Vengeance (Updating Weekly)

Part 19

I lay flat on the couch, my head spinning as I stare up at the ceiling. I'm drunk. Too drunk to stand. Catarina lays beside me in the opposite direction, her legs hanging off the other side of the couch. I'm feeling as light as a feather.

"There's just no way," I laugh at her. "Ten thousand? I was thinking over a million."

"A million?" she gasps. "You think it would take a million splinters to build a doorframe?"

"Yes! At least!"

"How big are the splinters? Tiny, right? Ten thousand must be enough."

"No way. Ten thousand wouldn't even get you halfway. Wait, how big is the doorframe?"

"Like... this big," she holds her hand up, showing me about a yard.

"That's a tiny door."

"No, it's that wide and, like... I don't know, 3 yards high."

"Imagine if we only had tiny doors and we had to crawl through them all."

"Oh my god," she bursts out in laughter. "That's so unflattering!

"You guys are wasted," Angelis sits on the floor, resting his back against the couch.

"How many Stavros brothers would it take to build a doorframe?" Catarina asks.

"All of them," I respond.

"Atticus is your best bet," Angelis says. "I'd give up and Santos would just hire someone else to do it for him."

"We could definitely do better," Caterina says.

"Oh, absolutely," I agree. "We'd build the best fucking doorframe this place has ever seen."

"Even I believe that," Angelis laughs. Caterina lifts her arm over her head to touch my shoulder.

"I hope you stay here," she says. "I like having you around."

"Hey, we weren't going to talk about that, remember?" Angelis tells her.

"It's okay," I respond. "It's nice to have friends again. It's been a long time since I felt like I could."

"Always on the run?"

"Pretty much."

"You deserve a break from that," Catarina says. "You deserve a family. You deserve a home."

Is that what I've found here — a home, a family? That's all I've wanted for years. They're offering it to me now, on a silver platter, and I can't accept it. Why the fuck am I getting emotional right now?

"I need more alcohol," I sit up straight. My vision is too blurred to make sense of the world around me. The room has emptied since we laid down. Only a few figures remain. Atticus is one of them. He's sitting by the bar, in conversation with Santos.

"Yo, Atticus," Angelis calls out. He looks over at us. "Take your girl home. She's had enough for tonight."

"Hey," I complain. I'm not done yet.

"Sorry, love, he'll be mad if I get you drunk."

"But it's still early."

"It's past midnight."

"It is?" Caterina shoots forward. "I need to get to bed."

"See?" Angelis says. "It's time to wrap up."

"Fine," I give in. The bed is comfortable. Resting is nice. I'll finally be able to take off these heels. My feet ache as I climb off the couch.

"Are you ready to go?" Atticus asks, joining our group. I haven't spoken to him all night. He looks good. He's not wearing a suit jacket today, just a neat button-up tucked into his pants. It's a nice look.

"Angelis," I turn to him. "Are you coming?"

"Nah, I'll help clean up here. You go with Atticus."

That's just what I was trying to avoid.

"You don't have to come with me," I tell Atticus. "You can stay."

"It's fine," he says. "Let's just get you to bed."

Bed. That's exactly where I want to be. I say goodbye to the rest of the party and follow Atticus outside. My feet are unsteady, but we still manage to make it onto the boat with no issues. Atticus stands up at the front, giving me the couch to myself. I lay down on it, looking up at the stars above. It's quiet. All I can hear is the soft hum of the motor, the water splashing around us, and the wind whistling in my ear. A smile pulls at my lips.

"I love that sound," I mumble.

"What was that?" Atticus asks. He leans over me, resting against the side of the boat.

"I love the sound of the wind and the water," I repeat. "It's beautiful and peaceful and calming. I love it. Don't you love it?"

"You're drunk," he says, humour in his voice.

"Aren't you?"

"No, I've got work tomorrow."

"You didn't drink?"

"I did, just not as much as you."

"I didn't drink that much."

"Please," he scoffs. "There's no way you could recite the alphabet backwards in this state."

"What are you, a cop?" I snicker. "Did you at least have a good night?"

"I did, yeah. Did you?"

"Yes!" I shoot my fist up into the air. Atticus laughs at me. "I didn't think about a single thing. It was so nice."

"I suppose you have had a lot to think about lately."

"Too much," I drop my arm over my eyes. "My head is full. It's going to explore!"

"I'm glad you got a break then. We can't have your head exploding now, can we?"

"No, it can't explode. I like my head," I state. "I haven't had this much to drink in years. I like it. It's fun. Drinking was always too risky, you know? Simpson would be mad at me. I couldn't let my guard down."

"But you can now?"

"I guess so," I think about it for a moment, Vassilis' face popping into my mind. "He can't get to me here."

"No, he can't."

"Thank you for that."

"For what?"

"For bringing me here, for giving me a chance to feel safe again, for reminding me how life should be."

"You don't have to thank me for that."

We don't speak again until we arrive at the dock. Atticus helps me back onto my feet and out of the boat. I stumble towards my room, holding on to him to stop myself from falling. I pause when we reach my door. I rest against it, putting all my energy into focusing on Atticus. I like having him so close to me. He smells nice.

"I don't like avoiding you," I tell him.

"I don't like it either, but it's making things easier, isn't it?"

"No," I shake my head. I place my hand on his chest, my eyes flickering down to his lips. They look so good, I just wanna— I press my lips against his, but they part just a second later.

"Erin," he takes a step back, removing my hand from his body. "We can't do that. You're drunk, and I need to get you into bed."

"Are you gonna tuck me in?" I open the door, not even bothered by the rejection.

"I sure am."

I kick off my heels, diving into bed still fully dressed. Atticus helps me cosy up beneath the sheets. He sits at the edge of the mattress. I shut my eyes and drift off into a peaceful sleep. By the time I wake up, he's gone, replaced only with a bucket-load of embarrassment and a pounding headache. I feel like shit. I stay in bed for what feels like hours, waiting for even a sliver of dignity to return. The Panadol eventually starts to do its job, but my shame remains. I've completely humiliated myself. It was fun at the time, but looking back, it was stupid and reckless. Things got out of hand. I shouldn't have said half the things I did. I shouldn't have behaved that way. The longer I stay here, the worse it's going to get.