Torn - Part Three (The Torn Series)
Read Torn - Part Three (The Torn Series) Online
Authors: Ellen Callahan
Ellen Callahan
This is part 3 of 4-part series. They are best read in order to follow the story. Check out the rest of the books today!
Copyright 2015, All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction; any names, places, and/or situations portrayed within are products of the author’s imagination; any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
This book contains mature content that is suitable for adults only.
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Prologue
October
I lied again. Did this make me a perpetual liar? I was beginning to worry that I had a problem but I didn’t know what it was. I just knew I had to escape.
I left alone the night after our band, the Mistresses of Mayhem, had only come in third in a Battle of the Bands competition. Part of me had longed for the comfort of Mallet’s arms. I was calling him “boyfriend” in my head - though not out loud yet - so why wouldn’t I have wanted to spend the night with him?
Another part of me wanted to get lost in a drunken fog. Mallet would have disapproved of me drinking all night and so I took the cab he hailed and instead of going home, as I promised I would, I went to the neighborhood bar where I worked, Picklebackers. I was still the newest staff member but I liked my coworkers and knew they’d be happy to ply me with drinks while they waited for their shifts to be over.
“Riley!” the two bartenders on duty shouted when I shuffled through the door. I grinned. Martin and Shawn were a young couple who lived together in Brooklyn. They’d seemed to take a liking to me, and I certainly liked them.
“Hey guys,” I said, making my way to an empty stool at the very end of the bar. Picklebackers was a quiet, beer-focused joint masquerading as a dive bar. It was small and dark but it was clean, and the graffiti that covered the walls had been artfully planned out.
Shawn poured me a half-pint and slid it down the bar. “Try that one,” he said, grinning, his soft brown eyes lighting up. “It’s from upstate.” It was going to be a long time before I knew anywhere near as much about beer as they did, but I was working on it. I sipped the golden liquid - a wheat ale, Shawn explained - and pressed them for gossip.
Martin continued serving customers while Shawn leaned over the bar to talk to me. “Well, supposedly Adele broke up with her boyfriend, but I think you already knew that. And we think Vanessa is sleeping with the owner again.”
I giggled, unable to picture how the freckled redhead could stand to be that close to the generously rotund owner of the bar. Not only because he was large, no - more because he was a grumpy jerk. Still, he was the one who’d hired me, so he couldn’t be all bad.
Shawn grimaced and asked, “So I guess if you’re here alone it means you didn’t win the battle.”
“Nope.” I took a long swallow of my beer to drown out the sinking feeling in my gut. “Jen - she’s the singer - she’s blaming it all on me. I wasn’t great but I didn’t think she was at the top of her game, either.”
“Did you guys have a fight?”
“Is it a fight if I don’t fight back?” I asked, and he shook his head. “I didn’t think she’d get so
mad.
It was just a dumb contest.”
“Oh, you know those showbiz types,” Shawn said, patting my arm. Martin signaled him over and he said, “Back to work! I’ll bring you another in a bit.”
I spent the rest of the night parked on that stool. The owner wouldn’t have approved but he’d taken the night off. Shawn and Martin attempted to school me on the different beers they brought over but after a time I stopped really listening. I had a good buzz going and could have stayed there until the sun came up.
We did a round of shots together when they finally closed up at 4am. “Cheers to the vampire life,” Martin said, waving an arm towards the window. The sun wouldn’t rise for another two hours.
“Cheers,” I repeated, downing my tiny glass of whiskey. It burned a delicious path to my stomach.
“You’re not gonna get on the train now, are you?” Martin asked. At the same time, Shawn said, “Want to keep the party going at our place?”
I did. I wanted to keep the party going forever. “Sure!” I looked to Martin. “I mean, if it’s cool with both of you?”
“Of course! Get your coat!”
I was unprepared for the chill in the air, unfortunately, so we walked up the street with me squashed between them, elbows hooked together like we were the trio from the Wizard of Oz. All we needed was a lion.
Their apartment was small but their decor was modern and trendy. It made me cringe to think of my own room - just a futon and a lamp and a couple framed photos I’d finally managed to nail to the bare walls. Something had to be done. Eventually.
“Love your place,” I said, taking a seat on the soft purple couch. I expected them to head for the kitchen and return with drinks, but instead they pulled out a tiny glass pipe. Martin sat on the floor and packed it at the coffee table while Shawn parked himself next to me on the couch. “Sorry, should have asked earlier,” he said, “I just assume everyone our age smokes. Do you?”
“You mean weed?” I blurted out, feeling dumb and sheltered and totally uncool. I’d been passed a joint a couple times in college but that was the extent of my experience.
Shawn laughed. “Yes,” he said, squeezing me in a quick side-hug. “Silly.”
“I have. A little.”
“Well then, have a little,” Martin said with a smile.
They had to show me how to use it, covering the tiny hole on the bowl part with their thumbs while I inhaled. And coughed. And coughed some more. They found it hilarious.
I felt twinges of guilt as the night wore on but I was too drunk and too high to acknowledge them. I liked my new friends. Martin with his dark, tousled hair and his quick wit and warm smile. Shawn with his bright eyes and boundless energy. Watching the two of them interact, looking around their apartment, I felt a pang of envy. I wanted what they had together.
I’d almost had it with my ex-boyfriend. Tyler. But he’d gone and fucked it up. And I didn’t know if I ever would have it with Mallet. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with his feelings on matters that didn’t involve his dick. That was unfair, though - I knew he cared about me. I just didn’t know what he wanted or where we were going and I wasn’t ready to ask. I didn’t even know the answers for myself.
“Riley?” Shawn snapped his fingers in my face and I shook myself out of my thoughts. Martin had settled onto the couch on my other side.
“Yeah? Sorry, I was just thinking.”
"Don't think. Just enjoy." He passed me the pipe once more.
I fell asleep there between them. It was nice to spend time with people who didn't want something from me - my musical talent, my body, or anything else. I fleetingly thought of Mallet as I dozed off. I'd make it up to him in the morning.
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I woke hours later awash with the guilt I'd barely acknowledged the night before. I had chosen to spend all night drinking and smoking with coworkers I barely knew over going home with the man who cared about me. What was my problem?
Whatever it was, I knew I had to tell him. I'd be totally honest - after the debacle with Tyler, I'd sworn to myself that I would be brutally honest from then on, even when it hurt, even when it was hard. Especially when it was hard.
I sent him a quick text - “hang out today?” before hunting for the bathroom. Martin and Shawn had peeled off my boots and covered me with a blanket before retiring to their bedroom. Based on their closed door, they were still asleep.
My smudged reflection blinked back at me in the mirror. My hair and makeup were a nightmare - I looked as awful as I felt.
Well, that’s the price of partying all night.
I cleaned up as best I could using the contents of my purse - the only useful items were a comb and a spare tube of mascara, but they helped. I wrote the boys a “thanks and see you later” note before heading for the door. Mallet had replied with a “hell yes,” so I hit the road and hoped I didn’t ruin his good mood too badly.
The boys’ apartment wasn’t far from mine so I was able to stop home for a quickie shower and makeup fix. And for clean clothes, considering I smelled like the floor of the bar. I actually had good timing catching the train for once and was on my way to Queens in no time at all.
I shielded my eyes as I stepped out of the subway station and into the sun. I didn’t want to admit how hungover I was, but the pounding in my head was only getting worse. Wishing I’d brought my sunglasses, I started forward only to hear someone call my name.
“Hey!” It was Mallet’s best friend, Surly. By lucky timing, I’d emerged from underground just as he was walking out of a nearby bakery with a bag of bagels.
Mmm. Bagels.
Nothing in the world sounded better in that moment.
“Hey, Surly,” I said, eying the bag. If he didn’t have extra then I was going to steal Mallet’s right out of his mouth.
He held up the brown paper bag, though, and said, “I’ve got one with your name on it.”
“You are my favorite person right now,” I said, laughing. I followed him up into their building, to the apartment he shared with Mallet and another fighter called Lockett.
I was utterly unprepared for the sight that greeted me when I passed through the doorway after Surly. Mallet and Jen were there on the couch, apparently watching television, though Jen was practically draped over Mallet’s bare chest. She wasn’t wearing pants or underwear - that much was clear from her position as her t-shirt rode up. She glanced in our direction and said to Mallet, loud enough for all to hear, “Surly knows that we’re fucking.”
“What?!” I hadn’t meant to shriek like that, but I was too tired and hungover to think anything through.
Mallet leapt to his feet with Jen right behind him, grabbing for his hand. He grabbed her arm first and held her away from him. “She’s lying. We aren’t doing anything. She’s fucking crazy.” He said the words too quickly and they bounced right off of me. All I saw was the two of them half-naked as her casual statement rang in my ears.
Surly knows that we’re fucking.
Surly himself stood just as frozen as me.