Epilogue
Hayes
June.
My sister’s stunned silence was something I never expected.
I stole a glance at Margo, who was head banging in her tiny kitchen to a metal band she’d discovered two days ago.
She’d already listened to both of their albums and said we had to go to their concert in Seattle at the end of October.
Though I had no interest in this band, I had every intention of making her happy.
Therefore, I bought two front-row tickets as a late graduation gift.
She was officially done with school, and I’d never forget the bright smile on her face as she accepted her diploma, shaking Professor Ashley’s hand, her shoulders squared and proud.
The entire family had been there, the Buoy and Rossy’s had closed for the day, and Jake had brought a damn blow horn.
When she left the stage, she didn’t return to her seat.
Instead, she ran straight into Rossy’s open arms. I watched with pride as the old man hugged her tightly, voicing his own pride to her, and before she ran back to her seat, she hooked her arms around my neck and demanded I kiss her.
So I did.
I would be spending the rest of my days kissing my angry girl. Anytime she needed me to.
“Dela?” I called, turning to the window.
The summer was high, shining down the Columbia River and the ocean beyond.
The sunlight danced on top of the waves, seagulls flying above, the fishermen on the docks arguing with each other over bait.
In the parking lot, Joey was standing close to Rachel, his hand on her cheek as she stared up at him with hope shining in her eyes.
“I’m here,” my sister whispered.
“Are you good with those terms?” I pressed.
After things settled down, Margo probed me about my family, and without hesitation, I gave her the truth.
My father hadn’t been a good man, husband, or father.
He was a narcissist, and after twenty years of dealing with his shit, taking the brunt of his abusive words, I left home.
Aside from the handful of times I’d come back to visit, I never stayed.
Dad and I would clash, and the last time, he swung at me.
Though he didn’t get very far with his fist, the act of my own father trying to harm me was enough for me to cut the cord for good.
Dela, my sweet baby sister, had been blind to his lies and manipulations, and there was nothing I could do to get her to see the truth.
She wanted us to be a family again but failed to realize that we had never been a happy family.
She and I had been dealt a bad hand, and I’d chosen to leave the game.
He would have to push her to her limits, and until that happened, until she saw the truth, all I could do was wait.
I’d been preparing for that day for quite some time, but it hadn’t come yet.
Our father’s talons were deep into her. Still, I loved her.
Which is why it didn’t take much convincing from Margo to let Dela back into my life—with boundaries, of course.
“Yes,” she answered faintly before clearing her throat. “Yes, I’m good with those terms.”
“Great,” I said, looking over my shoulder at Margo. She was shaking her ass to a guitar solo while straining the pasta noodles. “I was thinking I could fly you and Lucy out for the Fourth of July. You two could meet Margo, see the new offices, and watch the fireworks at Gray’s place.”
Her voice was trembling then. “That sounds wonderful, Hayes. We’d love that.”
I tore my eyes from the sea, my chest tightening. “Great. I’ll, uh…I’ll pick out some flight options and send them over to you.”
“Great.” She paused, the hesitation evident. “I can’t wait to meet Margo. She sounds like the perfect woman for you, Hayes.”
I smiled. “Yeah, Dela, she really is.”
A few minutes later, I ended the call on a good note, and my weight on my shoulders felt a little lighter.
Moving into the kitchen, I found my woman mixing the pasta salad together.
“Everything go well?” she yelled over the drum solo.
I reached for her phone and paused the music.
“Dammit, Top Gun. That was the best fucking part!”
My lips twitched as I leaned back against the wall next to the yellow phone. “Yeah, baby, the call went well. Better than I expected, actually.”
She stopped mixing and came to me, snaking her tattooed arms around my waist, her black sundress dotted with tiny white daisies shifting around her thighs. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
I enveloped her and buried my face in her neck, inhaling her Jasmine scent. “Fuck, family shit stresses me out.”
She hummed. “Tell me about it. If I don’t get this pasta salad recipe right, Sarah will definitely be firing me.”
“Rossy won’t let that happen,” I countered, kissing her jaw before pulling away on a chuckle. “Why can’t Sarah make the pasta salad?”
She rolled her eyes and stepped back, swooping her black locks back into an elegant twist. I watched as she held her hair together with one hand and searched the kitchen for a pen. “On the windowsill, my love,” I told her softly, eyeing the lime green pen.
“Ooh! Thanks.”
Once her hair was secured, she wrapped up the bowl and said, “Sarah lost all pasta salad duties because her greedy-ass husband will eat it all before we get there.”
I raised a brow. “That’s Humbly’s weakness? Pasta salad?”
She scoffed. “Lose that high and mighty attitude, my guy. Your weakness is my snickerdoodles.”
I scratched my jaw. “No, you are, beautiful.”
That earned me another eye roll. “Come on,” she sighed, slipping her black sandals on, “we’re going to be late, and I don’t need Rossy spilling his tea because he is anxiously pacing back and forth in front of the espresso bar.”
Fifteen minutes later, Margo was taking coffee orders while Sarah and Carrie did crowd control.
Today was the first annual Astoria Book Festival.
Main Street had been blocked off and lined with tables, two chairs each. There were about thirty authors all from the PNW area in attendance, with a few other vendors sprinkled throughout. Red Snake was in charge of security, working with Sheriff Humbly’s crew.
My eyes slid over the large buffet of food on the opposite side of the store reserved for us, the authors, vendors, and volunteers working on the event. Grayson and Carrie had gone all out, per usual, but everyone contributed something.
“What can I get for you?” Margo asked a customer as Carrie, Sarah, Humbly, and my team came inside.
I jerked my chin up in greeting, shaking hands with Humbly.
Rossy finally emerged from the back room, casting a worried glance out the windows.
When the customer went back outside, iced coffee in hand, the old man adjusted his glasses and looked at Sarah. “All good?”
“Yes.” She beamed, lacing her fingers with her husband’s. “This is working out better than we’d hoped, Rossy!”
“Yeah, we absolutely need to do this every summer, boss man. It’s good for business,” Margo added. I shot her a wink from my place at the end of the bar. Everyone else seemed to migrate toward it and conversations started to flow.
“Well, Frank said he’d be up for doing another signing with his fall release, but his publisher is on the fence about him doing another book tour,” Carrie explained.
“Why?” Jake asked with a furrowed brow as Margo handed him his second coffee of the day.
“Well, usually pub houses are supposed to pay for book tours, but more often than not, that comes out of the author’s pocket,” Sarah answered.
Humbly’s walkie went off, alerting all of us.
“We got a heckler down by Margie’s. Over.”
“Duty calls,” Dominic drawled and then he, Humbly, and Jake headed back out.
“You want anything, Ash?” Margo called, wiping down the espresso machine.
He shot her a smile, and just as he opened his mouth to answer, the bell above the door rang, signaling a new customer.
He clamped his mouth shut and shifted, no longer blocking the view.
From my place, I saw my friend stiffen, his back straightening, his shoulders going rigid as his eyes landed on the woman who had just stepped inside.
She was tall. Maybe an inch taller than Margo.
She wore a baby pink tank top and a long white skirt, and brown sandals laced over the tops of her feet.
A large brown leather bag was hooked over her shoulder.
Her brunette hair hung in loose waves just past her shoulders, framing her oval-shaped face.
Her skin was warm, sun-kissed, and covered with freckles, but her honey eyes were what grabbed my attention.
My brows slowly came together as chatter from the group died down, the air in the bookstore shifting as something dangerous radiated off my friend.
Something tugged at my memory, a chill swooping down my spine.
“Ash?” Carrie whispered. “You okay?”
He said nothing, staring at the woman as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Welcome to Rossy’s!” Margo chirped, moving to the front of the bar, oblivious to the pain seeping from Ash. “Are you here for air conditioning or coffee?”
The woman’s eyes landed on Margo’s and her dark pink lips stretched into a wide smile.
Ash jerked back at the sight.
What the hell?
Gray and I shot each other a glance, both of us on the move.
But by the time we got to Doss, it was too late.
The woman’s honey eyes had landed on him, recognition sparking.
She gripped her purse tighter, sucking in a sharp breath.
My head turned to her and then back to Ash as I came around his side, finally getting a good look. Fuck.
His rough features were painted with devastation and pain, and the color drained from his face.
“You,” he pushed out gruffly. I could tell he was trying to be gentle, but the emotion clinging to his voice wasn’t allowing him to do so. The woman had all but backed herself into the window display, trembling.
I lifted my hand to her. “Hey, it’s okay.”