Chapter 20
CROCUSES.
What do you know? She was right.
The little purple flowers dotted the pathway leading from the mainland dock. As Connor got out of the motorboat and jumped onto dry land, he made sure to trample on some of those goddamn crocuses.
Fuck spring. Fuck flowers. Fuck them all.
He lifted his wet face and wiped his cheeks. No more tears. He was done.
If memory served, someone had opened a new bar at the far end of the main street. It was about time he christened the place. He tied up the boat and marched down the road.
Some of the stores in town had already closed up shop for the evening, but others were still open. As he stormed down the street, one or two people waved hello. He didn’t wave back.Fuck them, too.
He didn’t want to talk to people, not his kind or any other kind. All he wanted right now was a strong drink. No, several. This was the sort of heartache from which he’d never recover. He might not be able to fix it, but he could try to forget it for a while. If he had his way, he’d be forgetting for a good, long time. Ryland might have to get someone to cover his shifts. There was no way he was setting foot back on that island, not until she was gone, and maybe not even then.
Elaine, you allowed me to be a part of your family, and now you’re taking it away.
In one fell swoop, she’d killed his dreams. In one fell swoop, she’d destroyed their family. She’d called him a fixer. Well, Elaine was a destroyer. She killed good things. His hope had just started to bloom, just like those stupid crocuses, and she’d whipped in like an unexpected gust of winter wind, freezing everything in her path.
It amused him to picture her as a cartoonish queen, her blonde hair highlighted with snow. In his vision, she wore a gown made of icicles and rode a white stallion. As she tore across their home, she aimed her scepter at the inhabitants of Gemini Island, turning them into icy shells.
Now he was having Narnia fantasies. He really needed that drink.
He might like to think Elaine had shocked the hell out of him tonight, but a kernel of truth began to pop inside him. This travesty hadn’t been all that unexpected, had it? He’d seen this shitstorm coming.
That was the thing about denial. It was an amazing place to be. You could tell yourself anything when you were in denial. In that murky dream world, love bloomed, hope persevered, and fucking unicorns pranced through the meadows.
It had been so easy playing house with Elaine and the kids. They’d fallen into their roles so quickly and naturally.
He’d never bothered to think about whether it might be wrong. He knew they’d moved quickly. It had felt right to him, but what if she had a point?
Maybe he’d been too hard on her.
No. “Don’t even go there,” he muttered. “She didn’t have to end it.” They could have taken things slowly and eased into their new lives. He wouldn’t have pressured her. He would have given her anything she wanted.
A green neon light caught his attention. The bar, thank Christ. It was called Oblivion.
Just what he needed.
Connor threw open the door and inspected the place. It was dark. Almost every surface was painted black. Thrasher music blared over the speakers and seemed to appeal to the clientele, a mix of Goth and metal-head stoners.
Perfect. Tonight, this was his kind of crowd.
He sat down at the bar, in between two older guys who looked like they’d wandered in ages ago and never found the exit.
The bartender, a Goth girl whose black corset barely concealed her nipples, leaned over in front of Connor. The artful move gave him an even better view of her breasts, and she knew it. “Hey, there, gorgeous. I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Whiskey, please.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m not interested in anything but that whiskey, thanks.”
“Hard to get.” Her eyes narrowed. “How refreshing.” Turning her back, she offered him a clear view of her ass as she prepared the drink. With a smile of seduction, she set it in front of him.
The conservative amount she’d poured wasn’t encouraging. He threw a few bills down on the counter. “I’ll take the bottle.”
