Bounty (32 page)

T
he news
of his father hit Joel like a roundhouse kick to the head, momentarily making him forget his anger at Amber's betrayal of his privacy. Darryl was dead? He didn't believe it.

"What are you talking about?" he asked slowly. His body was rigid as he stood there, and he realized that his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. He loosened them and took a deep breath to steady himself. Amber was drunk, she probably didn't know what she was talking about. How would she even know how to find his parents, anyway?

Tears were falling from her eyes and she stepped forward again, now that he wasn't making fists, and grabbed one of his hands, pulling it close to her chest. "Oh Joel, I'm so sorry. I wasn't sure if you knew. I know I shouldn't have been looking them up but Simon was saying that I didn't know anything about you and that he could just look them up quickly and-"

"What did you find," he asked, cutting off her drunken rambling. He was losing patience with her and he pulled his hand back.

She paused, looking down at the hand he had yanked away like it was a snake that had just struck her and retreated. He instantly felt guilty but pushed that emotion aside. She was the one who should feel guilty for betraying his trust.

"Simon found his obituary in an old newspaper archive online. At first I didn't know it if it was him, but it mentioned your mother Linda, by name. But then they didn't say anything about you in it so we looked a little further and-"

"How?" he snapped. It surprised him more that there had been an obituary in the newspaper at all than the fact that he wasn't mentioned. Then again, his mother always seemed to have some sick sense of devotion to that malicious fuck, so maybe that was her way of giving him a respectful send off. He couldn't imagine who would have cared though, neither of them really had any close friends.

"A car accident, he was... well, I don't know if it was true but-"

"Drunk?" he finished for her. That sounded like his father alright.

Amber just nodded, her big eyes looking warily at him, likely waiting for some sort of breakdown or reaction. If she was expecting an explosion of tears, she'd be disappointed. He felt angrier than anything. But why? 
I've wished that fuck was dead more times than I can count, why should I be angry that it's finally true?

"When was this?"

"Last summer," she said. Her voice was just a whisper now. She still watched him, but made no more moves to touch him or approach.

Joel realized his hands were back into tight balls, pressed against his hips. The blood in his veins raced through him, pulling tension and fury to each of his extremities. He still had no idea why this news filled him with so much rage. Unable to determine the true source, he finally settled on focusing on Amber's betrayal as a surrogate.

"You had no right to invade my privacy," he said through his teeth. His past was his and his alone. He wasn't proud of it, and he never chose to share any more of it than he had to with anyone. The fact that Amber and some stranger had dug around in some computer looking up details of his life filled him with apprehension. His parents had never had any sort of computer growing up, and his school only had them in the library. Shelters were more concerned with food and beds than technology. Computers were an unknown entity to him. He hadn't ever imagined they could also be used to delve into his personal history and spill his secrets.

"Joel, I'm so sorry about your father..."

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, his rage flaring out as he sneered at her. "You think I give two shits that that sick fuck is dead? Didn't your fucking computer tell you how Darryl used to beat the shit out of my mother and me? Didn't it tell you how they kicked me out as soon as I was 18 with just the clothes on my back, happy to finally get rid of me?"

"No!" Amber cried out. "Joel, I'm sorry. I had no idea. We just saw the news about your parents and I thought you should know."

Joel felt his face get hot as he realized it was his own admission now that was revealing the shame of his past, but he pushed past it. Amber needed to hear these things, needed to know that he was unlovable, even to his parents. She was too good a person to get wrapped up in his life.

"Well, now you know. I learned to fight because of him. I learned how to take a punch, and how to deal with pain. Maybe I at least have that to thank him for. He also taught me that no one can be trusted." He glared in Amber's direction. "That's one lesson I should have paid more attention to."

"Joel-"

"I don't want to hear it!" he growled. The look on his face made Amber take a step back, causing an instant blast of remorse to well up in his stomach. He swallowed that feeling back as well. "Coming back here was a mistake," he said, a bit softer this time. He shook his head as he looked around the little apartment, purposely avoiding eye contact with Amber. If he saw her tears, he might soften the decisions that were forming in his mind.

This was no place for him. Amber was too naive. They had nothing in common. She didn't 
get
 him, and she never would. He'd been alone for years, and that's the way he needed to stay. Otherwise someone would get hurt. And he cared too much about Amber to let that someone be her.

"I don't know if this relationship is the best idea," he said. He stared at the floor between them as he spoke.

"What do you mean?" Amber's voice was quivering.

"I'm worried you're going to get hurt."

"Don't you think that risk is mine to take?" she replied, her voice taking on a more defiant tone.

He lifted his eyes from the floor to meet her gaze. She was glaring at him, her eyes red from alcohol and tears.

"Are you worried about me, or yourself?" she asked.

He frowned at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're Mr. Fight Club," she said, borrowing Simon's nickname. "You can take a punch or get your head slammed into a brick wall and shrug everything off. But when it comes time to stick your neck out emotionally, you run away scared. Every fucking time."

"That's bullshit. I just don't want to feel responsible when this whole relationship comes crashing down. Because it will. That's what always happens."

"Blah, blah. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Joel," she said. She put a hand on her hip and was leaning forward but he noticed her other hand holding onto the couch to keep her steady. "You've had a hard life. I get it. Your parents were assholes, I get it. But when are you going to stop using that as an excuse to keep from getting on with your life? Stop living under the shadow of your past!"

"You don't know anything about me," he spat.

"I know!" she said, her voice rising an octave as she practically shook. "Because you won't fucking tell me anything! So yes, I had to go look it up for myself. Forgive me for giving a shit about my boyfriend and wanting to know more about him!"

Boyfriend? That wasn't something they had discussed, and he could see in her eyes as she said it that it was a slip of the tongue. But she didn't pause for long.

"I'm just saying, when two people are together they share things about their lives, Joel. You know way more about me than I know about you. Like the fact that I dream of being a nurse, but probably never will because I'll never be able to afford it working at a shitty bar job. Hell, I can't even afford a stethoscope. But at least I've told you my dreams. I've told you things about me that I've never told anyone. What have you told me, Joel? That your parents died a long time ago? I thought that was something. Turns out that was just a lie so that you wouldn't have to open up about them.

"So go ahead," she turned her body, moving herself out from between him and the door. "There's the door. Run away like you always do. Just don't expect that I'm going to be here every time to take you back. I'm getting tired of this shit. I want a commitment, Joel. I want some stability. And I think that would help you, too."

His eyes met hers and the two of them stared in silence at each other. "Fine," he said. Breaking their visual standoff, he walked past her without another glance and left.

She doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about anyway.

T
he sun streaming
in from between the blinds sliced through Amber's eyelids and drilled into her brain, making it feel like it was splitting in half. With one heavy arm, she pulled her bed sheet over her head in an effort to shield herself, but the pain lessened only slightly.

What the fuck?

It took her longer than it should have to remember that she was hung over and not, in fact, in the middle of a brain aneurysm. Slowly, as she lay hidden in the humidity under the thin layer of cotton, the events of the night before began to seep back into her mind like a slow IV drip. Thoughts of Simon and drinking came first. Something about Karaoke. Waking up in a cab.

Joel.

The pounding of her chest grew as the details of their fight flooded back, the drip now becoming a torrent. He had come back to apologize and somehow she had let her little covert op with Simon slip out. And then she'd called him her boyfriend. She winced at that, but not half as much as when she remembered trying to bluff him into staying. She'd never been a very good poker player, and Joel had called her, walking out into the night once again.

She went over the events in her head again, more of the details filling in as the fogginess of the night was pushed away by adrenaline. She'd said things to Joel that she should have kept to herself. Things she'd been thinking lately, but never would have uttered if it hadn't been for the Jägermeister truth serum running through her veins.

Now who knows what would happen. Would he ever come back again? Should she go out looking for him and apologize? He was probably at the Rock House, or would head to a shelter near there for the night. He wanted privacy though. Wasn't that what the whole fight had been about? No, if he was going to come back it needed to be on his own. And she would just have to wait and see if he did.

She flipped the covers back over her head, releasing the trapped and stale air as cooler air from the apartment washed over her. The contrast was almost enough to let her imagine her air conditioner was working again, at least for the few seconds until she adjusted to the new temperature and started to feel hot again.

She rolled out of bed and pulled off her sweaty clothes as she headed for a shower. If she was going to accuse Joel of feeling sorry for himself, she should make sure she wasn't also guilty of it. She needed to take her mind off him and their issues for a little while, at least until it was time to go back to the bar. The fast paced and noisy environment there would definitely keep her from obsessing.

She veered off course and into the living room, picking up her phone and quickly dialing.

"Room 114 please," she said to the woman who answered. She waited patiently to be connected until she heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"Hi Nana," she said, raising her voice in case the older woman wasn't wearing her hearing aid. She tended not to wear it when she wasn't expecting company.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"It's Amber, Nana."

"Who?"

"Amber. Judith's daughter."

"Judy? Is that you?"

"No, it's Amber," she sighed. "Can I come for a visit today?"

"Of course, Judy dear. I'd love to see you. Is your brother coming as well?"

"No, just me," she said. "I'll be there in an hour."

"Okay dear."

She hung up the phone with a heaviness in her chest as she walked back to the bathroom and turned on the water. Her maternal grandmother had lived with her and her parents from the time Amber was 12, helping to raise her just as puberty was starting to confuse her world. Nana had always been a more calming and balanced presence than her own mother, her easy-going attitude a sharp contrast to her mother's exacting expectations. Her father had largely stayed out of most things, siding with her mother whenever he was put on the spot.

But then Alzheimer's had started when Amber was 15. At first, they didn't really notice it. Nana was in her seventies so it was normal that she would forget things. But then it got worse, and she started to mix people up or to find them completely unfamiliar - often forgetting Amber entirely or confusing her with her mother Judith. Soon she was disoriented and confused more often than not.

When Amber was 16, her grandmother fell down the stairs, breaking her hip. She never fully recovered from that, and needed a wheelchair from then on. It fell to Amber to take care of her at nights while her parents worked, having shifted their jobs around so that they were more available during the day while she was at school. She would help feed and bath her, show her pictures of the family and try to help her remember. Mostly she just spent time with her. It was during that time that she realized how much she enjoyed helping people, and considered becoming a nurse.

But after high school, her family didn't have much money since they had spent a lot of it on medical bills. Her father died of a heart attack when she was 18, and her mother ended up losing her job at around the same time. She was able to find another one pretty quickly, but it wasn't as flexible with the hours, even though it paid more. That meant that she wouldn't be around during the day, so Amber gave up on the idea of college altogether and got a job at the bar so she would be available for Nana until her mother came home.

Within a year, though, Nana had deteriorated too far, and was beyond her ability to care for properly. They'd had to move her into a home. When she left, so did Amber.

It had been too long since she'd been for a visit. It would be the perfect thing to get her mind off of Joel.