all that matters.

chapter eighteen

A/N: If you guys wanna get into the mood I'm trying to create, feel free to start the video {it's Nothing by The Script- Cover by Katy McAllister and Jeff Hendrick which is absolutely beautiful} whenever you see it fit. Yeah.
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*Spencer*
Maybe I should go check on her, just to make sure she's okay. She said she needed a hour or two alone. It's seven thirty. I hope I'm not playing that over-protective boyfriend. Still... I was going to knock on the door when I realized it was opened the door.

"Bethany?" I said stepping inside. Silence. "Beth, are you okay?" I repeated. I opened the door to the bedroom, and it took me a second to process everything. There she stood, balancing herself one hand against the wall, her knees sinking slightly kissing him with- desire... Hunger. There he stood, pulling her sleeve downward with one hand and fumbling with his button with another. For a second she unhinged and saw me. I don't even know to what to describe what was on her face. Guilt? Terror? Annoyance?

I simply turned around and walked out, barely managing to keep a straight face. As soon as I stepped out, I had used up all my control. I lost it. I began to cry, not even slightly ashamed. I was angry. I was depressed. I was confused. I scared. A million thoughts ran through my head. I began to do as the thoughts in my head, run. Run, run run. I didn't care where I was running. My heart pounds and everything is a blur- a cross between speed and tears.
I just want to stop thinking.
And feeling.
And understanding. Even if it's only temporary. And there's only one thing that can do that for me. It's time for me to break a rule of mine.

Alcohol.

I made a promise I made to myself when I was young that I would never pick up the substance. I loathed it. As a child growing up in Las Vegas, a shining, golden Mecca for alcoholics, and growing up under the roof of one, I'd seen my fair share of its effects. Still, I swallowed the hot, wet lump in my throat and pulled open the door to the bar.

The smell hit me before the sight. The place reeked of a mixture of beer, strong liquor, cheap wine, body odor, and cigarettes. I sat down, now exhausted.

"You look like hell, pal." The bartender chuckled. I figured I probably looked like a mess.
"Yeah, yeraweird lookinfella arentchoo? Wittha ugly tie, red puffy eyes and sweaty 'air." A drunken man with a southern accent slurred his words commented.
"What can I get you, anyway?" The tender asked wiping a cup.
"Just a beer please." I muttered. Only a little. To start with. Before long a butter colored drink that was foaming at the top found its way below me. I stared down at it for a second.

"I hope I don't get a call from anyone saying we're on duty. Especially not from her."
"From who?"
"No one." I said, before taking a gulp of the liquid. It burned my throat and mouth, but the feeling was instant. I felt a little more relaxed, and my thoughts were out to bay.
One bottle empty. Two. Three.

"Two tequilas." I ventured further.
Smack.
Smack. I slammed them back onto the wood in a matter of seconds. It's like someone put a film over my thoughts, they were hazy and dreary. But still, her name sat in my heart like a lump of coal.

"Three vodkas."
"You sure- you don't seem like you do this often. You're already hammered. We can talk about this..."
I dug my hand into my pocket and pulled out my wallet and waved it. The bartender frowned at me I think, it's hard to see. Things are doubled and even tripled. I can barely read or hold my balance. It's getting late now. The bar- clearly one of the many was now down to three people including myself.

One. Two. Three. Lucky number three. I reach back into my pocket to pay, and my credentials slip and fall to the floor. The bartenders eyes widen.
"Sh*t! I just helped a federal agent get drunk as all get out. Damnit!" He swore.
I shrugged, got up, slammed a fifty on the bar and staggered out. My heart and head still pounded. I'm going to go find her. But I'm angry at her. While my emotions battled each other, a black SUV pulled up.

Bethany parked and hopped out.
"Spence-"
"Done f*cking your boyfriend?" I said laughing.
"No no no, you don't understand." She looked like she was about to cry.
"UP MY A*S! I KNOW WHAT I SAW!" I screamed, suddenly angry.
She flinched.
"Spencer please listen-"
I raised my hand and turned.
"Please listen to me. He was holding a gun to my chest. I thought I was protecting you by helping him, but I know how bad I hurt you. As soon as you left I pulled myself together and started looking for you. I don't care what the consequences are." Bethany's voice wavered violently and cracked, tears streamed down her face. She kissed me. I accepted it.
"I'm forgive you. I love you. In my world, you're all that matters." I finished.
"Thank you Spencer."
"I think I left my credentials inside." I muttered, shifting my weight and falling. Quickly she grabbed me. He shook her head.
"Hurry."
"I will."
I walked back in, bent over and picked up the case. I picked it up and was about to turn around when something caught my eye.

Maybe if I'd been sober I'd have seen the dark figure with a gun.