Use Me (Caldwell Brothers)

Funny. Since Tatum has been in my life, I find myself doing a lot of things I never did more and more.

“What can we get ya, sugar?” Sally, the bartender according to her name tag, asks with a smile as I look at the man on the bar stool beside me, taking a pull off his draft.

“Something strong.”

“You’re a big man to be expecting anything in a bottle to kick your ass,” the man beside me mutters.

“What do you know about it?” I ask as Sally slides a glass in front of me. “Make it a double next round.”

“You get kicked out of the gym today?” the man asks.

I realize this is Jared, the man who officiated Jagger and Tatiana’s wedding.

“No,” I answer, tossing back the amber liquid that burns all the way down.

“You get kicked out of many restaurants?” he asks with straight face.

I immediately feel defensive. “Why? Do I need a stamp that says felon?”

He laughs. “No, you goon. You’re carryin’ a six pack and two guns.”

I don’t get what’s so funny. I look at my sides. I don’t have a six pack and two guns.

Sally sets the second drink in front of me. “Jared, honey, gotta let the man get a few rounds down first. He doesn’t get the muscle jokes yet.”

I find myself smiling as I think six pack and two guns being my muscles.

“Relax a little. Life’s too short to be so serious,” Jared says before raising his glass and tipping it back.

The man, Jared, is pretty damn funny, and I get caught up in his shit spewing to Jagger’s brother, Hendrix, and his pregnant wife.

The pregnant wife thing fucks with me. I am no longer just hanging out and having a good time. I am looking at a woman carrying a child, who is radiant, glowing, and her husband looks at her with nothing but love and adoration.

I swallow back another drink, trying to make the thoughts fucking with my head go away, but I can’t help thinking about the pictures now in my room. The ones of my family, my mother, my father, my sister—all fucking gone.

Every-fucking-thing I touch dies. Everything that matters.

Hendrix’s wife, Livi, rubs her belly and whispers something to him. Both look at me, and then she smiles at him and nods. He shakes his head, and she whispers again, and again they look at me. It makes me uncomfortable.

“Chill, Kid,” Hendrix says. “My wife thinks you need a dog.”

“Excuse me?”

“Gotta dog that needs a home.”

“I’m not interested,” I grumble as I look down at my phone lighting up.

Four missed calls and two messages. The last one says, “Just tell me if you’re okay. Tatum.”

“The fuck does it matter?” I mumble as I toss back the rest of the drink and push back my stool. I hold the edge of the bar to steady myself as I stand. “Bathroom?”

Jared, Sally, Livi, and Hendrix all point in the same direction.

Somehow, I manage to get to the bathroom, piss, and not on myself. Then I make my way back out, finding the place looks busier than I remember before taking a piss. Or maybe I’m just paying a little bit more attention than I was before. Either way, it’s getting a little fucking crowded for my liking.

Once back at my spot, I push the glass forward. “One more.”

I watch Sally look at Hendrix, who nods. “On the house.”

Someone sits next to me. I have no clue who. Give no fucks, either.

I get another text message and grumble before picking up the phone.

“Unreal,” I hear, and now I know who is sitting next to me.

I look over to see her shaking her head. Even drunk, I can clearly read her face. She’s hurt, confused, and angry.

“What?” I ask.

“I didn’t know where you were. You didn’t answer, Angelo. I was worried.”

I can’t take it. I can’t take that she feels the same things I’m feeling. Nothing fucking good will come of this. Not one damn thing.

When I don’t say anything, she shakes her head and repeats, “Unreal.”

“Is it fucking unreal?” I stand, pushing the barstool back and causing it to tip over.

“Fuck you,” she whispers. “Fuck you for...”

“For what?” Unable to look into her eyes and see the hurt I’m causing, but knowing I can’t do this shit anymore, I tell her, “I’m done.”

“You’re what?” She pokes me in the chest, and only then do I realize the scene playing out around me.

Jared and Hendrix are at my sides, looking ready to pounce.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask Jared.

“Shit’s gonna fucking hurt, you fucking ox, but you ain’t putting your hands on the lady ’cause your ass is drunk.”

Shocked that he would think that, I look at Hendrix and see the same damn thing.

I need to leave.

“You’re right; I’m a fucking killer.” I look at Tatum as I grab my jacket. “This is done. Good luck.”