Tony makes his way toward the bar as I look back over to Lance. I physically feel his flinch when his name is called from across the bar.
“Prescott, that you?” I hear a guy call out from a booth across the way. He stands, and that’s when I see the brunette at his side, her eyes trained on Lance like she can’t tear them away.
Channah.
On instinct, I know she still wants him. It’s written all over her face. I wonder if the same desperation laces mine. Fighting the sting of jealousy, my stomach drops as the man draws near, a sinister grin on his face.
“Thought that was you,” he says, sidling up to Lance. I can feel the air thicken around us as Channah pulls at his arm.
“Mark, you promised.”
“And who do we have here?” he says, ignoring her and looking me over.
“Mark,” Channah begs, “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?” His eyes cut back to her as she pulls at his bicep. He’s attractive, but dressed business casual, and looks out of place in the bar. “Just making friendly conversation.” He shrugs. “Haven’t seen this guy around lately, have we?”
Her eyes dart away, a sure sign of guilt. I feel like I just walked into a wall as I realize my assumption was right.
“Gotta pay our respects to our hometown hero, our football star, don’t we? Oh, that’s right,” he clamps a hand on Lance’s shoulder, “you didn’t get drafted. Damned shame, probably why you’re back home crying in your beer.”
“We’re leaving,” Lance says, grabbing my arm possessively. I glance back over my shoulder to look at Channah, whose eyes are trailing Lance. Following him out of the bar, I study him. His face is impassive.
“You want to tell me what that was about?”
“It’s history.”
“Yeah, well, history has a way of repeating itself, doesn’t it?”
“Not this time.” He turns to face me once we’ve cornered the bar, his eyes granite. “Harper, leave. I’m not asking anymore. I’m telling.”
He might as well have slapped me. “What?”
“We’re done. I don’t want you here. You’ve already cost me too much. I’m done with this. Us. Leave.”
I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. He can’t be saying these words to me. And meaning them.
“You really want that?” If I thought he was impenetrable before, it’s nothing compared to the arctic indifference he’s showing now. It’s as if I’m some groupie gnat he can’t seem to bat away.
“My mother’s going to sell the ranch if I don’t get my shit together, and I don’t have time to play patty cake with you anymore.” Heat climbs up my neck as I try to grapple with the weight of his words.
“I’m going back inside.”
He grips my wrist to stop me. “I mean it, Harper.” I cut my eyes to his.
“Enough. You’re scared. You’re afraid things won’t pan out this time. You’re terrified of what’s around the corner, and I can understand this more than you will ever know. You’re afraid I’ll hurt you again. Well I’m fucking scared too, but Lance, this is just life trying to put us at odds again. These are our circumstances now. Not forever. We can deal with this together. If you would just let me in.”
“You aren’t what I need.”
“That’s a lie. Jesus, and if she’s threatening to sell the ranch, it’s because you’ve turned into a raging dick void of personality. You don’t get to pin this on me. This is your fear talking. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I don’t want you anymore!” His voice booms, humiliating me, and I flinch on impact. I barely recognize my own voice when I counter.
“That’s a lie. I’m not going anywhere. You’re acting a fool.”
“I don’t want you here.”
“Lie.”
“I’m going to hate you if you stay much longer.”
“Lie. Lance, there’s something I need to tell you if you would just—”
“Prescott, I’m not fucking done with you,” Mark rounds the corner of the bar as Channah continues to plead with him.
Lance turns to me without hesitation.
“Go, get in the truck.”
I don’t move.
“Got to say,” Mark drawls, his eyes on me. “I would love to settle the score, but it looks like slim pickings. My, my, how your standards have changed.”
In an instant, Mark is pinned to the brick of the building, his smile growing wider at the reaction he’s drawing from Lance. It doesn’t take much to recognize this is an ongoing war waged long ago. Point only proven when Mark spews more venom. “Still the same inbred fucking piece of shit you always were.”
I stare at Lance, shocked by his silence.
His eyes scream murder, but his lips remained sealed. And that’s when my stomach drops. “Your whole family is shit,” Mark spouts as Lance releases him and turns to me.
“Get in the truck, Harper.”
“He’s been drinking all day,” Channah attempts to excuse, pulling at his arm. Mark grins over to me, and I can feel the coil in Lance’s posture as he keeps his own gaze zeroed on me. “This guy wore my hand-me-downs for years. My mother gave him my old clothes. I guess it’s only natural that he tries to second hand my fucking girl.” Lance grimaces, but not at the insult, at my reaction.
“Had to fuck her, huh?” Mark says, taking a menacing step forward.
All the blood leaves my face. Channah looks over to me, and I can feel her confusion, see the question in her eyes. It’s the same damned question every woman’s piqued gaze asks. What’s he doing with you?
“Had to fuck her to show me. You sure showed me, didn’t you? But what exactly did you prove? Didn’t get drafted, your ranch is in shambles, you’re bankrupt. You aren’t going anywhere, Prescott, and so you just couldn’t keep your filthy hands to yourself.”
“Mark!” Channah begs, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt while trying to drag him back.
Lance remains mute, his eyes trained on me. Blinding anger shines through, but it’s mixed with fear. It’s then I see everything he’s been hiding.
I saw all the signs, I recognized them because I’ve lived them for years.
I close my eyes as the shock wave runs through me.
Not Lance. Anyone but Lance.
Introvert. Mute. No social media. Tight inner circle.
He’s been dealing with this his whole life, and he didn’t want me to know.
A part of me dies inside as it dawns on me why. Mark isn’t Lance’s nemesis, but his bully.
Reeling, I grab his bicep and squeeze. “Let’s go.”
Eyes forward, Lance stalks toward his truck, and I follow. So does Mark, who easily discards Channah with the jerk of his arm.
“You’re a shitshow, always have been. Won’t ever amount to nothing.”
Silence. Unbearable silence is Lance’s answer and it rips me apart.
This is not the confident man I met, this is his shadow, a shadow he’s been fighting for years. In a sickening second, it occurs to me he might actually believe the hateful words being spewed at him.