One Big Mistake - Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,50

fled the room.

Ramsey moved to run after her, but someone caught hold of his arm. Ramsey whirled around, finding himself face to face with Daddy.

“Let her go, son,” Knox ordered.

Anger rose hot and furious in Ramsey’s chest. “This is all your fault!”

Knox pushed out a breath. “About what I said.”

“You had no right,” Ramsey thundered. It had been a long, lonely path, but he’d finally found the one. And then Daddy ripped it all away.

Knox’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, I have a right to state my opinion. I’m your dad!”

Ramsey was furious enough to chew through metal.

“She’s no good for you,” Knox insisted, his jaw razor sharp. His voice was low and urgent. “I stayed quiet before, watched her rip Cash’s heart out and stomp it into the ground.” His eyes flashed with a steely resolve. “I won’t do that again.” He lifted his chin. “Like I’ve told you before, that girl is quicksand. She’ll take you under, just like she did Cash.”

“As I told you before, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ramsey seethed.

“She’s an alcoholic.”

“A recovering alcoholic!” Ramsey heaved out, his voice rising. “She hasn’t had a drop in years. That bit about once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic is a load of crap.”

“I know you want to believe that, but you’re wrong, son.” The pity on Daddy’s face sent Ramsey’s anger soaring to new heights. “Let’s go outside and talk about this,” Daddy said quietly. “So we won’t cause a scene.”

Ramsey jerked his arm out of Daddy’s grasp. “I’m done talking!” He marched away, intent on finding Hartley as soon as possible so he could undo the damage.

Hartley cupped the glass with both hands, staring unseeingly into the depths of the amber liquid. Clutching her purse for all it was worth, she’d run out of the gallery and caught a cab to the nearest bar. Knox’s words kept searing through her brain. You and I both know that it’ll never work with you and Ramsey. You’ll destroy him, like you tried to destroy Cash. If you have any feelings for my son, you’ll walk away.

The whiskey in the glass called to her. It rose up like a taunting snake that slithered around, filling her entire body with an all-consuming need. A drink would help dull the pain stabbing through her heart. She needed to forget that for one brief stretch of time she’d been loved and cherished by an incredible man who’d looked beyond her checkered past and seen the real her. She had changed. But that didn’t mean anything to Knox and Birdie Romeo. To them, she’d always be a worthless alcoholic.

“Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic,” she muttered. A prayer rose in her heart. Help me! A second later, she snuffed out the fragile flicker of hope, dousing it with a bucket full of self-loathing so that it could never rise again. What was the use of trying to be better? Her dad was a lost cause, and Hartley was just like him. Tears rose in her eyes, but she pushed them back. She refused to shed another tear.

She lifted the glass to her lips. How easy it would be to just drink the infernal liquid. Time came to a screeching halt. She was suspended between her resolve and her addiction. No, she wouldn’t—couldn’t go down this road again. Ever so slowly, she put the glass down and pushed it away. The relief she felt was palpable. Victory flushed over her and then came a flood of peace. Thank you, her mind uttered as she looked heavenward. She knew in that moment that she wasn’t alone.

“Rough night?”

The sneer in the man’s voice came at her like a fingernail scratching down a chalkboard as she whipped around. Her eyes bulged when she realized who was sitting beside her.

“Go away!” she demanded.

The man laughed. “You’re a lousy drunk.”

She lifted her chin. “I’ve never been more sober in my life.”

He raised his glass to her. “Cheers,” he said as he chugged down several swigs.

“What’re you doing here?”

A derisive laugh riddled Blake’s throat as he slammed his glass down, sloshing the liquid over his hand. “The question is … what’re you doing here?” He pointed to the whiskey. “Sober, huh? I thought you didn’t drink anymore.”

“I don’t,” she retorted.

“Obviously,” he said sarcastically.

She bunched her brows. “Did you follow me here?”

He grunted. “What do you think?”

Anger crowded a tight circle around her heart. Then came a blip of fear. The police had questioned Blake Owens. He had an alibi