I unlocked my door and slipped inside. Gizmo met me at the door, winding around my ankles. “Hey, buddy.” I bent to scoop him up and his purr made my chest ache as I cuddled him close. He bumped my chin with the top of his head, nuzzling me before his little sandpaper tongue rasped over my neck.
How on earth could I give him up?
I had to figure out something.
EIGHT
I parked my truck near the gazebo in the heart of Main Street in Crescent Cove. When I shut the door, I winced at the LITTLE DICK screaming from the silver paint. Already, paint chips were flaking off around the gouges.
Damn woman.
I should have called the cops on her superior ass. That was going to be annoying as hell to fix. I swiped at the scratches to see how surface they were. Unless I buffed it out myself.
Nope. My grinder was packed away in a storage pod with the rest of my gear. I’d almost sold it all, but tools for metal sculpting weren’t exactly a Craig’s List kind of offering. Maybe I could use some of it on the rehab of my house. But the idea of opening that locker made my eyeballs pulse.
I spotted the sign for Kramer & Burns Custom a few doors down from Brewed Awakening. I was pretty sure it was the same logo from the card Dahlia had given me. Their bay door was open, and I was tempted to go in and check them out, but I resisted the urge. I was just delaying the inevitable.
I shoved my keys into my jeans pocket. They were still stiff and new. I’d had to buy new clothes since all mine had random holes in them from my welding tools. Even the burn holes were too much for me to look at these days.
I scrubbed my hand over my face, then I pinched the bridge of my nose. The ever-present ache behind my eyes was returning. At least this time there was no optical-related light show to go with it. I stepped up on the sidewalk and lifted my face to the breeze off of Crescent Lake. The sky was churning as the water lapped at the pier that led out to a sightseeing spot.
A storm was definitely brewing.
The once blue sky was now a gunmetal gray and the sun struggled behind the heavy clouds. I appreciated the cooler temperatures at the very least. Today had been hot and sweaty work. I glanced at the diner. It would be easier to eat there and hope no one paid attention to me, but that was just me wanting to avoid the current task on my slate.
“Just suck it up,” I muttered to myself and stepped off the sidewalk and loped across the road to the café. The Haunt, Macy’s restaurant, was right next door. She could be in either location.
Or hell, she could be home with her family.
But I could almost feel her here. The café had her stamp on it just as much as the horror-themed restaurant I’d seen in photos. The front window of the café had a skeleton in a beach chair with a treasure chest full of spooky merchandise. Some with her logo and others with her favorite movies. A crochet bat sat on the skeleton’s shoulder with another yarn crow perched on the arm of the chair with its wings outstretched as if it was mid-takeoff.
I grinned at the mix of ridiculousness that was so much a part of my sister.
At least the part of my sister I remembered.
The horror movies, the all black clothes, and rude T-shirts were just a few notable parts of her. Her long dark hair was a few shades darker than my own. But I also remembered the big, wounded eyes. She’d wanted to believe in my mother and father. I’d watched her get harder each year, and with every passing one, I’d stayed away for longer chunks of time.
Guilt, as heavy as the metal I forced to bend to my will, tried to crush me.
My hand stilled on the door handle of the café when I spotted her behind the counter. Her hair was short now. Almost severe with a strip of teal blended through the choppy bangs in the front. She was smiling at someone working beside her. A lush blond with a huge friendly smile and pink cheeks. Both women were wearing the same aprons featuring the logo for Brewed Awakening, only my sister was in her usual black and the blond was in a cotton candy pink.
“Coming or going, man?” A voice came from behind me.
“Sorry.” I swung the door open, and the guy followed me in. He was my height but had me by at least twenty pounds of muscle. He had sawdust on his shoulders and in the creases of his work pants.
He went right to the counter and my sister gave him a devilish smile. “What are you doing back so early?” She rushed around the counter and jumped into his arms.
I rocked back on my heels. I knew she was married, but I’d only seen a grainy photo from the local newspaper. I knew his name was John Gideon and that I had a niece and nephew—one by blood.
“I got back early.” He boosted her up and gave her an unexpectedly hot kiss for the middle of a café.
I looked away. It seemed far too intimate for me to watch. I knew I didn’t know a damn thing about her life anymore, but this seemed like an even bigger rift than I imagined. When I’d deposited her here all those years ago, that had been the last time I’d seen her. We’d fought before I left.
Her blaming me for always escaping when things got hard.
She was right.
I didn’t have any defense against her claims, and I’d run back to Chicago and thrown myself back into work.
And the time had gotten longer between contacts.
Until there were none.
She slid down the big dude’s body and reached around to pinch his ass.
God, kill me. She stepped back, and then our gazes locked.
Shock widened her eyes and her icy blue gaze slammed into me. Those eyes, so much like our mother’s. I carried our father’s dark, dark blue.
She pushed the big dude aside and stalked over to me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hey, Mace.”
“Don’t ‘hey, Mace’ me. You have the nerve to walk in here with just a ‘hey, Mace.’” Her shock and anger slid into worry right before she pushed my hair back. “What the hell?”
I leaned back, away from her touch. “Don’t.”
