19. Sam
19
SAM
The shop is too quiet.
Usually, by this time of night, Trick would be cracking jokes as we close up, Hugo would be leaning into some dry remark, and I’d be pretending to scowl while secretly enjoying the chaos. Right now, though, we’re all dawdling. I’ve been going back and forth, cleaning, trying to figure out how to say what’s on my mind. Hugo is leaning on the wall like he thinks he’s holding it up. Trick’s toying with a tattoo gun.
This ain’t normal.
Tonight, there’s just this heavy, suffocating silence. And I know it’s on me to break it. That’s what I do. I’m the one who breaks bad news or handles a tough call. I’m the guy who does the bad thing for the good reasons. In some ways, that makes this easier.
But nothing will make it easy.
I’ve been pacing for what feels like forever, trying to find the right words to say, but there’s no easy way to do this. No way to sugarcoat the truth or soften the blow. Finally, I stop in the middle of the room, my arms folded, and let out a slow, steady breath.
“We can’t do this.”
Hugo looks up from where he’s leaning against the wall, his expression unreadable. Trick stops fiddling with the tattoo gun, his brows furrowing.
“Do what?” Trick asks. He’s gonna make me spell it out because he wants me to squirm. He wants to drag this out so he can poke holes in my theory.
Fine. I’ll do what I have to do to make them see the ugly truth.
“This,” I say, gesturing vaguely to the room. To the chair where Marie sat just hours ago, her laughter still echoing in my mind. To the space she’s left behind, the one I already feel like I can’t fill. “Us with Marie. We can’t…we can’t pursue her.”
The words are just air, but they feel like a semitruck rolling into us, and the following silence is even worse.
Trick frowns, his confusion giving way to disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”
Hugo straightens up, his arms crossing over his chest as his eyes narrow. “Why not?”
I let out a long, heavy breath, running a hand through my hair. “Because it’s not fair. To her. Or to Preacher.”
“Preacher?” Hugo repeats, raising an eyebrow. “What does he have to do with this?”
“Everything, and you know it,” I say sharply, meeting his gaze. “You know how protective he is of her. You saw how freaked out he was just because she wasn’t home on time when Crow came around. What do you think he’d do if he found out what happened tonight?”
“He’d be pissed,” Trick says reluctantly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I get that. But come on, Sam. She’s not a child. He’d get over it, wouldn’t he? Eventually?”
I shake my head, my stomach twisting at the thought. “This isn’t just about him being mad, Trick. This is about what it would do to him, and to them . She’s his daughter. His only kid that we know of, and after losing his ex-wife…you saw what that did to him, and they were just exes. And we’re…” I trail off, gesturing between the three of us. “We’re supposed to be his friends. His brothers in arms. ”
Hugo scoffs, the sound low and dismissive. “Give him more credit than that. Preacher’s not some saint, Sam. The guy’s lived a life. He knows we’ve all made mistakes. So has he.”
“This wasn’t a mistake,” I say firmly.
I will never couch it as a mistake. What happened tonight…it’s a mark on my soul. I don’t know how exactly, but something in me changed tonight. Even still, Preacher has been there for each of us in good times and in bad. We owe him more loyalty than to disrupt his relationship with his daughter.
I continue, “But it would be a problem if he found out and it ruined everything for him. He’s not just protective, Hugo. He’s…” I pause, searching for the right word. “He’s a dad. When it comes to Marie, he doesn’t just see her as an adult. He sees her as his little girl.”
“She is an adult,” Hugo says, his voice sharp. “And she made an adult decision. Why is that our problem?”
“Because we know better,” I snap, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
Hugo’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing. “You think you’re doing her a favor by treating her like a child?”
“I think I’m doing her a favor by not putting her in an impossible position,” I shoot back. “This isn’t just about Preacher. It’s about her. ”
Trick shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting between me and Hugo. “What about her?”
“I won’t pretend that tonight was anything but amazing.” I exhale slowly, my chest tightening. “But what do you think people are going to say if they find out what happened?”
“They won’t find out,” Hugo says, his tone matter-of-fact. “This was between us.”
“This is Auclair. Everyone knows everyone, and people talk. You think they’re going to give her a pass? You think the church crowd or the library board is going to just shrug it off? They’ll eat her alive for this. And not just her—they’ll judge Preacher for it too.” I swallow. “I might as well have branded a big letter A on her chest instead of a tiny black cat tattoo on her calf…”
“Now you’re being dramatic,” Hugo says, eyes rolling.
“Maybe I am. But the point stands.” I pause, my throat tightening as I force the words out. “This is a small southern town. The folks here are traditional. Preacher…that’s who he is to his soul. He can’t start over just because his daughter had a good time one night. And Marie? She loves that job. It’s not just a paycheck for her—it’s who she is. All those books, helping people, doing…whatever else it is she does there. Do you think she’ll want to stick around Auclair if people start whispering whenever she enters a room? If she loses her job at the only library in town, what’s she supposed to do with her skills and degree? Hall monitor?”
Trick snorts at the joke, but his laugh dies quickly, replaced by a quiet sigh. “You’re saying we’d ruin her life if we don’t back off.”
I nod, my stomach churning. “I’m saying we can’t be selfish about this. We can’t put what we want ahead of what’s best for her.”
Hugo’s smirk fades, replaced by something darker, sharper. He steps closer, his gaze locked on mine. “You don’t think we’re what’s best for her?”
“Do you?”
“Of course.” Fucking Hugo. Always so cocksure of himself. He never second-guesses what he does.
I love the guy, but I wish he’d act like a human sometimes. My throat tightens, and I have to force myself to hold his gaze. “Truth is, I don’t think it matters what I think. It matters what she thinks.”
“And you think she doesn’t want this?”
“You saw how she bolted out of here when no one texted her,” Trick points out. “You think that didn’t mean something?”
Hugo pauses. “It’s her choice who she spends time with. No one else’s.”
I hesitate, because I don’t want to argue with them. I hate being at odds with Hugo and Trick. They’re my team. Have been for going on two decades, maybe more. When we disagree, it’s more than uncomfortable. It doesn’t sit with me on some deeper level. Like going against my instincts.
“I think…” I sigh, trying to come up with the words to say. The ones I don’t want to say. “I think she doesn’t know what she wants yet. And that’s okay. But we need to give her the space to figure it out. Without us getting in the way.”
Hugo stares at me for a long moment, his expression again unreadable. “And if she comes calling, what then?”
That’s what I’m worried about. I know what led up to tonight for me and for the guys. But I don’t know how things are in her mind. What led up to it for her? Was it just a game for her? A wild night to get out of her system before she settles down with some asshole like Danny Brooker?
Might have been.
But what if it was more than that for her? When Trick asked about her intentions, she made it sound as if she wanted something more. And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing right now.
The thought makes my blood go tepid. I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Fine,” Hugo says, his voice clipped. “But don’t expect me to like it.”
Trick lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the counter. “Man, this sucks,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “But I guess you’re right. I really wanted you to be wrong, I gotta say.”
“So did I,” I say with a shrug. “But doing the math…this adds up to problems in every direction. We have to do the right thing.”
Hugo snorts a laugh. “Hard to imagine us doing the right thing when there are so many more fun options.”
“You are not wrong,” Trick says, smirking. But his expression fades fast when he looks up at me. “I hate this, boss.”
Their words hit me harder than I expect, and for a moment, I can’t bring myself to say anything. I don’t want this. I don’t want to let her go. But the thought of her losing everything—her job, her home, her sense of belonging, her only family—because of us?
I can’t live with that. And neither should she. The shop feels colder now, the silence more suffocating than before. I glance at the chair where she sat earlier, her laughter still echoing in my mind, and I take a slow, steady breath.
At least her laughter won’t leave me. My only souvenir of the best night of my life.
“I don’t like it either,” I say softly. “But it’s the right thing to do.”
Even if it feels like it’s tearing me apart.