Whiskey (Brewed Book 2) Page 4

  “Yeah, I heard you earlier, but I have a bag with your name on it. Figured you might want it.”

  A harsh breath left her.

  Almost as if I’d stunned and infuriated her at once with a few words.

  Resentment rolled off her in waves and slid uncomfortably across my skin as she stormed past me, heels clicking on the cobblestone street and echoing off the buildings.

  “Em—”

  “Don’t.”

  I looked straight ahead and released a weighted breath. Felt like I’d been holding it since I’d exited my truck.

  Ignoring Brady’s protective and questioning stare, I opened up the door of my truck and hauled myself inside, forcing myself not to turn around. Not to look at where Emberly was getting into her Jeep and leaving.

  Glancing at the bag in the passenger seat, I shook my head and reversed out of the spot to head back to Sawyer’s.

  The cab of my truck filled with crisp air that was so distinctly Fall in Amber. Triggering a hint of a smile that abruptly fell when that Jeep I’d tried so hard not to look at appeared on the side of the road the next street over.

  Flashers on.

  Driver door wide open.

  “The hell?”

  I slowed, staring at the Jeep like it just might be a trap.

  A way to get back at me for whatever she was still clearly clinging to.

  With a mumbled curse, I pulled up behind her car and got out of the truck, approaching it slowly and stopping altogether when she rounded the back of it and saw me.

  A heaving, irritated breath left her before she turned from me and pulled open the other door on the driver’s side and began searching.

  After nearly a minute of watching her, I stepped forward and asked, “Lose something?”

  “Why are you here?” she snapped and wriggled out of the position she’d gotten herself in, standing to her full, tiny height to glare at me.

  Jesus, how many times had I heard that in just a few hours?

  How many more times could I hear it?

  A forced smile shaped my lips. “Can you be more specific?”

  “Here,” she said coldly. “Here, right now. In Amber. Outside my shop.”

  “I told you I had something for you,” I began, then took a step back to gesture to my truck.

  “Right.” The word came out sharp as a knife. “A bag. You really think I’m gonna fall for that?” At my confusion, she asked, “What’s in the ‘bag’ this time, Cayson? A clown mask? Mice? Cow shit? A snake?”

  My expression fell before I could force a mask of nothing as a shock of guilt spread through me.

  As obscure memories tried to push their way to the surface before disappearing again.

  “I’m not the same naïve girl you spent a lifetime tormenting,” she ground out. “You’re greatly mistaken if you think you can come back here and continue to.”

  I knew she wasn’t the girl I remembered.

  I knew.

  Her hardened stares that screamed contempt hadn’t changed in the time I’d been gone, but there was something else lingering behind it all that had. Something confident and guarded and so damn sexy.

  But she remembered things from our childhood—things I’d forgotten but had no doubt I’d done.

  She remembered that guy . . .

  She hated that guy.

  And I’d spent years escaping him.

  My tone was low and filled with old frustrations and shame when I said, “It’s just a normal bag. As for right now?” I looked pointedly at where we stood. At the Jeep screaming she was stranded and needed help. “You’re on the side of the road at one in the morning.”

  “I lost something,” she said after a second of hesitation and turned back for the Jeep. “Not that it’s your business.”

  “Again: One in the morning.”

  “Yes, one in the morning,” she said in mock horror. “You were also waiting for me with a bag at one in the morning.”

  “I wasn’t allowed inside.”

  “Still aren’t, and you’re welcome to leave now.”

  I didn’t move.

  I just watched her search for whatever it was she’d lost, trying to wade through her anger.

  “Emberly—”

  “Don’t,” she begged. After a moment, she turned her scorn-filled stare on me. “Leave, Cayson.”

  “I can’t,” I said gruffly and gestured to her. “I can’t leave you on the side of the road. Especially at this time.”

  A sharp laugh burst from her, but when I only continued to watch her, her expression fell into pure shock. “What?”

  “Jesus, is that really so hard to believe?”

  “Yes,” she said immediately.

  Her answer stunned me. When I was finally able to respond, I said, “That guy you’re remembering? That was a long time ago.”

  Emberly’s head shook as I spoke. “Not here. Not for us.”

  A laugh made of nothing more than a breath left me. There was really no other response.

  Small town.

  Long memory.

  Clearing my throat, I asked, “What did you lose?”

  She seemed to weigh her words. Almost as if anticipating what would happen if she let me help her then.

  After a while, she released a heavy sigh and said, “My gas can.” When my brows rose, she pointed to her Jeep. “I ran out of gas.”

  My chest heaved with a muted laugh as I thought of my conversation with Sawyer. “Happen often?”

  One of her shoulders lifted. “Enough.”

  “Enough that you usually have a gas can on you?”

  She turned for the open door behind her, mumbling and rambling, “Well, a lot of good that did this time. Kept driving so I would remember to get gas—kept forgetting. Ta-da.”

  My next laugh was louder. “Get in the truck, I’ll take you to the gas station.”

  She didn’t bother with a response, but the way she paused from shutting the doors said that my offer had once again surprised her.

  When she turned, her face was set in that mask of disdain again.

  Without a word, she stomped past me.

  All right then.

  I followed, my head listing when she continued past my truck. “Where are you going?”

  “Getting gas.”

  “I said I would take you.”

  “I don’t need you to,” she replied coldly.

  “Jesus fucking—gah,” I said on a groan, drawing out the words as my head fell back so I was facing the sky.

  I dragged in a calming breath then jogged after her, slowing once I reached her side.

  “What, Cayson?” she snapped, pure exasperation, and turned on me. “What?”

  I lifted my hands before letting them fall. “I’m not letting you walk through town in the middle of the night.”

  “It’s Amber. I know you’ve been gone, but not much has changed here. Nothing’s gonna happen between here and the two streets to the gas station.”

  “Regardless,” I began when I was sure I wouldn’t lash out at the umpteenth reminder of my disappearance, “I’m not letting you walk alone. Not at night. Not dressed like that.”

  She straightened, her brows drawing together in anger and defensiveness.

  “You do know it’s October, right?”

  “You do know it’s Texas, right?” she shot back, then continued away from me. Before I could make it to her side, she turned on me. “And what about the way I’m dressed? If you’re trying to imply I look like a hooker, just say it.”

  I lifted a hand in surrender. “Never crossed my mind.”

  It was cold—for Texas. And while she was wearing a flannel shirt, it was longer than the shorts she had on and was left completely unbuttoned. Exposing her flat stomach and showing whatever-the-hell the strappy thing was that covered her breasts.

  Emberly had always been her own person. Experimenting with clothing and hairstyles that had the rest of the town whispering before they’d eventually grown used t
o it.

  But the girl in front of me, who seemed so confident with her dark lips and long hair that looked like it’d been mussed up from a night in bed, was not the girl I’d known.

  I just wasn’t sure what about her had changed . . . or if it was all me.

  Her jaw tensed as she studied me, and after a few seconds, she took off again. But when I reached her side, she stopped and asked, “Why are you doing this to me?” soft as a whisper.

  A breath punched from my lungs. “Doing—Emberly, I’m trying to help you.”

  “You have never tried to help anyone other than yourself, Cayson Dixon.”

  My shoulders sagged.

  Body deflated.

  “Fuck.” It was nothing more than a wheeze as I stumbled back a step.

  “You made my life miserable,” she ground out, refusing to relent. “Why would I expect you to come back and do the opposite? Why would I believe that you wanted to?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly, then looked away as a jumble of memories rushed through my mind, too fast to grasp any of them for more than a split second.

  Some from my life in Amber.

  Some from my life after.

  All defining moments, none that would make this girl hate me the way she did.

  “Well, go.” She was taking a step away when I looked at her again, flicking her hand in the direction I’d been staring.

  Toward my truck.

  “Go ahead and leave. We all knew it was a matter of time anyway.”

  “Jesus, Emberly, what did I do to you?”

  Her steps stilled and her face went blank for long seconds before she began trembling and rage started slipping through that mask.

  “I thought you were mad for the same reasons as my family. I mean, I kinda remember teasing you, but . . .”—I gestured to where she stood, silently seething—“clearly, I don’t remember it the way you do.”

  “Teasing?” The word was a gasp as her shaking steadily grew stronger and stronger. And then snapped—body rigid and voice sharp. “You cut an entire section of my hair on picture day, Cayson. You got nearly the entire middle school to pretend I didn’t exist for my first two weeks there. You started a rumor that I was really a boy in high school, and then I had the jerks from the baseball team following me all over town and cornering me. Trying anything to get me to drop my pants because they wanted proof—and that was the least of it with them.”

  Oh God.

  With every instance, a hazy memory played out that I had long forgotten.

  The last? Fuck. I was pretty sure I had said she was a guy when I overheard someone talking about wanting to hook up with her. It’d been a joking, veiled attempt to get his sights off her.

  I hadn’t known it ever turned into anything, and I damn sure hadn’t known that.

  I dragged a hand over my face, wanting to crawl into a hole. Wanting to punch my younger self.

  “And those are just a few and not nearly the worst.” Her hands shot to her head, her fingers pressing to her temples. “Oh. Oh, how could I forget Duck?” Loathing dripped from her and crawled across the space that separated us.

  Dread and longing and need filled me as that word bounced around and around in my mind.

  An infuriated laugh tumbled from her lips when she saw the memories kick in. “Yeah . . . that,” she sneered. “I can’t tell you how many times I agonized over that goddamn name. And then you got more upperclassmen in on it . . . I nearly stopped going to school, Cayson.”

  “I’m sorry.” The apology was weak, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  Duck . . . Duck, I’d remembered, but not in the way she did. I hadn’t known.

  But with the few instances she’d revealed, others were rising to the surface.

  Teases and pranks that I’d thought were nothing, but she’d clearly thought were something. It’d always been just another day, and Emberly had been an easy target because she was always attached to Sawyer.

  Lashing out at her because I’d needed somewhere to put my own pain, and she was always right there.

  “I, uh . . .” I shrugged and looked at her helplessly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can say other than I’m sorry. I didn’t come back here to make your life worse—or my family’s. To be honest, I don’t even think I meant to come back. But I did. And right now, I’m here.” Taking a step back, I nodded in the direction she’d been heading. “I’m gonna help you get gas because I can’t just leave you. But I won’t bother you after that.”

  She studied me for so long I wasn’t sure if she would ever respond or just take off again. But eventually, she turned for my truck with a defeated sigh and headed for the passenger side.

  Once we got inside, I handed her the bag I’d brought with me. “That belongs to you.”

  She eyed the bag then looked at me suspiciously.

  “I can hand you everything in there one at a time if you’d like. But I put it in a bag for a reason.”

  Curiosity overwhelmed her suspicion as she took the bag and unrolled the top. As soon as she reached in, her face fell and cheeks darkened. “Oh God.” She bent closer to look inside as she rummaged through the bag and then quickly shut the top and tried to flatten it to herself.

  “That was everything you’d left at Sawyer’s.”

  “Mmhm,” she hummed, embarrassment coloring her face in the darkened cab. “You know, you could’ve told me I had things there. I would’ve come to get them.”

  “This was easier.”

  “Right,” she said on a huff. “Bringing me a bag of my lingerie and toiletries and tampons is easier and not at all humiliating.”

  I cranked the engine, my head shaking as I did. “I lived with my girlfriend for three years, Emberly. None of that shit bothers me.”

  I glanced her way when she didn’t respond and found her looking out the window, her mouth pulled down in a frown.

  She cleared her throat when I started turning us around. “Yeah, um . . . Sawyer said you and your girlfriend are serious.”

  “No. Not.” My head shook in small jerks. “We never were.”

  “Living together for three years sounds pretty serious,” she murmured to the window.

  “Yeah, maybe for some people. But we . . . we were more stuck in a comfortable routine.”

  Emberly made a humming sound but didn’t respond otherwise.

  The rest of the ride to and from the gas station was silent.

  Despite having the windows down, the cab of my truck filled with a lethal mixture of regret, loathing, and the weight of all the words we weren’t saying.

  The longer we went, the more it grew.

  But by the time I’d finished emptying the new gas can in her car and was handing it to her, her barely-concealed fury had my words catching in my throat.

  She turned stiffly to put the empty can in the back seat of her Jeep and then immediately reached for the driver door.

  “You never said anything,” I choked out before she could get it open.

  Her head shifted a little, but she didn’t look behind her.

  “To Sawyer . . . about that night.”

  She turned then, looking all kinds of uncomfortable.

  Her chin lifted defiantly, but her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “Who said I didn’t?”

  “He would’ve told me if you had.”

  “Well then, I guess you’re right.”

  “You tell him everything,” I said, taking a step toward her when she reached for her door again. “But you didn’t tell him that.”

  “Must have slipped my mind.”

  “Emberly,” I murmured skeptically.

  Of everything, that was something I remembered:

  The way Sawyer and Emberly were always side by side, even when Leighton—the third member of their trio—and Sawyer began dating. It never changed anything.

  They stayed best friends.

  They told each other too much.

  And Emberly was always right there, too damn c
lose to him.

  Her stare finally snapped to me. “Why would I have told him?” she whispered as if she were worried about someone else hearing. “If you’d wanted people to know, you would’ve told them yourself. You wouldn’t have left.”

  The corner of my mouth lifted in a forced smile. “Wasn’t that simple.”

  “Get up.”

  I flinched, my body going tight and moving away from the hand that had smacked across my face, and looked sleepily around the darkened room.

  “Dad?”

  “Said, get up,” he repeated.

  He was mad.

  He’d been mad.

  At me.

  “Yes, sir,” I said quickly, already stumbling out of my bed and reaching for my shoes when I realized he was dressed for the morning.

  I kept my eyes on where he stood in the middle of my room, hands on his hips and angry stare on me.

  Waiting.

  Silent.

  That was how you knew Dad was real good and mad. When he went and stopped talking. He stopped talking to me a lot.

  “Get the fuck on, you’ve got chores,” he said, his voice sounding like a whip when I watched him a little too long.

  “Yes, sir.” I hurried to finish tying my shoes and followed him out of my room and down the hall.

  His steps were big.

  Way bigger than mine.

  But I stayed just behind him as he went downstairs and out of the house, knowing we were gonna get started on feeding the animals if he was headed out toward the barn.

  But I couldn’t figure out why he’d woken me up so early. It wasn’t even gray outside yet.

  Animals started gettin’ fed when it was gray outside.

  And my brothers helped me do it.

  “Dad, why are we awake so early?” I asked as I hurried to stay caught up to him.

  But he didn’t answer me.

  Real good and mad.

  He musta found out about the glue with Emberly.

  Or maybe about the snake I’d put in Sawyer’s room. It’d just been a little baby garter snake, and Saw hadn’t gotten bit or nothin’.

  I paused when we reached the side door of the barn, a weird feeling in my stomach.

  Like it was being twisted around and around.

  Like it was falling.

  “Dad, the glue came off,” I said softly. “It wasn’t no big deal.”