Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dylan sat back and considered the question.
Willow’s eyes stared unblinking at him—just like Thunder’s—like she could see right into him.
He turned away with a half-smile. The line-dance band started up again, and he could suggest they go back and dance, but it wouldn’t be good for Willow’s leg. Wouldn’t be good for him, holding her close to him. Instead, he said, “What do you mean, what really happened to me?”
She brushed over his flippancy and said, “I don’t know—you’re back, but you don’t seem to sleep in the house; you’re traveling the globe in search of answers to the past; you live in a van, you’re not married?—”
“You’re not married either.”
She raised her brows at his deflection. “You just don’t seem like the same guy who smashed up my dad’s truck with a baseball bat!” She laughed as she said it as though the idea now was crazy.
Dylan laughed, too, more as a distraction than anything.
He wasn’t entirely sure how to answer her.
He thought of sitting on Starlight Mountain at four in the morning staring down at the ranch.
Thought of the look Emmett Carter gave him when he saw Willow on his property.
Thought of all the years of living in that godforsaken house.
She shook her head, eyes all soft with apology as she clearly sensed his hesitancy. “I should never have asked. I’m sorry.”
He realized how much easier it was to hide behind the feud that had separated their families.
Ruled by that unspoken law that meant they weren’t allowed to talk to each other.
It had suited him fine. But he found, as she looked at him—with confusion and concern in her eyes—and as he remembered the disgust on her father’s face, that he wanted to talk to her.
He did care, more than he wanted to, what she thought of him.
But it wasn’t easy. He wanted to get up and walk out of the bar and maybe go check on Thunder.
He took a sip of beer. Put the bottle down, said, “I’m not proud of what I did to that truck.”
Willow waved it away as if it were nothing, straightening her T-shirt that kept slipping off her shoulder when she moved. “It was a long time ago.”
He toyed with the bottle in his hands. He saw that time of his life in images in his head, like a comic strip.
Quick and flat and black and white. Sounds he tried to block out; shouts and screams, broken plates and upturned chairs, cigarette burns and sobbing.
He turned the bottle round, looked at the brown glass.
“Willow, I don’t know what you know about my dad, but he wasn’t the kindest of characters. ”
She didn’t say anything. Dylan knew her opinion of his dad, he’d seen her that day when she’d been hiding in the doorway as his father insulted hers.
Seen the fear and the anger in her eyes when she’d come running over, seen the distaste.
It’d made him hang his head, look down at the grit and gravel of the Silver Sky Ranch, wishing he could just walk straight on back to the car, drive himself away.
“When we were growing up, if he thought we were misbehaving, he would beat us something bad.” Willow’s eyes widened. Dylan shrugged. “We were pretty unruly boys, we probably deserved it some of the time.”
“Dylan, I don’t think anyone ever deserves—” Willow started to defend him, but he waved his hand.
“Either way, it happened and it was hard. My brother, he took a lot of the brunt of it. And my mom.” He ran his hand through his hair, sat back against the soft booth seat, glanced up again for a second at the coasters on the ceiling, their colors muted over time.
“Problem was, it stopped being just when he thought we’d done something wrong.
It could be anytime, for anything. We were living every day just doing everything we could to protect each other, and especially protecting my little sister, Ruby, she was so young and innocent. ”
Willow leaned forward a little. “Dylan, I’m sorry.”
He shook his head because he didn’t want the sympathy.
“But then Tyler got picked up by the cops. He was so messed up, he was out causing whatever trouble he could, and when he went, that was bad. If nothing else, it lessened our numbers at home. My mom didn’t cope well at all.
She seemed to lose her fight, it was like she suddenly woke up and saw what her life had become.
To be honest with you, I reckon leaving Emmett for Dad was probably the biggest mistake she ever made.
Well, I mean it definitely was, because she told my dad it was!
” He hated thinking about his mom at that time; remembered her crying; remembered seeing her bruises, watching her eyes gradually lose their shine.
“But then there’d have been none of your brothers and the music world would be a sadder place. ” He smiled wryly.
Willow was clearly trying not to smile back. “Stop it,” she warned.
Dylan laughed, had a swig of beer, felt a bit easier now he’d started.
He wondered who else he’d ever told about this.
Maybe one or two people, that was it. “Thing about my dad was he could be as nice as anything—could charm people into giving him whatever he wanted—but he had one heck of a temper and if you crossed that…” He blew out a breath. “That was when things got terrifying.”
He glanced up to see Willow watching him with her big eyes and her dark lashes, mouth parted with concern. “Do you think that’s why he went after the ranch, because of what your mom said?”
“Almost definitely.” Dylan could suddenly see moments of the past playing out in his head.
It made him shift in his seat, couldn’t get comfortable.
“Once my mom threw Emmett’s name out there, how her life would have been better with him, my dad just grabbed hold of that.
I’d never seen him like it before. He was on a mission to bring Emmett down, and he almost did it.
Problem was, only thing my dad liked more than getting his own way was money.
I don’t know how much Logan paid in the end, but I tell you, it would have taken a heck of a lot for my dad to say yes.
” He sighed, sitting back again, stretching his legs under the table.
Willow winced, remembering it all herself, he imagined. “Maybe he realized he had a better way to hurt him?” she said. “My dad’s a pretty proud man, and everyone knows that. He got him good in the end.”
Dylan nodded. “Yes, he did.” Remembering the glee in his father’s eyes when he told Emmett that his son had paid his debts. Remembered watching, frozen with fear when his dad’s fist slammed into Emmett’s face. Knew what it felt like, knew it was impossible to fight back.
The line dancing finished, and the bar filled up again with people all hyped from the session, laughing and calling out to one another. The barman turned the music up. They could hear the crack of the balls on the pool table.
Dylan found it suddenly suffocating. He finished his beer and said, “You want to get out of here?”