I toss my cigarette, already marching toward her.
Jesse pushes the door closed, then kneels beside Mel.
The door swings open again, and Tank sticks his head out. He says something to Jesse. “It’s okay,” Jesse assures him, waving him back inside. “I’ll take care of her. Just a rough night.”
As I get closer, Tank eyes me with a squinted gaze, then another member of the MC pops up beside him. Jesse glances at me quickly before nodding to his friends, and they disappear back into the bar.
Jesse moves his head closer to Mel’s and whispers in her ear. She shakes her head. “It’s over. It’s never going to be the same. All this…” She motions sloppily around. “We can’t have it back, Jess. Over. Gone. Oblivion.”
Her words are tumbling out with her sobs. Shit. She’s really messed up. How long was she gone? Five…ten…fifteen minutes? While I was out here pouting. I curse under my breath as I kneel beside her. I never should have left her.
“Mel, let’s go.” I quickly check one of her hands, noting the scratches, brush off the loose debris and concrete rubble, and pull her arm around my waist. I tuck a hand under her other arm and begin to lift.
“What the fuck?” Jesse’s on his feet and staring me down. “You’re not taking her anywhere.”
I’m one short second away from losing all self-control. I get Melody to her feet, her weak body leaning into mine. Her head sways awkwardly on her shoulders. If this guy sucker punches me with her in my arms, it’s the last action he’ll do tonight before I end him.
Looking into his dark, glassy eyes, I say, “She’s done, man. I’m just taking her to her apartment. I think she needs to sleep it off—pick up with you when her head’s on straight, right?”
His brow furrows, hands fisted, arms flexed. “I’m telling you, this does not concern you. You’re just one of many and I’ve been here, will be here, when you’re a speck in the rearview mirror.” He wiggles his fingers in front of his face, smiling, eyes ablaze.
And I realize he’s fucked up. I mean, not coherent, talking way out there fucked up. Meth, maybe. Or MDMA. Fear seizes my chest as I pull Mel closer to my side.
“What did you give her?” I demand.
“She needed to forget this shit for a while. I just needed her to hear me…” He runs a hand through his slick hair. “Just to listen. Mel.” He weaves his head, trying to gain her attention. “Tell him how we are together. How we reach that plateau, baby.”
Mel struggles to right her head and look at Jesse. “How we were,” she slurs. Then shakes her head. “It’s all shit without Dar. You know that.”
Jessie’s head jerks back like he’s been slapped. “I loved Darla. You know that what happened…it was an accident, Mel. You have no idea how shitty I fucking feel, baby.”
The picture about what happened to land Melody in rehab is starting to become clearer. But I’m not sure I want the whole story. My stomach is sinking with each admission between these two, and a wave of sickness crashes over me. Like shitty history repeating itself.
“I told you no,” Mel mumbles. She’s staring at the ground, her gaze unfocused. “I told you no. If you would’ve listened, then that night wouldn’t have happened.” She shakes her head again. “No, if I wouldn’t have even been with you, it wouldn’t have happened. Dominoes. Dominoes.”
As she continues to mutter to herself, I’m eyeing Jesse with a new kind of hatred. “What the fuck is she talking about?”
That snaps Mel out of her trance, and she turns her head toward me, waving her hand. “Wait. It’s not like that—”
But I’m asking Jesse again. “What is she saying?”
Regaining his composure, Jesse rolls his shoulders. Cocks his chin. “It’s none of your business.” He reaches for Mel, grasping her arm. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Come on.”
She pulls away, closer into me. “I’m not that fucked up! I know what happened that night, and so do you.” Though she’s wavering, she focuses a hard glare on Jesse that makes him back up a step.
My blood is lava. Ang
er is rippling through my veins, heating my insides, boiling over. If not for the half-lucid girl in my arms, I’d already be throwing down on Jesse. I can read between the lines—what Mel is trying to voice. And as that knowledge splits the seams of my brain, I’m moving her toward the sidewalk.
I try to set her down, but she places a hand on my chest. Looks up into my eyes. “Let’s just go.”
I grind my back teeth. My jaw aches from the pressure. Try to suppress the explosion getting ready to erupt, the rage triggering the need to connect flesh with flesh, inflict pain—feel pain. To make the noise stop.
My gaze steady on hers, I bite it back. She needs to get somewhere safe to come down. Focus on her. I turn us toward my bike and start walking.
“What the fuck,” Jesse says. “Really? All right, Mel. Christ, I’m sorry. I fucked up.”
Melody’s still stumbling alongside me, ignoring Jesse’s admission. I’m bottling my rage best I can.