Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
MILES
Just as we were getting ready to leave Sunday dinner, my phone rang.
When I pulled it out, I saw the call was coming from Fiddlers, which was strange because the only time I’d ever gotten a direct call from Blue was when the Murphy brothers were there causing trouble.
But this wasn’t their usual hour, weekend nights weren’t really their style. They preferred mid-week, day drinking.
So why was she calling me now? Especially knowing I wasn’t on duty.
“Let me take this,” I said, backing away from the group as everyone was saying their goodbyes. “Hello?”
“Hey, Miles,” Blue whispered. Her voice was low, almost hesitant. “I’m sorry to call you, I know you’re not on duty. But… do you think you could come down here?”
My posture straightened immediately. “Is everything okay?”
“I… I don’t know. Nothing major has happened, but there’s this guy here having some drinks. He’s from out of town, which isn’t weird, but… he keeps asking if I know who you are.”
“Did you get his name?”
“I tried to, but before I could, he knocked over two glasses of beer. Smashed them right on the bar and glass and foam went everywhere. I had to clean it up. And honestly? It didn’t feel like an accident. It felt deliberate.”
“Alright. I’ll head down,” I said, already turning toward the door. I glanced up to find my family no longer chatting but quietly watching me, concern written all over their faces. “But I’m out at my grandparents’, so it’ll take me about thirty minutes.”
I hung up and slipped my phone into my pocket as West stepped forward. “Everything okay?”
“The bartender at Fiddlers. Blue. She called.”
“Blue?” Easton asked, raising an eyebrow. “Something going on?”
“I don’t know.”
“You want me to go with you?” Easton offered. He and I had logged plenty of hours at Fiddlers. We both knew the place and the people.
I shook my head, eyeing the sleeping three-year-old in his arms. “You just get him home. I’ll drop Lox off at my place and then head over.”
“We both have our cars here,” Jesse offered. “I can take Loxley home and Easton can take Max. That way you can go straight to Fiddlers.”
“I don’t mind going with you,” Loxley said suddenly, her voice a bit nervous.
“Lox—” I started, already shaking my head.
“We’ve all agreed to keep it a secret that you’re here,” Jesse said gently but firmly, turning to Loxley. “If you walk into Fiddlers, everyone’s going to recognize you. Changing your hair doesn’t change your face.”
I didn’t say it aloud, but I shared Jesse’s concern. Whoever was down there asking about me, it might have something to do with her. I didn’t know how this guy had my name or what he wanted, but until I did, I wasn’t bringing Loxley anywhere near it.
“Yeah, Lox,” I said, giving her a tight smile. “Let Jesse take you home. That way, I can get there faster and be back sooner.”
She nodded, but I could tell she didn’t like it. There was something in her eyes, an emotion I couldn’t place. Worry? Fear? Something she wasn’t saying.
I said a quick goodbye, then watched as she and Jesse headed out the back where Jesse had parked.
As I made my way out the front door, I caught West leaning casually against the porch railing, scrolling through his phone like he hadn’t just eaten half a pie.
“Hey,” I said, jerking my head toward the driveway. “Wanna ride with me to Fiddlers? I’ll bring you back to your helicopter before midnight, Princess.”
“You know I don’t step foot in that bar,” he scoffed.
“Yeah well, I could use the time to talk to you about something,” I shrugged.
West’s tie was loosened, and his sleeves had been rolled up, he looked out where his helicopter sat idly, no doubt with his pilot on standby, ready to take off. “Fine.”
“I have no way of answering that,” West huffed as we drove toward Fiddlers.
"But she’s miserable.”
"People do miserable shit all the time. If she’s under contract, chances are she’ll have to do miserable shit until it’s over."
He wasn’t being much help, not that I really expected him to be. West wasn’t a lawyer. He was smart enough to pay other people a lot of money to handle his legal issues. Still, I’d hoped he might know a way to keep Loxley from going back to her record label and that manipulative manager of hers.
"It just kind of freaks me out, you know?" I admitted.
"Yeah, you’ve become pretty protective," West said, his tone unusually soft. "And obviously, you two are close. But no matter how miserable she is with her label and manager, I’d bet you the cost of your house that she’d be just as miserable never stepping on that stage again."
"She can be on that stage without having her hands tied behind her back," I argued.
"Maybe. I’m sure there’s a way. But contracts, image, and social status… those things dictate a lot of what she’s allowed to do in the future. Just be careful. Trust me on this. The music industry can make life a living hell if she pisses off the wrong people."
West stared out the window, his jaw tight.
His sudden seriousness matched the weight of our conversation but felt layered with something deeper.
It wasn’t just about Loxley anymore. It reminded me that, as much as I thought I knew my older brother, that there were always pieces of him I’d never fully understand.
He was the oldest, the grumpiest, the loneliest. He could hold his own in the family, but pretended to intimidate everyone else.
All the money in the world, and it still seemed like West didn’t have what Easton and I did.
We had our town, our people, our sense of community.
The few times I’d visited his penthouse, I’d noticed how cold and formal everyone around him seemed.
He’d turned 18, taken his share of our parents’ life insurance, and multiplied it a thousand times over.
He was smart, relentless, and determined.
But the way he always looked so… alone ate at me. How much about him did I really know?
The car went quiet as we pulled into Fiddlers. West glanced around like he’d just landed on a new planet. Maybe he had, in a way. He hadn’t spent much time in Harmony Haven since he’d left.
"You coming?" I asked, already out of the Jeep.
West smirked. "If you’re scared, I guess I can protect you."
I laughed, shaking my head. That was the West I knew and loved, the one who could dish out shit-talk like a pro. He followed me inside, both of us scanning the sizable crowd.
Blue was behind the bar, hustling as usual. I approached, trying to pinpoint which of the patrons might’ve been looking for me. Blue caught my eye and huffed, clearly exhausted.
"I just tried to call you," she said, wiping her brow. "He left about 15 minutes ago."
I checked my phone but didn’t see any missed calls. "You must’ve tried while I hit the dead zone outside town."
"Probably. I was going to try again, but we’ve been slammed."
"What did he look like?"
She shrugged. "Mid-40s, Yankees hat, oversized suit, ugly tie. Kind of looked like Mr. Belding from Saved by the Bell."
"He didn’t say his name or why he was here?"
"Nope. Just said he’d see you tomorrow. Sorry for calling you down here."
"I’m glad you did. It’s not every day a stranger comes through town asking for me. Let’s just hope he’s not with the IRS."
Blue laughed, then got pulled to the other end of the bar. I turned to find West leaning against the wall, eyeing a group of people playing pool.
"Want to play a quick round?" I teased, knowing full well he’d say no.
"I just need to get the hell out of here." He pushed the door open and stepped outside quickly. I followed, laughing.
"I know Fiddlers isn’t your scene, but we can walk at a casual pace."
"So, he’s not here,” he noticed, changing the subject. “Does this have anything to do with Loxley?"
"No idea. I got a description, though. I’ll drop you off at Grams’ and head home to Loxley."
"Are you going to tell her about it?"
"Not yet. For all I know, it could be a tax guy I’ve never met in person, a cop stopping in to say hi, or someone I arrested a while back looking for revenge."
West rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He climbed into the Jeep, clearly ready to leave. I’d wait to tell Loxley. For now, there was no sense freaking her out until I knew more.