Exile

Chapter 4

DARWYNN

I was still in his house.

Even after he threatened that I wouldn’t last long around him, I was still there.

And he even made me tea.

Well, sort of. He’d slapped a mug of hot water in front of me, along with a dusty box of tea bags. Then he’d retreated to his armchair, telling me to “help myself.”

Caspian sat back, arms crossed and gaze sharp as usual.

He was intimidating in a quiet, grumpy way, his presence heavy in this small, cluttered room.

“So,”

he said, his deep voice breaking the silence, “what do you do?”

I blinked at him. “For work?”

He nodded.

“I used to work the front desk at a bank.”

“Used to?”

“I quit before I went on my road trip,”

I explained with a tight smile.

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t what I wanted to do. It didn’t really make me happy. It got hard waking up every morning.”

“So you quit to do, what, find motivation on that trip?”

I shrugged. “Kinda. I mostly just wanted to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life.”

“And now you’re here.”

I nodded. I already told him the story of how I ended up here.

“Did you figure it out? What do you want to do with your life once you return home?”

Pursing my lips, I lifted the mug to hold it, warming my palms. “Not really.”

“So that trip was a waste of money and time.”

“Definitely not. This trip was amazing. I met many cool people, saw so many new things, and captured everything with my phone, too.”

I smiled, and my body eased. “It was the best trip I ever went on.”

He studied me, his thick brows furrowed. He didn’t reply right away. There was something unreadable in his gaze, something that made my skin tingle. He looked like he didn’t believe me. His gaze softened when he said, “You’ve got the rest of your life to figure out what you want.”

I nodded before taking a careful sip of my tea. The liquid burned on my tongue and down my throat, and all of a sudden, my body felt hot. I felt tense and had no idea how to deal with that feeling.

As I kept my eyes on him, I tried to figure out how to continue the conversation. Caspian didn’t look away from me, and it seemed he was trying to do the same.

He cleared his throat, then asked, “You said you don’t have family left. What about a boyfriend? You got one?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Just me.”

“No kids either, then.”

I gave him a flat look. “I’m twenty-one.”

“So?”

He raised a brow at me. “I was twenty when your mother was born. And she wasn’t much older either when she had you.”

Touché.

Mom was, in fact, twenty when she had me as well.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I gave another tight smile. “But, no, I don’t have kids. Or a boyfriend.”

“Smart,”

he muttered, taking another sip of coffee.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that, sometimes, you’re better off alone.”

“Like you?”

He scoffed. “I haven’t been alone all my life. I think I deserve to be alone for once.”

“Fair enough.”

I leaned back on the couch, getting more comfortable as more minutes passed. “And what do you do all day, all alone?”

“I mind my business,”

he said bluntly.

“That sounds…exciting.”

“Works for me,”

he said with a shrug. “Not everyone needs to be entertained every second of the day.”

I didn’t press him. He didn’t want to open up, and I wasn’t about to push my luck.

“So then…”

I said, forcing a casual tone. “Can you tell me what people around here do for fun at night?”

“Fun?”

He snorted as if the concept of it was foreign to this village.

“Yes, fun,”

I said, giving him an expectant look.

He sighed, leaning forward again to rest his elbows on his knees. “The locals go to the bar. They play pool. Drink. That’s about it.”

“Do you go?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t enjoy sitting around listening to half-drunk idiots argue over who gets to break first.”

“Fair point. I might go. Check out what the locals are like. Unless you say they’re all like Theresa. Then I won’t go.”

That got a laugh out of him.

A real one.

Then his expression went back to serious. The grump was back.

“Theresa’s a witch. But she’s a good friend.”

“That’s not how I would want to be talked about by a friend,”

I said honestly, pursing my lips. I set the mug back on the coffee table in front of me.

He didn’t respond; he just watched me as I got up and put on my brown leather jacket. His gaze felt heavy, and when I glanced back at him, his eyes were locked on mine, intense and merciless.

“What?” I asked.

“You think I’m an asshole.”

That came as a surprise.

I turned toward him and shook my head. That wasn’t what I thought of him. He was grumpy, in a bad mood, and kind of dry. But he wasn’t an asshole. “I think that you think you’re an asshole.”

His furrowed brows softened, and my words made him think.

I smiled, wanting to leave him with that. Think about what I said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the bar?”

I asked, my voice softer now.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze trailing from my face to my hand as I adjusted my jacket. The room felt smaller, and the air charged with something I couldn’t quite name.

“No,”

he said finally, his voice lower than before.

I forced a smile. “All right. Can I come see you again tomorrow? Or do you want to grab lunch with me?”

It was a simple suggestion to spend more time together and for him not to be alone. Even if that’s what he supposedly wanted.

“Maybe.”

That was a step in the direction I wanted. “Great. I’ll just come knock on your door again around noon. Thanks for the tea, Grandpa.”

“Don’t call me that,”

he muttered, his eyes still on me.

“But you are—”

I stopped myself. “Never mind. Thank you, Caspian.”

The weight of his stare followed me as I walked to the door, my heart pounding for reasons I couldn’t explain.

“Close the door on your way out,”

he said, his voice rough.

I nodded and stepped out onto the porch. As I closed the door behind me, I stood there for a little while, unable to get rid of that feeling that pulled me to him.

There was something about Caspian.

Even when he pushed me away, I felt…attracted to his being.

***

The bar was exactly what I’d imagined.

The place was dimly lit, with dark wooden floors and the faint smell of stale beer lingering in the air. A jukebox in one corner hummed out old rock songs, and a group of locals stood around the pool table, talking loudly.

I glanced around and decided to sit at the bar. I ordered some fries and a large Pepsi.

As I sipped my drink, I let myself relax, leaning back to take in the scene. The bartender, a cheerful woman in her fifties, had been polite but not overly chatty, leaving me to observe the peace.

Though, that peace didn’t last long.

“Well, well, look who decided to stop by,”

a male voice said.

I turned to see Henry, the general store owner. He leaned casually against the bar, giving me a charming smile. He wore a flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, his brown hair slightly ruffled like he’d been working all day. There was a playful gleam in his blue eyes, sparkling with mischief.

“Hey, Henry,”

I said, offering a polite smile.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,”

he said, sliding onto the stool beside mine without an invitation. “Thought you’d be hiding in that little house, writing poetry or whatever the city girls do when they come out here.”

I wanted to frown at him.

Men who assumed things about me annoyed me.

But I was just a guest in this tiny village filled with people who probably knew each other very well and talked to each other about any outsider, and I didn’t want to make a bad name for myself.

I smiled tightly. “Not much of a poet, I’m afraid. Besides, I wanted to see what the locals here do on a Friday night.”

He chuckled. “Good choice. This place may not look like much, but it grows on you.”

He waved at the bartender, who nodded and started pouring him a beer.

“You come here often, then?”

I asked, putting another fry in my mouth.

“Often enough,”

he said with a shrug. “Most Fridays, for sure.”

“Cool.”

He got his beer and tipped his chin at me. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

I watched him take a few sips, then he grinned at me again.

“So, how are you liking our little slice of nowhere?”

I liked that description. “It’s nice. Quieter than I’m used to. But I like it a lot.”

“That’s good. Hopefully, the reason why you’re here won’t scare you away.”

I frowned and looked at him. Was he talking about Caspian?

He said the words so casually, but his voice had a hint of annoyance.

His laugh was dry. “Theresa told me who you are. And who Caspian is to you.”

“Right,”

I breathed. “Word travels fast around here, huh?”

“It does in every tiny village with just about two hundred population.”

I took a deep breath. My chest was stinging when he mentioned Caspian, and I wondered what he was doing right now. All alone in his house by the water.

Henry leaned closer, watching me closely as I kept frowning. “Listen, Darwynn, I know you’re here to connect with your grandfather, but I think you should be careful.”

“Careful? Why?”

Henry studied me, his brow raising. “Because Caspian King isn’t just some grumpy guy who wants to be left alone. And he’s definitely not the hero Theresa says he is.”

He hadn’t said much, but I wanted him to shut up.

“He’s my grandfather. I’m just trying to get to know him because I never got the chance to.”

“And I think it’s best for you to just leave him alone and not dig deeper. He’s not worth it.”

God, was he always this obnoxious?

I tried to keep the anger that was rising inside of me hidden.

I wanted to ask him to leave me alone, to go and talk to other people, but I wasn’t brave enough. My nails dug into my thigh, and my annoyance grew.

“Not sure why you would even give him a chance. As much as I understood from what Theresa told me, he's never been around. He’s old and bitter.”

“And you’ll be sorry and hurt if you don’t get the fuck away from her.”

Chills ran down my whole body as Caspian’s raspy, deep voice sounded behind us. I turned my head to look at him and saw Henry’s posture stiffen out of the corner of my eye.

“Caz, old man, I didn’t—”

“Get away from her.”

Henry’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Caspian’s glare was sharp, and the weight of his presence seemed to fill the entire bar.

Nobody cared that he was here, though. Nobody but me.

When Henry finally left, letting out the heaviest, most dramatic sigh, I looked up at Caspian and smiled. “You didn’t have to do that,”

I said, my voice quiet but steady.

He turned to me, his brown eyes locking onto mine. “Yes, I did.”

I bit my cheek, unable to hold back a grin. “You came. Why?”

Without giving me a response, he sat down on the stool Henry had been sitting on earlier, and without having to ask for one, a glass of whiskey was set in front of him.

I chewed on my bottom lip as I tried to understand why he was there. Why he had changed his mind. He had seemed pretty confident to me that he wouldn’t show up here tonight.

“If there’s one person I want you to stay away from in this village, it’s Henry. He’s a dick.”

Huh, wouldn’t have guessed.

I reached for my drink and took a long sip before setting it back on the counter. “Only to you or to everyone?”

He raised a brow at me, silently telling me to give myself the answer to that question. “Got it. Only to you. Why? Did you two have an argument or something?”

“No.”

He fell silent again, and I watched him as I finished my fries.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk about Henry and wasn’t the type of person who opened up easily. So I wasn’t going to push him. I decided to change the subject instead.

“So,”

I said after a while, “do you always swoop in like a knight in shining armor, or was that just for me?”

He gave a low chuckle, the sound surprising me. “I’m not a knight. Trust me.”

“You’re right. You’re a king.”

I pursed my lips. “Powerful and honest.”

And handsome. “You lack communication skills, which is crucial to being a leader.”

“I’m not a leader, either.”

This time, there was no humor in his tone. His lips were tight when his eyes met mine. “Don’t read too much into it. I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea from someone who doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Henry’s full of shit.”

I nodded. “Well, thanks, anyway.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable.

If anything, it felt…natural. Like it had earlier in his living room.