18. He Saw She Wasn’t Safe
He Saw She Wasn’t Safe
Aiden
Bernie waved from behind the bar when I walked into the Old Cellar.
The place smelled like beer and aged wood, and the bartender’s bald head shone under the dimmed lights. He slung a plaid tea towel over his shoulder and pointed to where Harry slumped over the bar.
“He’s had a few,” Bernie called out to me, shaking his head.
I grunted. A few, huh?
Harry’s skinny legs twisted around the wooden stool with a wet coaster stuck under his cheek for good measure.
I glanced at the drink in front of him. Droplets of water slithered down the empty beer glass.
The kid couldn’t handle booze. He rarely touched the stuff out of principle—probably because of the ugly shit he’d lived through with his father—and without an ounce of fat on him, he had zero tolerance.
I rested my bandaged hand on his back.
“Go ’way,” Harry grumbled. “Sleeping.”
He shrugged my hand off and buried his face deeper into the crook of his arm. I gave him a shake. His muffled groan was easy enough to decipher: Piss off, old man .
“Hey, Bernie!” I called.
He lumbered over, the uneven, clunking steps a reminder of his motorcycle accident a few years back. He was lucky he made it.
Bernie cocked his head. “You jumping on the wagon with him, big fella?”
“Nah, nothing for me.” I nodded at the empty glass. “How many did he have?”
Bernie chuckled. “I cut him off at two beers. Your boy can’t handle his liquor.
” He pointed to the booth in the corner.
A group of women giggled and clinked cocktail glasses.
No one looked familiar—probably tourists.
“One of those troublemakers might have snuck him a couple of vodka shots when I wasn’t looking. ”
I scrubbed a hand down my face. Harry was well and truly toasted.
I’d be hauling his butt back to my truck and taking him up to my place to sleep it off.
His mother wouldn’t handle it. She’d sniff the booze on him and drop into a panic attack.
Those memories hadn’t left her just because her husband had shot through town.
I wrapped an arm around Harry and tried to lift him off the stool. Even drunk, he wriggled more than a worm on a hook. The second I got a firm grip under his armpits, he twisted and slipped out of my grasp to snuggle back on the wood.
“Don’t wanna go.” Harry’s flailing arm stopped me from getting my hands back on him. A wayward palm smacked me on the chin—a lucky hit. “Dreaming ’bout the Sunshine Princess.”
Dreaming about the… what?
“Kid, come on.” I seriously didn’t need this. I’d give anything to pop a few painkillers and head to bed. My hand throbbed like hell, and Lola had twisted my heart in a knot I’d never unwind. “Time to go—”
A deep grunt of pain finished my sentence when my side slammed into the edge of the bar.
What the … ?
Someone had damn near tackled me. I flashed an annoyed glare over my shoulder, only to be met with panicked eyes behind enormous gold-rimmed glasses.
“S-sorry.” Lola’s apology was rushed. She had no interest in talking to me. “Hey! Hi! Bernie!” Her breath came in gasps as if she’d sprinted from the clinic. “A white wine, please.”
Bernie’s lips curled in an amused smile. “I’ve got a nice Riesling—”
“Anything.” Lola waved her hand to hurry the order along. “Just give me whatever you’ve got.”
The creases on Bernie’s forehead bunched tighter when his eyebrows rose. Lola didn’t notice his surprise—or mine. She was distracted. Her hands fidgeted in the folds of her skirt, and her hair bobbed up and down from the impatient way she bounced nervously on the spot.
When Bernie slid the drink in front of her, she launched on it like lightning. She snatched the glass, tipped it up to her pretty lips, and the wine disappeared in huge gulps.
The empty glass clinked on the bar when Lola plonked it down. “May I please have another—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa .” I clamped my hand over the glass. “Give yourself a breather, Lola.” I jerked my thumb in Harry’s direction. “You don’t want to end up like him.”
Lola craned her neck to peer around me. “Is he okay?” She straightened her glasses and swept a concerned look over him. “What happened?”
“A few too many.” Well, any was too many for Harry. “He’ll be right once he sleeps it off. He’s had a tough day.” I was playing with fire, but I couldn’t stop my smirk. “He handles cuts almost as well as you do.”
“Careful.” Lola’s eyes narrowed. “I can rip out those stitches quicker than I put them in.”
“If it means you’re putting your little hands on me, you can do anything you want.” I shifted closer to whisper a word that would probably earn me a punch in the gut. “Hon.”
I teased her. I shouldn’t have. But any attention from Lola was better than her pretending I didn’t exist. Hearing her say that sweet term of endearment?
That had meant the world to a dumb fool like me.
It was hope . My heart had rocketed into a beat faster than a teenager talking to his first crush.
Lola pushed her glasses up her nose like she was preparing for battle, but her chest deflated. “You always bring out the worst in me.”
She huffed a defeated sigh and whirled around. There was nothing to stare at except her back until she flagged Bernie’s attention away from the old-timers sitting at the other end of the bar.
He lumbered back with a grin. “Ready for another round, Lola from the City?”
Lola wilted. Bloody hell. She didn’t need to hear that crap on top of everything else she was going through.
“Bernie, come on,” I said. “Don’t call her that.”
His eyes flew to me. “Sorry?”
“You heard me. She’s a part of this town just like you are.”
“Like me? No offence, big fella, but I’ve been here more than forty years—”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean she’s an outsider. She’s part of this place. She patched up your grandson when he came off his bike last week, didn’t she?”
Bernie’s head bowed. He was eating his words now.
“No more of that Lola from the City crap, understand? You call her Dr. Hughes.” I threw a grin in her direction. “Or maybe if she likes you, she’ll let you call her Lola.”
Bernie mumbled something under his breath. I wasn’t sure if it was a reluctant apology to Lola or a giant “Fuck you” to me.
He forced a smile. “So, Doc, you want another?”
A growl rumbled in my chest. Didn’t I just warn him?
“Doc’s okay!” Bernie’s panicked eyes pleaded with Lola. “Doc’s okay! Right?”
Lola giggled and swatted my arm, a playful warning for me to back off. “Yeah, Doc’s okay.”
Mutters trailed behind Bernie on his trip to the old-timers whose necks were about to snap off from all their gawking.
I grimaced. Causing a scene hadn’t been part of the equation.
I flicked a glance behind me. A bar full of eyes stared back.
Oh yeah, they’d heard me. I’d made a declaration I was interested in Lola. Was I bothered about the gossip? Nope.
“Aiden.” My brain stopped the second Lola’s hand touched my arm. “Thank you.”
I dipped my chin. She had nothing to thank me for. “I should’ve made it right a long time ago.”
“Yes. You should have.”
“I should never have done what I did in the first place.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to make it up to you.”
She grunted an adorable sound. “I don’t think you can.”
“What about more eggs? You liked the eggs.”
Lola blinked up at me, and the hint of her smile made my breath stick in my throat like glue. My heart started thumping—another one of those panic attacks, but good.
“I did like the eggs,” she said. “Opening my door those Sunday mornings was the highlight of my week. I wish…” She trailed off with a reluctant shake of her head.
“You wish we’d had more weeks like that?” I did. If I’d kept my promise and slowed us down, would we still be talking?
“Yeah.” A tinge of pink flushed her cheeks.
“What would you have baked next?”
“I was horribly stuck on what to pick, but I think I was almost settled on a brown butter cheesecake.”
“One step closer to finally mastering caramel, huh?”
“Maybe.” She laughed. “Let’s not get too optimistic. I truly am hopeless with caramel.”
“I’m sorry I missed out on tasting your cheesecake. What tipped you over the edge into day drinking?” I waved a hand at the glass. “Land yourself with a patient even more difficult than me?”
Lola almost managed a lopsided smile. “I, um…” She sagged against the bar. “I got some…news…” An uneasy glance shifted to me from the corner of her eye. I’d seen that look before. “I knew it was coming, but I still wasn’t ready.”
Him . She was talking about him . I knew it, but I skirted around the edges to make it easier for her.
“Your family okay?” I asked. “Don’t tell me Bruce and Barb encountered a crocodile on their adventures up north?”
Smirking, Lola ran her fingertip around the rim of the glass. “Funnily enough, they did stumble on a crocodile in Cairns. But even a croc wouldn’t be game to mess up Bruce and Barb’s three-quarter life crisis. It was, um…” She sighed. “Remember the day out in the storm?”
I edged closer, lowering my voice. This wasn’t something for anyone else in town to hear. “Is that bastard giving you trouble?” I’d take care of him. Somehow.
“He’s…he’s looking…for me.” She gulped. “I was careful this time, but he got my number.”
“He’s been messaging you?”
“I blocked him. I even got another number. But Dad called and said Mum had done something stupid. She talked to Chris. He dazzled her and convinced her to give him my new number. She told him everything we’d talked about.
I was careful about what I said to Mum, but…
God, Aiden. Chris is so smart. He’s got money.
It’s not a question of if he’ll find me, but when .
I just…” She sighed. “I just don’t understand why . ”
“Why he’s looking for you?”
Her head bobbed up and down. “He hated everything about me. He was never short of other options. Why won’t he move on to one of them and leave me alone?”
“Power. Control.” Cautious, as gentle as I could be, I rested my palm in the curve of her spine. “Are you safe, Lola?”
“I’ve never been safe, but I’m stronger here than I was with him.
I’ll do all the usual things. I’ll change my number again.
Check my locks. Fix the broken latch on the back door.
I’ll even hike up my big girl pants and stop by the police station to talk to them.
I just wish I could’ve had more time living my life and not worrying about the minute it’s all going to be snatched away, you know? ”
I’d had moments with her like that. “I do.” The only difference was I’d chosen when to strike the match and blow up what Lola and I might have had.
“Hey!”
Brooke’s furious bark rang out across the bar. If there was one set of eyes not already staring at me after telling off the bartender, they were on me now. Guilty, I dropped my hand from Lola’s back and stuffed it in my pocket.
Brooke’s hair sailed behind her like a war banner as she charged over. “You better not be messing with my girl, you big oaf.”
“I’m not causing any trouble, Brooke,” I promised.
Harry’s head shot up. “Brooke?” He blinked, his eyes wild and darting everywhere. A goofy grin spread over his flushed cheeks when he saw the medical receptionist. He almost fell on his butt as he staggered off the stool.
Brooke’s eyes rounded. “What the hell happened to him?”
Harry propped his elbow on the bar. He was probably aiming to look cool, but he slumped over the wood more like a limp fish. “You happened to me, Sunshine Princess.” His dopey smile only got dopier.
Brooke’s mouth dropped open. Lola’s too.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. This was about to turn into a train wreck. Harry was drunk out of his damn mind, but his awkwardness about driving me to the clinic started ringing like an alarm in my ears. I needed to do some damage control before he made a complete fool of himself.
“Come on, kid.” I put my hand on Harry’s chest and tried to push him away, but he clambered past me, legs flailing like a newborn giraffe, and he latched his arms around Brooke. She squealed.
Harry buried his face against her neck. “Oh, Princess,” he cooed. “Your hair is like golden waves of the sweetest honey.”
Lola snorted a giggle.
I tried to pry Harry’s skinny arms off Brooke. He was squeezing the life out of her. “He’s had a bit to drink,” I tried explaining as I tugged him away.
Harry sighed as he nuzzled Brooke’s hair. “I bet you taste like sunflowers,” he told her.
I groaned. “Make that a lot to drink.”
After I managed to pull his arms off, Harry wobbled side to side, not quite sure where to land, and started dropping to one knee.
Oh—shit!
“Marry m—” he started.
I laughed over the top of his drunken proposal, capturing the collar of his T-shirt before he made it to the ground. “I better get the kid out of here.” I flicked my eyes to Brooke. “Can you make sure Lola gets home safe?”
“Wha…?” Brooke’s face was frozen in shock. A jab of Lola’s elbow snapped her out of her daze. She nodded. “Yeah, of course. Always.” She trilled a nervous laugh. “Got your back, lumberjack.” She cocked her fingers like a pistol and winked.
Harry batted at me like a tired toddler. He protested nonsense about me ruining his chance at true love with every awkward step it took to haul his drunken backside out of the Old Cellar and down the street. He vomited all over my boots a second later.
I sighed.
Defeated. Exhausted. Damn near ready to give up.
It had been the day from hell. My hand. The kid.
I couldn’t bear to think about the rest. My heart was already torn to shreds worrying about Lola.
She needed to do more than check her locks.
I could camp outside a few nights a week…
Better yet, every damn night. The only thing stopping me from racing back into the bar was knowing the blonde was looking out for my girl.
No one was stupid enough to take on Brooke.
And the day could’ve been worse.
The kid could’ve puked in my truck.