“I have some business to take care of before tomorrow, and I did want to talk, but now I don’t. You told me not to worry about it, right?”

He finishes his beer and tosses the burger wrapper in the trash. “Alright, man. You’re the boss. You okay here alone now that David’s no longer around, or do you want me to stay?”

“I don’t need a babysitter tonight, go hang out with Alyssa. Take a break from my family’s shit.”

“You need to do the same,” he laughs and sends a fist pump my way as he heads out. “And Cove, leave well enough alone. The fuckwad is dead, and you should sleep well knowing it was a suicide.”

I nod and lock the door behind him. I’m still in a t-shirt and jeans, and the door is cold as I lean back and rest my arms and upper body against it.

It’s a rare occasion that I’m here alone, and even rarer that I have the time to look over the room. I stare at the security camera above the bar, and then try and remember where we placed the other four. One’s in the back, I see another in the hallway leading to the private rooms, one at the front door, and there... another up in the balcony pointed toward my office.

I head up the stairs to a dim room. The only light comes from the bar area below and I find it meditative in a way. Dark and quiet.

Shit, Haverty really did install a heavy bag in the corner. It’s probably more for him than for me. I’ll bet he’ll be up here punching away at it every chance he can get. It spins and sways as I push it with my palms. Man, he went all out, the thing’s high-end, and he left a pair of bag gloves on my desk.

A pile of account orders glows under the light of my computer screen as I bring my desktop out of sleep mode. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve sat in this office and did any real work. Fucking loser. I forgot to make the call for a new shipment of wine, plus I need to make sure Sophia finished payroll. It’s time to get my shit together and step up my game if I want to keep this place running. I can’t let my parents do all the work.

I stare at my computer and smile at the desktop photo Sophia made for me. It’s an image she took of her cat, Lewis, sleeping next to me on my mother’s sofa. Fuck, that seems so long ago. One of the first weeks we met. And now, we’re having a child together. I already know I’m going to be an overprotective father. Poor kid. I’m gonna drive him or her nuts being one of those helicopter parents. Swooping in to make sure nothing bad ever happens... like my father should’ve done for me. My father...

“Goddammit,” I whisper and close my eyes. My shrink said he wants to discuss the time Paul and I met at my next session. How it began... what he did.

“Fuck!” I swipe my hand across my desk, tossing the paperwork to the floor then pull my flask from a drawer and unscrew the top. My hands have been shaking every evening for the past three days, withdrawal symptoms for sure. I take a deep whiff of the alcohol and hold the flask in my hand, trying to rub off the reflection of my face in the metal.

“Don’t drink, you fuck. Think about something else.”

I go online and quickly find some music to play. A good distraction. Yeah, I’ve been on an Imagine Dragons kick, but Soph isn’t so sure she likes them. This is the perfect time to blast one of their songs since she’s not around. Thank fuck I have a good set of speakers hooked up to my desktop. Alright then... Demons. Probably not the best choice in songs for my mood, but fuck it, it’s what I wanna hear.

I set the song to repeat and for the first time in my life I put the flask down. Fuck, that’s hard. Makes me feel like a pussy... shouldn’t it feel good... rewarding? I should be proud of myself, but I’m not.

The music echoes through the empty lounge area. I take off my shirt and slide my hands into the gloves while the heavy bag still rocks back and forth. It swings to the left, right, and then does a half-spin. I stare at it and wait for the right moment. My hands are up, feet apart, lyrics belting into my head.

My clenched fist rushes into the bag and makes a loud smack against the leather. I pretend to hit it with my other hand, but stop short because of my finger splints. I can’t even bend them into a fist at the moment, but one hand’s enough. It’s all I need to release some anger.

“Fucker,” I whisper, hitting the bag again. Over and over I drive my fist into the thing, each blow more powerful than the last. Beads of sweat form on my chest while my foot moves forward with each punch.

I stop the bag from its swing and start again, belting away at it like it’s Paul’s face. Drinking has always been my way of releasing my anger about him, and I’m starting to lose control in a way I never knew was possible. My hatred pours out as I attack the form in front of me; expecting to eventually win and knock it to the floor. But I can’t defeat it. My strikes push it slightly away, and then it swings back.

“Go down, you fuck!” I yell, only to be taunted by the bag’s return. If it were human, I’d be beating someone to a bloody pulp. My fist thrashes into it until I’m out of breath and tired of a game I’ll never win. I place my head on the leather and find a deep cry that’s been locked away working it’s way out.

“I hate you,” I whisper as tears roll down my cheeks. “I fucking hate you, Paul Jameson.” I throw the gloves on the floor and reach for the flask. The first drink gives me a sense of relief... the second and third start to calm my body, but not my mind. I’m an asinine shit who has no control. I throw the flask against the wall and fall to my knees; more tears, heavy breathing, my fist still clenched. This is the position he loved to see me in. That fuck.

“I said open your mouth, Star.”

Paul grips my throat and pinches my nose until I have no choice but to open my mouth to breathe. His dick is inside and I start to gag. He won’t stop, not even with my muffled screams and tearing eyes.

“Don’t fucking bite down on it or I’ll turn you around and fuck you up the ass.”

He releases my nose and puts his hand on the back of my head so I can’t escape. I watch the hair on his groin move toward my eyes as he thrusts his dick deeper inside.

“I might have to take you home with me, keep you locked away in my bedroom so I can fuck your sweet mouth anytime I want. You tell a soul about this and that’s what will happen.”

“Get the fuck out of my head.” My body jerks with convulsions as I try to stop my tears. “I’m fuckin’ crazy and it’s your fault, Paul. You made me this way.”

“Get ready for it. Make sure you swallow.”

I crawl around my desk, open the small safe in the bottom drawer, and pull out my handgun. I hate it that I own the thing, as well as a second one in the loft. Soph wanted them for protection. Shit, why did I listen to her?

My mind tells me to end it, do away with the daily pain and memories that circle through my head. But my heart stops me... for Sophia and the baby. I lean against the wall, elbows on my knees, with a loaded gun pointed at my head.

“Oh fuck, I’m close. Ah, you little shit... you have no idea what you’re in for... bet you’ve never even seen a man cum before. It’s nothing like your drips.”

The magazine is loaded full... the safety’s off... I pull back the slide and press the muzzle over my heart.

“Here comes the flood. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you. I’m gonna be inside of you forever. There... take it... take it all.”

The blast jerks my arm and fills my ears with a ringing chaos. Fuckin’ loud ass shit in a large open space. Doesn’t make me feel any better either, and I broke one of our chandeliers with the shot. I set the gun on the floor and bang my head a few times against the wall. I’m too weak to kill myself. Too much of a chicken shit to ever commit suicide.