Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
WALKER
The street fair with all the fucking fairy lights, the faux snow-dusted, red-and-green stall coverings, the winter-bundled customers, and the smell of crisp, smoky air, mulled wine, and hot doughnuts should have put me in a good mood.
I was not above being moved by how fucking quaint and idyllic my new home was at Christmas.
But right now, it was a vehicle of torture.
An excuse to watch Sloane like a prick of a stalker.
Her stall was set up between all the others. An array of baked goods I knew tasted almost as good as the woman who’d baked them. Callie stood at her side, adorable as ever, all bundled up in her hat and scarf.
I should walk away.
I was acting like a fool.
But I missed her. I missed them both.
And it had only been days since she told me it was over. Yesterday, she’d looked right through me in Brodan’s kitchen.
It felt like fucking years.
I’d gone to Brodan’s to tell him the news about Byron Hoffman.
Sloane had fled the house before we could talk, so Brodan had relayed the information to her on the phone last night.
Which meant I couldn’t even be there to see her relief when the news broke that Byron Hoffman faced charges of sexual assault from several women and a lengthy legal battle.
One last asshole she had to worry about.
I wondered how she took that news. If it brought up the attack all those months ago.
If she needed someone to hold her and protect her from bad dreams.
Knowing that person wouldn’t be me fucking killed.
The ache in my chest was so bad I rubbed at it through my winter jacket.
Maybe it’s heartburn, I lied to myself as I stood near the coffee van, hidden by the many people who’d come out to enjoy Ardnoch’s annual Christmas street fair.
Last year, I’d shown up with a woman I’d slept with the previous night and couldn’t get rid of.
I’d noted Sloane’s disappointment when she saw her, recognized it for what it was.
And pretended like I didn’t feel the same attraction to her as she did to me.
All that time wasted, and it was only months. How could Brodan bear the weight of eighteen lost years between him and Monroe?
I stiffened at the sight of a familiar figure approaching Sloane’s stall. His son accompanied him.
Haydyn Barr.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I bobbed my head, probably looking like a lunatic, trying to see past everybody who cut across my view of them.
A few minutes passed, and he was still at her stall.
Prick.
“Is this helping?”
“Fuck,” I bit out, more shocked than anything that Brodan had taken me by surprise.
I couldn’t remember the last time someone crept up on me.
Glowering at the smirk on my friend’s face, I glanced down at the cup of coffee he held out. Reluctantly, I took it. “Where’s your wife and son?”
“Enjoying the fair. I saw you lurking in the shadows, stalking Sloane, and felt the need to intervene.”
“I don’t lurk.” I took a sip of my coffee, eyes returning to Sloane.
“Then you’re doing an excellent imitation of it.” Brodan followed my gaze and scowled. “Och, c’mon. You’re not going to let that arsehole fawn all over her, are you? First Roe, now Sloane. I don’t bloody think so.”
Sloane was smiling at the bastard in a way I hated. Like I didn’t exist. “He’s a better choice for her.”
“Stop being a martyr.” Brodan stepped into my line of vision, expression annoyed. “Be honest with yourself. You want to kill him and any man who goes near her. Or am I wrong and you can actually stand the idea of Barr taking Sloane to his bed?”
Fury rose in me, and I clenched my hand around my coffee. “Watch yourself, Brodan.”
“Considering you manipulated me and Roe into spending time together, I think this little intervention is letting you off easy.” Brodan leaned into me. “Do you actually want Sloane to date Barr?”
I glanced past Brodan and witnessed Sloane laughing at something the wanker said. “I want to rip his fucking face off.”
Brodan chuckled humorlessly. “And considering you’ve been trained to maim and kill a man in a hundred different ways, I almost pity Barr.
But I’ll pity you more, Walk, if you let whatever prideful thing is standing in your way get between you and what you want.
Fix this. Before you lose her for good. Believe the man who wasted eighteen years of his life without the woman he loves …
whatever the problem is, it isn’t worth being without her.
” He clapped me on the shoulder, hard, and then walked away to find his family.
His words knotted in my gut as my attention returned to Sloane and Barr.
For the first time in a long time, I was truly afraid.
Of not being enough for her. I already failed her with Andros.
I’d failed Callie too. If Sloane knew about my past, she’d know she wasn’t the first I’d failed.
She’d know the thing I was most ashamed of.
And I couldn’t bear for her to look at me the way I looked at myself.
The missed calls, three of them, sat unanswered on my phone from the past week. Missed calls from my mum. Because as much as I thought I was ready to take them … Like confiding in Sloane, the thought terrified me. And I was afraid to be terrified. So I ignored her calls.
Like I refused to tell Sloane about my family.
But could I bear to lose her like I lost them without trying? Without trusting that maybe she’d think better of me than I thought of myself?
So lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t realized Sloane had left Callie at the stall with Regan and Eilidh until I saw her heading toward me. Toward the coffee van.
She wore a cream knit beanie hat over her long hair, her cheeks pink with cold. Her winter boots flashed beneath the long skirts of her dress and her cream winter coat hung open, a heavy knit scarf the only thing between her and the winter air.
Beautiful, I thought.
Had I told her that enough?
Her gaze moved up from the ground and met mine.
Sloane halted in the middle of the bustling crowd, the color leaching from her cheeks.
Then she abruptly turned and headed back toward the stall.
To avoid me.
To get away from me.
My hands clenched at my sides, and I took a step forward before I stopped myself.
Was this how it was to be, then? To bump into her on the street and have her treat me like a stranger? Like how it was with my parents?
The thought wrecked me.
I walked away before I did something impulsive. On instinct. Without thinking.
I couldn’t do that with Sloane. With Callie. I had to know for certain what I was capable of giving because they were the last people on earth I ever wanted to hurt.