Grace for Drowning

"Wow, it is you. What a coincidence." He stared expectantly for a few seconds. "You don't remember me?"

I thought back. Everyone I knew here was a friend of Tom's and, aside from the occasional token drop in shortly after he died, I hadn't seen any of them in months, but after a few seconds, I came up with a name.

"Jared," I said.

He smiled. "Got it." We'd only met a handful of times. He wasn't really a friend of Tom's so much as just a floating acquaintance in their extended circle, one of those all too common Vegas hustlers who can never quite define where they make their money. He'd always given me a bad vibe. His darting eyes and narrow features reminded me of a weasel, and I got the impression he was only hanging around Tom's group because he viewed them as potential marks. But according to Tom he was good company, and he was tight with some of the other guys, so they let him stay.

He looked worse now than when I'd last seen him. Sunken cheeks, pale skin, bones poking out everywhere. As he fidgeted with his arm, I caught sight of several track marks just below the elbow; puckered little punctures that spoke of more than just the occasional dabble with a needle. Just what I needed.

I

considered simply having Logan throw him out, but depending on whether he was actually high right now or not, that could get messy very quickly. Besides, he hadn't actually done anything wrong yet, so instead I threw up my best "tolerant bartender" smile and prayed he'd leave quickly. "Good to see you again. Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure. Coors, thanks." He threw one arm down on the bar. "You know, this is really convenient running into you. Been out of town for a few months, taking care of some stuff back in Denver, you know? Just got back yesterday. Was planning on coming to check in on Tommy boy when I had a moment."

My hands faltered on the beer tap. I thought that when it came to Tom's death the grapevine had done its work, but apparently some people had slipped through the cracks. My chest tightened and I closed my eyes. This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have, not here, not now, but it seemed like I didn't have a choice. The alternative was to have this junkie show up at my place in a couple of days' time, looking for Tom, and I wouldn't have the benefit of Logan and a room full of people for protection then.

"Tom's dead," I said, a little more harshly than I was intending.

His eyes widened. "Seriously?"

I nodded.

"Shit. I'm real sorry. I mean...shit."

I drew a few ragged breaths. I wanted to cry. It was stupid, just saying those words shouldn't have had that kind of effect on me, but it did. Apart from Joy, I realized I hadn't told anyone about Tom's death since the day it happened. I'd considered calling my parents a few times, but I wasn't exactly on the best terms with them. It had been over a year since we'd talked, and even if they would hear me out, I couldn't stomach the idea of giving them an excuse to say "I told you so."

"That about sums it up," I replied.

Despite his words, the compassion was already fading from his face. "That must have been awful for you." He licked his lips. "I don't suppose he said anything about me, you know, before it happened?"

I blinked in confusion. "What? What would he have said?"

He begun wringing his hands. "It's just — and I hate to bring up business at a time like this — but he owed me a little cash, you know? Football bets and the like."

I was struck by this immense sense of vertigo, like I was falling down an endless tunnel. I couldn't believe this was happening. Tom was dead, and all this creep could think about was his debts? Even here, the world seemed to want to remind me of what I'd been so blind to before. It felt like it was going to haunt me forever. "Are you serious?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I didn't mean no offense. I'm just going through a rough patch, you know? Thought maybe he left a little something. The debt was a few grand, but even a couple of hundred would..." he trailed off as Logan appeared behind him.

"If you're not out that door in three seconds, you're going to regret it." I'd never heard him sound so cold, so dangerous. One look at his face told me he was seconds away from exploding.

Jared didn't take long to make the same assessment. He visibly wilted under Logan's shadow. "Sorry. Sorry. Forget it."

As he turned to leave, Logan spoke again. "And don't you even think of speaking to her again."

Jared nodded quickly, then made a beeline for the exit.

The threat was gone, but the damage was done. It was too much. I needed some space. Before Logan could say anything else, I was fleeing out to the back alley. He followed, of course.

"I'm okay," I said, leaning heavily against the wall. "I just need a minute."

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Just some friend of Tom's," I replied, without really thinking. Great job, Grace.

"You mean your ex?" he asked cautiously.

Well, there was no taking it back now. I nodded wearily.