Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“What did you drink?”
“Rotgut bourbon,” he says, “and let me tell you, it tasted like fucking Pappy Van Winkles after the toilet hooch I was used to.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I imagine.”
“But that was the point, too.” He shrugs. “The shit was both awful and delicious at the same time. But this place is special to me for a reason other than that.”
“Why?”
He leads me to the bar, sits down on a stool covered in cracked red vinyl. “This is where I met Savannah.”
“Seriously?” I sit down next to him, hoping the stool doesn’t crumble under my weight.
“Yeah. She came in here with Gert and a few others for their ladies’ night. It was the night…”
“Fuck. The night her friend died.”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.”
Inside, it’s cold in the way only old bars pull off—AC too strong, lights too dim, day held back by stained blinds. It smells like spilled beer and floor cleaner. Pool balls clack somewhere in the back. A guy in a Dallas Cowboys hat sleeps at the end of the bar.
A male bartender nods at us. “What’ll it be?”
“Where’s Iris?” Falcon asks.
“Off today. I’m Byron.”
Falcon nods. “Good enough. Two bourbons, Byron. The shittiest you’ve got. Neat.”
Byron chuckles. “Been that kind of day, huh?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I reply. Then, to Falcon, once Byron turns his back. “You sure you want to do this? I don’t want to be responsible for you violating your parole terms.”
He chuckles. “I’m a big boy, Hawk. No one knows me here, and no one cares, either.”
Two glasses appear. Two fingers each.
I pick up my glass. “Bottoms up,” I say.
Falcon nods and we both take a drink.
“Damn,” I say, once the burning in my throat subsides.
“Right?” Falcon sets his glass down. “Smoke, a touch of caramel, and a lot of battery acid.”
“That’s about it.” I take another drink. “It’s perfect.”
He elbows me in the ribs. “Was I right or was I right?”
“Why here? Why before you came home?” I ask.
Falcon takes another sip, this time a little more cautiously. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I kind of do,” I say. “But I kind of don’t, too. You’ve always had a taste for good booze. Good wine. Hell, you were going to take that wine trip with Mom before…”
He nods. “Yeah, I know.”
“Right.”
“I can’t explain it any better than I already have.” He finishes off his drink. “So… You and Daniela.”
I set my empty glass down on the bar hard. “Don’t.”
“Okay. But I can only tell you this.” He signals Byron for a refill. “If you’re feeling something for this woman, don’t try to fight it. You won’t win that fight. Trust me. I know.”
I sigh. “She told me she didn’t want my kind of protection. That if this is what it looks like, she doesn’t want it.”
“What does it look like to her?”
I exhale sharply. “Breaking and entering. Stalking. A man tied up in our old barn.”
“She’s got her eyes open,” Falcon says. “All that is true.”
“Yeah, but I’m trying to protect her, Fal. She’s been through so much in her short life, and I’ll be damned if she goes through anything awful again as long as I’m breathing.”
“But all of this…” Falcon gestures broadly. “None of it is you, Hawk.”
“Maybe I never wanted to be Mr. Fix-it,” I say, downing the last of my bourbon and signaling to Byron. “Maybe this is who I truly am. Not the invisible middle brother. Maybe it’s my time to protect the woman I—” I stop abruptly.
He grins. “So you fucking love her.”
I rake my fingers through my hair. “Hell, I don’t know. I’m feeling something I’ve never felt before, that’s for sure. But it’s more than that.” I let out a sigh on a whoosh. “It’s Eagle and the fact that he OD’d. It’s Dad. It’s Mom.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Mom?”
“Never mind.” I take a drink of the refilled glass Byron slides toward me.
Falcon spins his glass on the bar. “You’re not telling me everything.”
“You’re right.” I take a drink, let it coat my throat with its acidic flavor. “I’m not.”
Falcon looks past me, seems to focus on the doorway. “I’ll say it again. You’ve always been the cool one. The lid. The fixer. Now you’re running hot.”
I stare at my drink. “Maybe the lid doesn’t fit anymore.”
“And maybe part of you is thinking with your dick.”
I turn my head. “Say that again and I’ll fucking knock you into next week.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He laughs. “I took out bigger and stronger men than you on the inside, Hawk.”
He’s no doubt right. But I’m not thinking with my dick. I’m not that stupid. Yes, I want to protect Daniela. But Falcon has no idea what other secrets I’m keeping from him.
If he did?
He wouldn’t believe me anyway.
“I’m telling you to be who you are.” Falcon says. “You’re the guy who plans. You’re the guy who doesn’t miss a step. You’re the guy who looks five moves ahead.”