at their corners. “The allure of drinking socially since the cruise has been lost on me. You know?”
“How so?”
“It’s like…” She trails off and covers with a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “I just don’t want to make bad choices under the influence. I don’t want to feel that out of control again.”
“You didn’t—”
She holds a hand up to stop me, her explanation coming fast, almost sounding guilty. “I know, I know. I considered that someone could roofie a Sprite too. I get it. But now, brand-name Rohypnol turns a drink blue when dissolved, so at least in a light-colored drink…” Another one-sided shrug. And my heart fucking breaks. It’s been over two years, and she’s still carrying that night with her.
“Jules. You didn’t make any bad choices. That’s what I was going to say.”
She blinks.
“You did nothing wrong that night.”
Her lips part, a ragged breath escaping between them as her slender fingers knit together. “We don’t have to talk about that.”
I lean forward, prop my elbows on the table, and drop the volume of my voice as the country music blares around us. “I will talk about that night anytime you feel ready. I will clarify any details you want. And I will tell you over and over again that you are not responsible for anything that happened.”
“Well, I could have—”
“Nah. No. No way. That guy is a piece of shit and a criminal. End of story. No excuses. Lock him up and throw away the key.”
She regards me carefully. “He’s doing some prison time for possession. At least, that’s the last I saw. I stopped looking him up after a while.”
“I didn’t. He got ten years. And he cried like a baby when they sentenced him.”
Now all I get are confused blinks. “How do you know that?”
My tongue presses into my cheek. This was never something I planned on telling her, and I certainly didn’t do it to make myself out as a do-gooder hero. But I also can’t lie to the woman sitting across from me. Not knowing what I know now—how deeply this has continued to affect her.
“I testified. And I went to his sentencing. They take drug charges seriously in Florida. And that fucker could clearly afford a good lawyer to—”
“You went there?”
“What can I say? I’m a petty little bitch. And I was on the road near there anyway.”
Okay,nearis relative. I’d been in the States. Boise, to be exact, which isn’t remotely close to Miami. But I’d only missed one tour date to make it there—something Carl had lost his mind over. Which wasn’t anything new. I’d endured his explosion and carried on without sparing him a single thought.
Rhett and Theo cracking jokes about me going on a bender? Don’t care.
It was just something Ineededto do. It was closure.
Julia straightens across from me. Her shoulders shimmy, and she lifts her chin. It’s hard to tell over the noise in the loud bar, but I think she sniffs just once, wiggling her nose and glancing away with glassy eyes.
The server plops our drinks on the table and leaves without another word. No one comes here for first-class service. If she were friendly, I’d be disappointed in the experience. It’s why I like The Sugar Saloon—no one here is pretending to be something they’re not.
“You’re not as bad as everyone makes you out to be, you know that?” Julia finally announces, looking back at me with clear eyes this time. Like she flipped a switch from vulnerable to tough as nails in one go.
I bark out a laugh before deadpanning, “Please, Jules. I can’t have you running around ruining my reputation.”
She chuckles and gives her nose a quick wipe, shaking her head in disbelief. A series of whoops rings out around us as “Cadillac Ranch” blares through the speakers. Julia perks up as she watches other patrons flood the small dance floor.
