Tonight had been so good before all of this. We’d even recovered after the random phone call—laughed it off, settled back into the quiet. One minute we’re watching the lake, his arm pulling me close like it’s instinct, and the next? Total, awful chaos.
“Nick’s lucky I wasn’t here,” Maren says fiercely. “I’d have kicked him straight in the dick. Apologized. Gained his trust back. And then done it again.”
Her eyes shine, angry tears collecting there, the kind that always surprises me. Not sad. Furious. Protective.
Birdie leans across the bar toward me, voice gentler now. “Babe, you okay? Looks like they’re wrapping things up back there.” She tips her head toward the officers, toward Colson standing stiff and contained a few feet away.
“What can they even do?” Maren asks, glancing between us. “Colson didn’t do anything, right?”
Birdie shakes her head. “This happens sometimes with tourists. Not usually locals.” She sighs. “They can’t do much without catching Nick in the act, driving or even holding his keys. A few of us gave statements. Told them he fell on his own dumb-ass accord and Colson kept his hands to himself.”
What a nightmare.
“It’s messy. Annoying.” Birdie wipes down the bar with a little more force than necessary. “But they’ll make sure Nick gets somewhere safe for the night.” She snorts. “Not that he deserves an ounce of grace.”
I stare down at my drink, at the ripples still trembling inside it, my hands the culprit.
I hate the way I can still hear Nick screaming my name like that, like his words left a mark where no one can see. Like he was ripping through this happy place. The city I call home.
And I have no idea why. What does he even want? I kind of hate that I’m thinking about it but how could I not?
The sound of footsteps grab our attention and we walk as a cop leads Nick out, followed by the other cop and Colson. The sight of them has me standing.
Nick slows as he approaches me, and before anyone can say anything, Maren jumps in.
“I wish I could say it was good to see you but that would be a lie. Gross behavior, Nick.” She rolls her eyes and turns back to face the bar, not even giving him a chance to respond.
His face drops a bit and his eyes look at mine. The man I fell in love with years ago is nowhere in sight. Like, not even a glimpse of him.
“Sadie. I just wanted to talk.” His head almost hangs but he’s being pushed from behind.
I don’t even have a chance to respond. Not even sure I want to.
Tom, the town deputy, says, “Keep going, Nick. We talked about this. Now is not the time.”
Colson wraps me up in a hug, his arms strong and substantial. I put my head in his chest, so thankful this night is almost over. He doesn’t say anything but instead holds onto me, swaying us back and forth. One of his hands draws circles on my back.
When they’re out the front door, Maren jumps in. “Spill, Colson. What happened?”
He blows out a breath, looking around to make sure no one else is nearby. “I mean, he tried to say that I pushed him. He was in there, throwing a fit, and then the deputies let him know they already had statements from other people.” He rubs his hands over his face. “And then he finally told the truth.”
“What a dick,” she says.
Colson looks at me when he continues, “He just kept saying he came to talk. Didn’t say why. Or what about. They didn’t do anything about the drinking and driving, except they’re going to drop him off at one of the motels nearby. Awfully nice.” He rolls his eyes.
“I brought him here a few times when we were together. Maybe that’s why,” I contemplate, doing my best to make sure it doesn’t sound like an excuse—that’s the last thing he deserves.
“Well, at least he’s out of your hair.” Maren stands from the bar. “You got her?” she asks Colson.
He nods and responds, “Of course.”
She puts a hand on his shoulder, which is kind of funny because he’s so tall, but Maren has that energy to go toe-to-toe with him. “Thank you for taking care of her tonight. I appreciate it.” She pauses and then points at him, “And, I expect it.”
“You got it,” he assures her.
Maren leaves and it’s only me and him.
I lean, my back hitting the bar with the weight of the evening.
