“What brings you out tonight?” Carson asked when no one said anything.
“Just chillin’ after a long week.”
Atticus watched the two of them practically face-off, although there were at least three feet between them. Since they were the same age and had grown up in the same small town, he figured they had history.
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Long enough for Atticus to feel a bead of sweat trickle down the center of his back. He did not want a repeat of what went down the last time he was here, but there was a good chance he was about to witness round two.
Slade looked ready to rip Carson a new one, but a guy walked up. Atticus had never seen him before, and he’d seen most of the people who came to this bar at least once. He would’ve remembered him. Wild red hair and cold, dead eyes weren’t something you would forget.
“Hey, man. I need to ask you a question.”
The guy was directing it at Slade.
“What’s up?”
“Do you know Molly?”
Slade frowned. “No. Can’t say I do. Why?”
The guy ignored Slade’s question and turned to Atticus. “What about you?”
“No. I don’t know any Molly.”
Dead Eyes nodded as though that was the answer he expected before turning to scan others in the place. Before he could walk away, Mack was walking toward him.
“I’ll need to see ID,” Mack said gruffly.
“No worries, Pops,” the kid said with a laugh. “I was just leaving.”
Atticus watched as Mack escorted him to the door.
“What the hell was that about?” Atticus wondered aloud.
“Probably lookin’ for drugs,” Carson said. “Maybe he thought y’all could hook him up. Isn’t there a street drug called Molly?”
“Yeah,” Slade said, still watching the door. “Ecstasy is referred to as Molly.”
Great. Just what this little town needed: pill-popping teenagers wandering around.
Finally, Slade’s gaze cut to him. He jerked his chin. “Watch out for this one, kid.” Slade’s eyes shifted back to Carson. “He’s a squirrelly one.”
Carson laughed as Slade walked away.
Yeah, there was definitely history there.
Atticus wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway. “What was that about?”
“It was just a guess. I don’t do drugs,” Carson said.
“Not the drugs,” Atticus clarified. “I meant with Slade. What’s up with you two?”
Carson tipped his beer bottle to his lips and stared after Slade. “Nothin’ that’s worth repeatin’.”
Why was it that Atticus found himself attracted to people Slade seemed to have a problem with?
Carson turned his full attention to Atticus, twisting to face him more fully. A warm hand pressed against Atticus’s thigh as Carson leaned closer.
“What’d’ya say we go back to my place?”
