Chapter Seventeen

Dylan

In nearly eight years of service with the Navy, I’d seen a lot of shit. People in pain—of all kinds—devastation and horrors. But as I left Emma’s apartment, I knew that the image of her broken face would haunt me until the day I died.

I left Emma’s and wandered the neighborhood aimlessly. My mind was roaring too loudly for sleep. There weren’t words I could speak that would erase the past. I’d left Emma behind. Of course, at the time that wasn’t my intention. In fact, I’d thought I was helping her. I couldn’t bear the thought of her uprooting her whole life, leaving her family and winding up alone on a military base, waiting for news after every single mission. It wasn’t any kind of life. I wanted more for her. She deserved better than sitting alone, chewing her nails to the quick, waiting for me to come home. In my attempt to spare her, I’d somehow doomed her instead.

All these years I’d spent angry and bitter over her moving on so quickly now seemed petty and jealous. I’d gone ballistic when I got the letter telling me that she was married to Tommy. How fucked up was I? I’d left, but I didn’t want her to have her own life? It didn’t matter. Anger fed into rage and for a few months I wouldn’t say a word about it to anyone. All of my brothers in arms knew I was fucked up over something, but they couldn’t get me to fess up. I felt stupid for letting some woman get me all tangled and unfocused. Eventually I moved on, piece by piece. I told myself that she had every right to move on. I went through a series of one-night stands, fucking a new woman every time I went off base. It was empty and meaningless, but took the sting away ever so slightly.

By the time I’d made my last trip back to Brighton, I was more or less at peace with the past. I’d expected to come home and find Emma and Tommy with their young son, the picture of bliss, and in some twisted way, I was actually looking forward to it. I figured it would take away that last thorn, and I could fully heal.

Instead, Emma had been out of town for the weekend. I always wondered if it was deliberate. Her not being here for the one weekend I was home. And Tommy’d been too busy running the diner to say much of anything. But what little he did say made it seem as though I was right. They were a solid match and happy together. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the missing link. I went back to the desert more confused than ever. Instead of being happy for Emma, I’d lay awake wondering what might have been. What our life would look like if I’d been the one to put a ring on her finger and a baby in her belly.

Now, back at home, seeing the full span of the wreckage, I was screwed up again. This time riddled with guilt and rage at a man who’d been one of my closest friends. It was even worse that he was dead. I couldn’t throttle him and demand answers. All I was left with were regrets. A massive, ever-growing pile of them.

Sinking deeper and deeper into misery, I veered back around the block and went to the pub. I needed relief. A one-night stand with some woman who looked nothing like Emma. It had always worked in the past. The pub had been busier than usual in the week following Jimmy’s murder. Instead of staying away, tainted by the tragedy, people came out in droves. I figured it was the neighborhood’s way of showing support and solidarity. Considering the ugly truth I’d learned about Paddy’s financial situation, if he or Frankie were going to take back the bar, I was grateful.

Music pulsed out into the street as I approached the front entrance. A trio of men in dark coats reached the door first and barged inside, not bothering to hold the door.

“Fuckers,” I grumbled, yanking it open after it slammed in my face.

Nearly twenty people sat inside at the bar and the few tables on the outskirts of the makeshift dance floor. The pool table was in use by a rowdy looking group of college-aged kids.

I started forward, ready to swoop in on one of the few empty bar stools when I spotted Tara, Jimmy’s fiancée, at the far end of the bar. She was wearing a tank top cut low enough her black lace bra was peeking out and she had a crowd of men hanging on her every word as she poured drinks. Had she moved back into the apartment upstairs? And what—if anything—did she know about the hookers who lived, or at least worked, out of the adjacent apartments?

With nothing to lose, I started for her but stopped short when the men who’d entered right before me headed her way. I side-stepped the flow of customers preparing to leave and hugged the wall beside the L-shaped section of the bar. Frankie, Paddy’s son was working the opposite end of the bar and perked up at the sight of the trio headed toward Tara. Did he know them? Did they know Tara? Or were they just barreling toward her to get their rocks off watching her tits bounce as she mixed drinks.

I hung back and took a seat closer to Frankie. He glanced over and spotted me with a surprised look. He finished with his customer and came over to take my order. “Didn’t expect to see you in here tonight. How ya doin’?”

I jerked my chin toward Tara. She’d spotted the trio of newcomers and while it was a quick flicker, her smile had faltered for a moment at the sight of them. Something was definitely going on. “She moved back upstairs?”

Frankie shook his head. “Not that I know of. To be honest, I didn’t figure she’d come back at all. Figured since Jimmy was gone she’d move on. But she showed up tonight and asked for a shift. I needed the help.”

I nodded, still fixated on her and her gaggle of men. “Who are those three? The ones in the dark coats?”

Frankie glanced down the bar and shrugged. “I don’t know. Regulars, maybe? I haven’t been here much, as you know. It’ll take me a few to get used to it again.”

“You happy to be back? After all, this used to be your place.” I hadn’t managed to get a read on how Jimmy and Frankie were getting along prior to Jimmy’s death. Frankie was likely still pissed over losing his bar, but now that Jimmy was gone he was suppressing it out of respect. We were still family after all.

Frankie hitched a shoulder and went to pull a pint for me. “It pays better than what I was doing at the mill. Especially with as busy as it’s been. I still need to sort out some new suppliers since—” He stopped and glanced around. “Well, you know.”

“Let me know if you need help with that before I leave town.” I’d told Frankie about the men at O’Doul’s and he’d been just as pissed as I was and vowed he wouldn’t do any type of business with them.

He pushed a pint of dark ale at me and then went off to help the next group of customers. I picked up the drink and sipped some off the top. Tara had worked her way to the corner where the three men had found seats and was leaning in to talk to them. A smile remained on her lips but her jaw was tensed, like she was clenching down on her back teeth. Every few words, her eyes would flit around the room and then back to the men she was speaking with. After a few minutes, they dropped a handful of bills on the bar, though they hadn’t touched the drinks she’d served them, and then they sauntered out of the pub. Tara, visibly rattled, scooped up the cash, tucked it into the back pocket of her booty shorts and then hurried to dump out the drinks they’d left behind.

I took my drink to the other end of the bar and plopped down in her section. She turned and jolted at the sight of me. “Dylan,” she said breathlessly, one hand at her throat.

“Everything okay over here?” I asked her, sipping lazily at my beer.

She nodded but swallowed hard.

“I didn’t know you were back in town. Maybe we should get to know each other a little better. After all, you were arguably the person who spent the most time with Jimmy. As you probably know, I hadn’t seen him in a few years. I’d like the chance to catch up with what he was into. Reminisce, if you will.”

Tara nodded a little too hard. “Sure, yeah. I don’t know how much I could tell you that you don’t already know.”

I glanced at the front door. “Who were those guys who just left? Friends of yours? Jimmy’s?”

Tara frowned. “No. I don’t know them.”

“Really?” I arched a brow. “They seemed like they knew you.”

She sighed. “They’re just run of the mill perverts. They came in here and had some unfriendly things to say about the way I look. I told them they could take their shit elsewhere.”

I nodded slowly. There wasn’t a word of truth in what she’d said, but I wasn’t going to call her out in front of everyone. I preferred to find out the truth on my own, especially now that I knew I couldn’t trust her.

Tara excused herself and kept her distance, chatting it up with other customers while I finished my beer. When I was finished, I slid some cash over the bar and pushed up from the stool. I waved goodbye to Frankie and then went back out into the bitter cold night. I’d parked my pops’ car around the back, so I pulled it around to a parking spot across the street from the pub and waited. Too cold to stand out here alone. Another hour and the pub would close up, and I could follow Tara to see where she might go. Something wasn’t right, and I had a feeling it started with her. Or at the very least, she knew way more than what she was willing to say.

I kept the engine idling to stay warm but left the lights off. When Tara exited the building, she didn’t so much as glance my way. She hurried down the block, getting swallowed up by the shadows between the streetlights before she hopped into a car. I waited until she was a few blocks ahead before slipping out into the street and pursuing her. I kept my distance but followed her every move, only stopping when she reached her destination. She parked, then I watched with an open mouth as she slipped out of her car and walked right through the front doors of O’Doul’s.