Page 20 of Property of Player

She approaches me, bold as brass.

“He was asking for Taylor,” the bartender says.

“I’m sure he was. Thanks, Hal.”

Yeah, thanks Helpful Hal. I sigh, positive she’s about to tell me to hit the road. Her eyes search mine, and I wait, ready for the vitriol I know is coming.

“She needs you,” Kayla whispers.

I’m so stunned I pull the stir stick from my mouth, but no words come. It’s like my brain just froze. At the same time, a million questions zing through it. But a part of me is wondering if she’s just fucking with me.

“But not if you’re just going to hurt her,” Kayla adds.

“What’s wrong? I mean, she told me your mother was ill. Is that it?”

Kayla picks up a rag and starts wiping the bar top. “That’s part of it.”

“What’s the other part?” My mind is reeling now, filling in the blanks with a thousand scenarios.

“She needs a friend, is all,” she says, but I don’t buy for a minute that’s the answer.

“I never meant to hurt her. The last thing I want is to cause that girl pain.” I know Kayla is a hurdle I’ll have to get past if I have any hope of seeing Taylor.

“I hope you mean that, because she can’t take any more of that right now.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I exhale. “We had words earlier. It didn’t go the way I wanted it to go. I didn’t mean to piss her off, but I did.”

“I know. She told me.”

“It was a shock seeing her today at the cemetery.”

The motion of the rag on the bar stills. “She was at the cemetery today?”

“Yeah. Went to pay our respects to Dozer, and she was standing at his grave.”

Kayla’s eyes slide closed. “Shit. Was that today? I’ve been so busy. No wonder she was a basket case.”

I don’t like hearing those words. Taylor has always been so strong in my eyes. “Is there something else?” I ask. “Something you’re not telling me?”

“There’s a lot I’m not telling you. Whether you ever deserve to know depends on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the proof is in the pudding. We’ll see if you stick around long enough to find out.”

“I hate when women talk in riddles,” I mutter.

“One thing you are not, Josh Colton, is stupid. You’ll figure it out.”

With that, she walks away. Mama taught me well when a woman uses your full God-given name you better shape up.

I haven’t been called Josh in years.

She turns and looks over her shoulder. “Maybe this time you won’t give up on her.”

I feel that blow like a fist to my chest. Guilty as charged.

This time I am not giving up on her.