Bailey woke early, even earlier than was her usual wakeup time and lay there for a while staring into the darkness, her mind thinking over everything Tempest had told her the night before. But regardless of all the fantastical things Tempest had confided in her, one of the most human things Tempest said rang true above all the rest. No matter what choice Remi made, he couldn’t win. Lying there thinking it over, her brow furrowed when the obvious solution suddenly occurred to her. “I can fix this,” she whispered. She got up and quickly changed from thenightgown she’d borrowed from Tempest, into the clothes she’d worn the previous day. She made the bed, then folded Tempest’s nightgown and left it on the bed. She slipped on her shoes and quietly opened the door. Stepping into the hallway, she held still while listening for any activity at all. Hearing none, she very quietly left Brandt’s and Tempest’s house, locking the door behind herself and tiptoeing down the staircase outside to her car parked below.
Bailey backed out and drove away, knowing she had to take care of this before she went to work, and she had to be at work to start her day at 3:30 this morning, so she had very little time to settle things with Remi.
~~~
Remi sat on his living room floor, his back leaning against his sofa, three empty whiskey bottles lying on their side near his feet, and another half-empty one gripped one hand. He stared straight ahead, the static on his television not even registering in his brain. Somewhere in the distant awareness of his mind he heard a tap on his front door. The only move he made was to allow his eyes to close. A few moments later, he lifted the opened bottle to his lips and swallowed another mouthful.
At the same time he lowered the bottle to the floor, he heard another tap on the door.
He shook his head, took a deep breath and let it out in a slow measured breath.
The tap sounded again only more insistent this time, harder and longer.
Remi squeezed his eyes closed. “Go away,” he begged, his lips forming the words, though his voice did not join in.
The tap from before transformed itself into a persistent knock.
“Go away!” he bellowed at his door, his voice — thankfully — joining the party this time.
“No!” a soft voice answered.
He opened his eyes and swung his unsteady head toward his door. “Bailey?” he asked.
“Open the door, Remi. I’m not going away until we talk. And we have to talk soon because I only have about half an hour before I have to be at work.”
He looked down at himself, then at the bottles, one still in the process of being consumed. “‘S’not a good time.”
“This is the only time, Remi. Open the door or I’ll go around to the back and climb through a window!” she yelled.
“Locked,” he managed to answer.
“Not if I throw a rock through them, they’re not!”
Sighing deeply as he forced his drunken body up and toward the door, he unlocked it, opened it, and walked away, leaving her to come in or not. He went right back to his spot in the living room, after a quick stumble past his kitchen counter where a case of whiskey sat clothed in their purple and gold drawstring bags, waiting for their turn to numb his soul.
Bailey followed him in the house, pausing to close his door. She watched as he dug a bottle out of a case that was already missing several and wove his way back to the living room, collapsing on the floor while spilling part of the bottle of whiskey he’d held gripped in his right hand and been sipping from the whole time. “What are you doing, Remi?”
“Planning my future,” he slurred.
“You planning on being a drunk?”
“Hey, if I can manage to afford the amount of whiskey it will take, it’s not a bad idea.”
“It makes no sense, Remi. Why do this to yourself?”
“I’m just having a little drink.”
“Or ten, or twenty. I mean, how much have you drunk so far?”
He allowed his head to bob a little as it swiveled to focus on her. “How many bottles do you see?”
“Five. Three of them are empty, one well on its way.”
“That’s how many I’ve had.”
“I thought shifters couldn’t get drunk. I’m especially surprised Dragons can.”
“Ah, you’ve been told the truth. Well, it’s hard to get a shifter drunk, and if you want to stay drunk, you have to keep drinking.”
