Chapter Forty

H eavily buzzing, I enter the dark, dank bar as a flood of memories come rushing back. Not much has changed. The floor littered with the same small round tables and cheap wooden chairs. The walls glow with a slew of neon signs. The only addition is a thinly carpeted stage and karaoke machine set up next to the jukebox.

"Cecelia?"

Behind the bar, Eddie stands scrutinizing me. I greet him with a smile as visions of the past swim in my head. "The Boys of Summer" by Don Henley drifts from the jukebox as if welcoming me back to that time, in this place. The lyrics haunting, fitting, wrapping me up inside them as I sink back into the history I lived here.

"Hey, Eddie."

"You shouldn't be here," he says as I approach the bar. "He won't like it."

No question of who he is.

"Yeah, well, I have an issue with management, and I think it's time we settled it. I'll have a Jack and Coke."

He slowly shakes his head while toweling off a pint glass.

"You really aren't going to serve me?" I blow out a breath of frustration. "Really, Eddie? I thought we were friends." I should know better by now. I'm starting to go blind from the gleam of the "Scarlet A" on my chest. I left Tessa's dress shop feeling like the Whore of Babylon. From the reactions of the people I used to feel safest with, I've been reduced to nothing but an old hood groupie.

"You shouldn't be here, Cecelia," he repeats.

"Don't worry. I brought my own." I pull my half drained brown bottle from my purse and lift it for him to see.

"You can't bring that in here."

I pull out my wallet and place a hundred down. "Then give me one."

Reluctantly, he pulls a bottle of Jack and a glass up from behind the bar, and I slide the money over. He shakes his head, refusing it. "Thanks, Eddie."

"He's going to have my nuts for this."

"But you're good at keeping secrets, aren't you?"

He grunts, and I push the money toward him again. "Can I have some change?"

He exchanges the bills in the cash drawer. And I take a few of the singles and stuff the rest in his tip jar. "Good to see you, too."

I lift the bottle and glass, and he stalks off to tend to a man perched at the bar while eyeing me with warning.

A warning I ignore.

I set my things at the table closest to the jukebox, tumbler in hand, and search through the endless music and pause when I see it.

"Keep on Smilin'" by Wet Willie. The song Sean and I danced to in the street. I searched for it the day after the festival and kept it on repeat for days—reliving those short minutes we spent together before he left me without a word.

And I'd just had a run-in with his wife.

His beautiful wife, who he has two children with.

I toss back a good amount of liquid, trying to extinguish one burn with another. Why in the hell do I have to be the one to pay the highest cost for our shared past?

Because it's the way it is.

Because I'm the villain.

Because I'm the one encroaching on the reality of now with my hang-ups over the past.

I punch in the numbers and glance around the mostly empty bar, before shrugging off my blazer and taking my seat.

When the music starts to play, my eyes instantly water.

I can't seek him out now, and I'm terrified to run into him. Terrified of what his reception will be. If it's half as scalding as his beautiful wife's, I don't know if I'll survive it. The floodwater that separated us years ago is now stale, murky, and unrecognizable. No way to wade through, no way to get around.

I can't go back there. I can't move forward without my answers. I thumb my engagement ring and decide to box it in the morning. It's going to be the most painful step to fully let go of my future—of Collin—before I make peace with the past. But that's the order of things, and it's time. I didn't come back to drown. I came back in search of my kick. Lost in my thoughts, a masculine scent invades me before a familiar voice whispers in my ear.

"Can I have this dance?"

I turn my head, and my jaw drops when recognition kicks in. "Tyler?"

"Hey, Cee," he says softly, his eyes filled with warmth where he towers above me, his hands on the table. Stumbling back, I leap from my seat and lunge for him; he catches me easily, pulling me into a bear hug.

I hug him so tight he coughs out a chuckle of surprise. "I almost didn't recognize you in a suit."

"Hey, girl, hey," he croons softly, tightening his hold.

I pull away as his eyes glitter over me and tears sting my eyes.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

He grins. "You are ten times more lethal than when I met you. You are fucking beautiful, woman."

"Thank you," I say, soaking him in. He's got a scar on his chin now. It's white, old. I run my finger along it. "What happened?"

"Battle scars," he says softly. And I wonder if it has anything to do with the last time I saw him, but I dare not ask. He shakes off his coat and takes a seat.

"I can't stay long."

"Drink?" I pour some of the whiskey into my glass and thrust it at him. I'm not above bribery for just a few minutes with an old friend.

He takes the offered glass and tosses it back, eyeing me the whole time.

"You know he's coming, right?"

"I don't know that. He probably won't bother. He's refused me at every turn. All I want is a conversation, and he won't even give me that."

"You being here is dangerous, Cee."

"My father is dead," I whisper quietly. "It's all over . I've signed over the company, and I'm here to tie up loose ends. Have another." I pour and push the drink toward him.

He smirks and accepts the whiskey. "Despite the growing population, this is still a small town. Your return is big news. You have a few people nervous."

"I've kept my mouth shut, and you damn well know it. I'm not here to spill hood secrets. I'm here to get answers."

"I know that, and you know that, but prying eyes don't know that." He lifts his chin, and I see a few of the men scattered around the bar eyeing us both. I meet their curious gazes one by one, unflinching, and bring my eyes back to Tyler.

"Oh, I'm aware. I just had a run-in with Mrs . Roberts."

He winces.

"Yeah," I say, sipping straight from the bottle. "It went a lot like that."

"And so you're here because?"

"A drink?"

He lifts a brow.

"Fine," I say, tossing more whiskey back. "Maybe I'm here to pick a fight."

"Cecelia, he's changed."

"We all have."

He slowly rotates his tumbler on the table. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy to see you. But this won't end well."

"Damnit," I say, slamming the bottle down. "Fuck him. Okay? He's not the only one who lost. Don't you think I deserve answers?"

"You know better than to look for those."

"Why? Why does he get to be the one to decide?"

"You know why."

"I'm staying put."

He eyes me with concern. "Can I help?"

I shake my head adamantly. "I deserve them from him. He's the one who condemned me to hell." I can hear the anger in my tone. "He owes me, and I'm not leaving without answers." I swallow and shake my head. "I miss them," I say, lifting another shot to my lips. "Being here has made me sentimental, and I'm well aware I'm not wanted, but the day you put me in my Jeep..." our exchange reflects the pain of the memory. "You're in the know, but you can't imagine how being in the dark feels after all this time."

Pure guilt shines in his eyes. "Things got too fucked up. We didn't want it falling back on you."

"Don't think for one minute I'm not grateful. You saved my life. Dominic..." I choke on his name. "But it doesn't change the fact that I deserve answers."

"I guess I can't argue with you," he sighs. "But some things are better left in the past."

He lowers his gaze briefly as he continues to rotate his glass.

"I was sorry to hear about Delphine."

He sobers considerably before he pulls the bottle out of my hand and refills his tumbler. "You gave me a gift when you brought me to her house that day."

I just wanted to thank you.

His words from our run-in years ago, when Tobias and I were in the kitchen. Delphine is what he was thanking me for.

"You got back together?"

He nods. "We got nearly two years before she died in my arms. I can't even tell you how much those years meant. She got sober, and she fought hard. It was the most blissful time of my life." He swallows, his voice raw when he speaks. "But I won't ever regret it. And it's because of you that I had that time with her. She told me I healed her just before she passed." His Adam's apple bobs painfully. "She wasn't afraid."

A tear slides down my cheek as he looks through me, somewhere in the past with her. "I'm so happy you got that." I take the glass from him and pause it at my lips. "I want the same thing, you know? Some peace of mind after all that was lost."

"I'm pulling for you," he says. "But just tread lightly."

"I've done that long enough," I say defiantly.

He stands and kisses me on the cheek. "Gotta run."

"No, please no, stay," I beg. "I'll buy you a bottle of your own. I'm a rich woman now. Did you hear?"

He nods, pity lacing his gaze.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine."

"If you say so. Please, just be careful."

"I'm not afraid of him."

He flashes a boyish grin. "You're still the same insanely beautiful, smart-mouthed, hard-headed woman you were years ago."

"You act like that's a bad thing."

"I really have to go."

I stand and pull him to me. He wraps his arms around me, and I press off my toes and whisper in his ear. "I missed you too, ya know. When I left, I feel like I lost you, too."

"Same," he whispers before releasing me.

"Please stay. One more drink?"

"I can't. I'm flying out of Asheville in an hour."

"You don't live here?"

He shakes his head. "I haven't in years."

Years. "Are you going to tell me what you've been up to?"

"Little of this and that."

I roll my eyes. "I don't know why I asked."

"It's always better if you don't."

"I would say, don't be a stranger, but I know better." He pulls me into his hold one last time and releases me. "I wish you well, Tyler, be happy, okay?"

"I've got your back, Cee. Always ."

"I know."

He winks, and like most of the other men in my life, he disappears.

I shake my emotion away, knowing I'm being watched. Pouring another shot, I wrap my hand around the glass lifting my middle finger, my intent for those prying eyes clear, and swear I hear a chuckle come from a few of them. Another sip in, it becomes easier to ignore the watchful gazes of the men lining the bar.

Minutes pass, and I kick back, rocking to my music, to Sean's music, my limbs growing heavy with the buzz. Within the next few minutes, I'm digging through my purse, pulling out Sean's Zippo. I flick it open and closed, eyeing the guy closest to me a table over.

"Hey," I say with a smile.

He returns it. "Hey."

"Look, I know this might seem out of the blue, but would you happen to know where I can get a little weed?"

He grins and lifts from his chair, his beer in hand, and walks the few feet over to get to me. "I may be able to help you," he says, his eyes lighting as I scan his arm. No ink, and completely ignorant he's just stepped in a ring of fire.

"Oh yeah? How much?"

"Free, if you smoke with me."

I shake my head, regretting my decision to start the interaction. Ryan is right: I'm being stupid and reckless. But after today, I'm finding fewer and fewer fucks to give. It's the look in the stranger's eyes that has me on edge. "That's not what I'm looking for."

"It's all good. I don't bite."

"Well, I do . And I'm saying no, thank you. Forget I asked. It was a bad idea."

"Sounds like a good one to me."

"Trust me. It's not."

He inches closer, his eyes roaming over me, and I know he hasn't heard a word I've said.

"Seriously, never mind." As he draws near, my sixth sense kicks in, and bells begin to ring in warning. "I mean it, stay away from me."

"Don't be like that," he says, setting his beer on my table and leaning toward me with a clear look of intent. "We're just getting to know each other."

"Jack," Eddie speaks up from where he stands behind the bar, "you don't want to mess with that one."

"Yeah, Jack," I say, a faint if not imagined itch stirring on either side of my spine. "You should go."

Jack eyes Eddie and then me before pulling back, contemplating the warning while picking up his beer, but he's too late. Standing at the entrance of the seedy bar is the most lethal and beautiful of devils, and he's brought hell with him, the summoned flames dancing in his eyes.