“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.