On Dublin Street (On Dublin Street 1)

Blazing through the last few months, burying my head in the sand, pretending there weren’t consequences to loving people, had gotten me where I was. Only six months of making the change into the ‘new me’ and the floor had been ripped out from underneath me again.

That was selfish.

I knew that.

Ellie was the one suffering here, not me.

But that wasn’t true either.

Ellie Carmichael was one of a kind. She was sweet, kind, sort of goofy, funny, big-hearted… and my family. The first family I’d had since losing my own. I felt protective of her, I hurt when she hurt, I thought about her happiness, and what I could to do to help her get whatever would make her happy. Not even my relationship with Rhian had been as close.

I was almost as close with Ellie as I had been with Dru.

And now I was going to lose Ellie as well.

I sunk down to the ice-cold stone ground beside the cannon and wrapped my arms around my body in an effort to choke out the pain. It occurred to me that if I rewrote it all in my head, then maybe I wouldn’t feel this way. Maybe, Ellie and I weren’t that close. Maybe we never had been. If that were true, then losing her would be okay.

I jumped suddenly at the sound of my cell ringing. Stomach leaden with dread, I pulled it out and exhaled in relief when I saw it was Rhian calling.

“Hey,” I answered hoarsely.

“Yo, bitch,” Rhian called down the line, sounding surprisingly chipper. “How’s it hanging? I’m just calling to let you know that James and I are flying into Edinburgh in three days and then heading through to Falkirk to stay with his mum over Christmas. We’re going to nip into see you before we get the train, so I need your address, hon.”

Awful timing. “Things are kind of weird at the apartment at the moment. Can I meet you for coffee instead?”

“Jesus, Joss, you sound like hell. Is everything okay?”

I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. “I’ll explain when I see you. Coffee?”

“Yeah, okay,” she still sounded worried, “The coffee shop in the bookstore on Princes Street. Three o’ Clock, Monday.”

“See you then.” I hung up, my eyes scanning the view and then travelling upwards into the white clouds with their pale bellies and grumpy faces. It was just a vast array of weightless, floating fluff. Their bellies weren’t dark or heavy.

Without the weight, there was no rain.

***

Jo grabbed me before I could take my next customer’s order and she tugged me all the way back into the staff room. Her hands flew to her hips, her eyebrows drawn together. “You’re acting really weird.”

I shrugged, enjoying the blanket of numbness I’d found and promptly wrapped around myself. “I’m just tired.”

“No.” Jo took a step forward, her face etched with concern. “There’s something going on here with you, Joss. Look, I know we’re not really close, but you’ve always been there for me when I go on and on about my problems, so if you need to talk to me, I’m here.”

I don’t want you to be there for me. “I’m fine.”

She shook her head. “You’ve got this, like, dead look in your eyes, Joss. You’re scaring the crap out of me and Craig. Has something happened? Did something happen with Braden?”

No. And it’s not going to. “No.”

“Joss?”

“Jo, it’s really busy out there, can we not do this?”

She flinched and then bit her lip uneasily. “Okay.”

I nodded and spun on my heel, heading back into the bar to get on with it. I saw Jo sidle up to Craig and whisper something to him. His head whipped around to stare at me.

“Joss, what the f**k is going on with you, sweetheart?”

I flipped him off as an answer.

Craig shot Jo a look. “I don’t think she wants to talk about it.”

***

To my utter shock, Braden was waiting outside of Club 39 for me. My shift had whipped by in a blur. I couldn’t even remember doing anything, so it took me a moment to come out of the fog and recognize him. He stood leaning against the wrought-iron railing, unshaved, staring down at the ground in grim contemplation, his hands shoved into the pockets of his smart, double-breasted wool coat. He turned as I stepped up onto the sidewalk and I almost flinched at the sight of him. His hair was more unkempt than usual, his eyes dark and bloodshot.

For a moment, I almost forgot that everything we’d had these last few months no longer existed. It was buried under the steel trap door. I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning up at him. “Shouldn’t you be with Ellie?”

Braden’s gaze was probing as he looked down at me. My heart hurt. He looked so young and vulnerable. I didn’t like seeing him like that. “I gave her a little whiskey. She cried herself to sleep. I thought I’d come get you.”

“You should have stayed with her.” I made to walk past him and he grabbed my arm tight, almost painfully, hauling me to a stop.

When I looked up at him, he looked less vulnerable and more pissed off. This was a Braden I recognized, and strangely, felt easier dealing with. “Like you should have stayed this afternoon?”

“I had stuff to do,” I replied blankly.

His eyes narrowed as he pulled my body into his. Like always I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “You had stuff to do?” he asked in furious disbelief. “You had a f**king friend who needed you. What the hell was that, Jocelyn?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head slowly. “Don’t,” he whispered hoarsely, dipping his head so our noses were almost touching. “Don’t do this. Not now. Whatever shit your spinning in that head of yours, stop. She needs you, babe.” He swallowed hard, his eyes glimmering in the streetlights. “I need you.”