“But why? We’re not friends. Hell, we barely even know one another. Why would you go through all this trouble?”
“I made him a promise, Bella. A promise to make sure you are happy and safe, if anything should ever happen to him. I’m a man of my word, so here I am.”
“Cal was never confirmed dead. A body wasn’t found. As far as legalities go, he’s still alive. Meaning, you’re furloughed from your promise to him. I can take care of myself.” I keep walking to my car, and of course, he’s still here.
All I want is to go back to my hotel, get a good night’s sleep, and go home tomorrow and continue my quest to find Cal. I don’t give a damn what Byron or anyone says, he’s alive. I can feel it. Cal and I are soulmates, and I’d know if he were gone.
“One drink,” Byron says as I pull open my car door.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s New Year’s Day. Have a drink with me. We can talk about your theories on where he might be. I can’t shake the feeling that someone put a hit on him. Especially after that body was pulled from the bay and the identity was never shared.”
“It wasn’t him,” I spit out on impulse. I just know it wasn’t.
This might be a good chance to find out if Byron has been searching for Cal. It is New Year’s Day and there’s no harm in one drink. Even if Cal’s warning is true—that Byron can’t be trusted—it’s a public place. He can’t hurt me.
I toss my bag inside, keeping my purse on my shoulder, then close my door. “One drink.”
CHAPTER TWO
We end up in a hole-in-the-wall bar about a block from the hall. Driving in the city is a bitch and I have no intention of doing so when I don’t have to, so we walked. A very awkward, quiet walk. Now that we're inside, I almost think I’d prefer that over the blaring music and loud chatter of the drunks.
It is a holiday, so I should have expected it. This isn’t my scene, though. Not anymore. I prefer to live under the radar in my own little bubble. For a while, I floated outside of it, and it was freeing and eye-opening, but in the end, I crawled back in with a broken heart. Now I never want to leave it again. It being home. My hometown, my family. Should’ve never left in the first place. If I could go back and live my life with just the childhood memories of Cal, instead of adding the ones we made during my stay at Cori Cove, I would. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so badly.
Byron manages to find us a small, empty, round table at the back of the bar. It’s covered in a sticky liquid and breadcrumbs, so I avoid touching anything but the chair.
Byron places a hand over mine, and I take a step back, letting it fall to his side. “I’ll get the waitress to clean this up and get us some drinks at the bar.” He must’ve noticed my turned-up nose at the grotesque table. “What’ll you be having?”
“Dry martini, please.” I sit down and take my phone out of the front pocket of my purse and begin scrolling through it like I actually have anything to read.
A few minutes later, Byron returns, and I put my phone away and take my drink from him. The first sip feels nice. I relish in the burn as it slides down my throat, already relieving some of my stress.
With a draft beer in hand, Byron sits down across from me. He takes a sip, then licks the foam from his lips. “So, Bella. Tell me what makes you think Callum is alive.”
“No, Byron. How about you tell me why you think he’s not?”
“Easy. If he were, he’d have come for you. Callum spent most of his life pining over you. Exacting his revenge and planning your,” he points a sharp finger,” future. There’s no way he’d just let you go after everything he did to get you back.”
“Or maybe this was part of his plan all along. Capture me, keep me long enough to make me fall in love with him, then push me away. It’s actually a solid act of revenge, if you ask me.” I take another drink as the words I just said replay in my mind. I never even thought of that until now. Talking about it has me considering different scenarios and what I just said is very possible. I tip my glass back, taking down half the contents.
No. He wouldn’t do that. Would he?
“Doubtful. Callum doesn’t play games like that. He wanted you, therefore, if he’s alive, he will be coming for you. Watch and see.”
My brows rise. “I guess I will.” I finish off my drink, already thirsty for another. My fingers dig into the bottom of the glass and I pull out the toothpick and take the olive off with my teeth.
Byron searches the crowded space. “Where the hell is that waitress?”
“I don’t know, but when you find her, tell her I need another one of these.” I hold up my glass, then set it on the table, already feeling a little woozy from drinking it so quickly.
Byron finishes off his beer in one big gulp. “The service here is fucking ridiculous. I’ll be right back.”
I nod, bored and ready to drink away my sorrows before passing out in my hotel bed.
Once again, I pull my phone out and look at nothing as I wait for him to return.
A guy passes by the table, gives me a double take while I resume doing nothing on my phone. When I glance up, I see that he’s standing right in front of me. I’m not really in the mood for small talk, but I’m also not a total bitch, so I say, “Hi.”
He leans forward, hands pressing into the goo on the table. I don’t even tell him because he’s going to figure it out in two seconds when I shoot him down and send him on his way. “Sorry, I just had to ask why a pretty girl like you is sitting here all by herself?”
“Actually, I’m not alone.”
“Hmm,” the guy looks around, “I don’t see anyone coming for you. Maybe you should let me buy you a drink.”
I avoid eye contact and look down at my phone in my hand. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“Oh, come on. No one should be alone on New Year’s.”
Getting frustrated, I shut my phone off and drop it into my purse. “Listen, asshole, I told you I’m here with someone, so if you wouldn’t mind backing up and leaving me alone, I’d appreciate it.”
“Wow. Someone’s a feisty thing. I happen to like feistiness.”
I reach into my purse, clenching my pepper spray, ready to use it if need be. “Get lost, creep.”
His lip tugs up in a cocky grin and he leans in, invading my personal space. I crane my neck at the repulsive smell of ash and stale beer rolling out of his wretched mouth. When he wraps an arm around my neck, I lift my arms up between us; I’m able to shove him back and he stumbles into a table, knocking down another guy’s drink.
“You bitch!” he howls. He comes charging toward me, but I’m ready for him. Another guy comes into view and tries to pull him back while shouting profanities, but I cock my fist back and lay it right on his nose. Except, it’s not him. I accidentally punch the guy trying to help. The familiarity throws me off guard. I’ve seen him before. “I’m…I’m so sorry,” I say. Blood streams down his face, and I give my hand a shake, working out the kink in my knuckles.
Byron comes out of nowhere, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me away. “Come on,” he says, “let's get out of here before you get your ass arrested.”