Whiskey (Brewed Book 2)

by Molly McAdams

  “Congratulations, by the way,” I murmured thickly, sparing a glance at my brother before focusing on her again. “I know I didn’t get to say that the other two times, but, um . . . Sawyer always told me. He told me a couple months ago about Levi.”

  Her tear-filled eyes studied me for a moment, head moving in subtle shakes before she turned and left just as quickly as she’d rushed in.

  “Told you to get out,” Beau said in a low, lethal growl when I opened my mouth to call after her.

  To apologize. To assure them both I wasn’t trying to ruin anything else.

  To ask how we were supposed to fix anything if this is what they kept doing.

  “Beau,” Sawyer said when he joined us in the entryway, disappointment so deep in that one word. His voice lowered to a hushed plea when he continued. “Come on, man. Don’t do this.”

  Beau stepped away from me and gestured toward the door. “You want him here? Then you’re more than fucking welcome to leave with him.”

  Sawyer’s stare darted between the two of us a few times before he said, “I told Cayson to come. That it would be okay.” He took another step forward, his voice lowering even more but taking on an urgent edge. “We need this.”

  A sharp, mocking laugh burst from Beau as he started away from me, shoving past Sawyer as he did. “Like I said, you’re welcome to leave with him.”

  Wasn’t even sure what I felt when Sawyer looked at me again, hopelessness pouring from him.

  I was such a frenzied mess of frustration and humiliation and defeat that I kinda just stood there for a minute before reaching for the handle behind me.

  “Cays,” he began, hand lifting a little at his side as if to reach for me. “I’m sorry. Just wait—give them a minute.”

  My chest pitched, my head shaking at his inability to see the situation.

  “Gotta go,” I said, the words nothing more than a rumble.

  Sawyer’s shoulders fell, his head shaking a bit before he started nodding. “Let me get Rae, and we’ll head out.”

  I paused with the door in my grip and Rae’s words in my head.

  “He’s held this weight, sure if he wasn’t there for her just once, it would be what shattered her fading hope of your family ever coming together again.”

  “You and I both know you need to be here.”

  The intense conflict playing out on his face showed exactly how much he was struggling with what to do.

  I gestured to the hidden kitchen with a jerk of my chin. “Be here,” I said on a breath and then stepped outside.

  “Cays, wait,” he called out, following me outside and pulling his keys from his pocket. “Here.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m gonna walk.”

  His head slanted as a defeated laugh crawled up his throat. “Take the truck,” he nearly begged. “I feel like shit for this whole thing. I should’ve listened to you or—” He dragged his free hand through his hair, gripping at it before letting his arm fall to his side. “Fuck, I don’t know. I just shouldn’t have forced you to come.”

  I scoffed. “You can’t force me to do anything. I’ve done what I wanted for a long time.” Pressing a hand to my chest, I started down the steps and forced a smirk. “Clearly. Or what happened in there wouldn’t have.”

  His heavy sigh followed me as I turned and jogged the rest of the way down the steps and onto the driveway, screaming his indecision.

  Whether it was guilt or worry that I might skip town before they got home, I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter.

  He needed to stay.

  Without looking back, I called out to ease some of his worry. “See you when y’all get back.”

  The front door didn’t shut until I’d almost reached the end of the driveway.

  Still, I didn’t stop. I kept my back straight and expression impassive until I was out of sight of the bed and breakfast and the family tucked inside.

  With a ragged exhale, I let my body sag under the strain as that destructive storm of emotions crashed through me.

  As the few minutes inside that house replayed again and again until I was sure their anger and pain were permanently imbedded in my soul.

  For a moment, I wondered if everything would be different if they knew the truth.

  If they knew what they’d missed for so many years.

  But as fast as the thought entered my mind, I pushed it out.

  Their anger was real.

  Their hesitation was warranted.

  Buying my way back into the good graces of my family by rocking their worlds with truths was something I wasn’t willing to do.

  Hell, I wasn’t even sure they would be open to hearing those truths when they were this mad.

  I’d barely hinted at it, and Sawyer had thrown punches.

  Gripping the back of my neck, I looked up and realized I’d somehow made it to the main part of town while trapped in my thoughts. Immediately, my attention shifted to the shop a block away.

  To the large windows that revealed the glow from the industrial lights against the evening sky, enticing people to come inside.

  Offering a solace from the bullshit of the day.

  Concealing a hostile girl that set every nerve ending on fire.

  I slipped in through the double doors on the bar’s side of Brewed and made my way to the barstools that lined the front of the long stretch of dark, polished wood.

  Loud conversations died about the second the doors shut behind me, and whispers started up once I was seated at the bar.

  Same as they had when I’d come in here the other night.

  “Cayson.” It was rough and clipped and followed by him clearing his throat. As if he wasn’t sure how to respond to my being there.

  Also the same as the other night.

  “Hey there, Brady,” I said on a sigh and leaned back, drumming my hands on the bar top as I waited to see if he would follow it up with what he had last time.

  He glanced to the side, his jaw working for a few seconds as he considered what to do before he said, “You know how Em feels about you being in here.”

  My chest pitched with an exhausted laugh.

  And there it is.

  Only difference was Emberly’s mom had rounded the corner right about that moment and decided I could stay so she could have a long-awaited heart-to-heart with me.

  “Yeah, hard to forget.” I slid off the stool, sarcasm rolling off my tongue when I mumbled, “Guess I do need brotherly supervision to be in here.”

  Brady slanted his head in something resembling a nod, looking all kinds of uncomfortable.

  “It’s all right. Really,” I said in assurance. “I didn’t come here to bother her.”

  I turned to leave and realized the reason Brady looked uncomfortable might not have been because of me at all when I came face to face with Emberly Olsen.

  Eyes wide.

  Teeth digging into her bottom lip like she was trying to stop herself from saying anything.

  “Hey.” It came out on a breath, and it was all I seemed to be able to say.

  I was frozen, waiting for something.

  For her expression to shift, for her to continue kicking me out, something.

  I’d seen her a few times over the last couple of days between her stopping by the house and Sawyer and Rae dragging me to Brewed for lunches. Other than slanted glares in my direction, there hadn’t been a word from her.

  But this was different.

  I was coming to her alone, and I was pretty damn sure I just might lose my mind if I didn’t talk to her again.

  The real her.

  Her head finally shifted, breaking our eye contact, and she let her stare fall to the floor as she blinked rapidly.

  Her chest heaved with an exaggerated breath and her tongue darted out to wet her lips as her gaze snapped back to me.

  Narrowed.

  Untrusting.

  But something deeper swirled there that I was aching to dig into and explore.

  “Then why did
you come here?”

  “What?” I asked absently, still caught on her eyes and what she was struggling so hard to hide.

  “You didn’t come here to bother me, then why are you here?” Her chin was lifted in preparation for my answer, in defensiveness.

  And it ate away at another piece of me.

  That I’d hurt her so badly that she felt the need to be this way around me when I knew differently.

  I lifted my hands out a little before letting them fall as I struggled to think of an answer that wouldn’t have her sending me to the door.

  You.

  I had nowhere else to go.

  You.

  My family fucking hates me.

  You.

  “Just wanted to grab dinner,” I finally said, the lie thick as it fell from my tongue.

  One of her brows rose in disbelief, and she shifted her weight, letting her hip jut out and bringing her arms in front of her to cradle the large pizza boxes she was holding.

  I hadn’t even noticed them until that moment.

  I hadn’t been able to look away from her face.

  “Food, huh?” she said with a little of that bite she’d given that first night. “It’s Sunday.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Which means there’s currently a family dinner happening that I know you’re supposed to be at considering how excited Sawyer was this afternoon.”

  Halfway through her reminder that sounded more like an accusation, I’d straightened. My jaw clenching tight and gaze bouncing around the bar area—briefly landing on the people who weren’t even bothering to look anywhere but at us as they listened intently.

  Waiting for anything to gossip about in this town.

  “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you skipped out on that too,” Emberly said brashly, but her expression abruptly fell when my eyes found hers again. Looking up at me like whatever she saw on my face was what she’d waited for . . . expected.

  Just wasn’t sure what that was. I also had no intention of fulfilling that expectation.

  With a nod, I turned and started back for the bar with Emberly right behind me.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when I sat down, equal amounts of irritation, surprise, and fury weaving through her hushed tone.

  I kept my focus straight ahead. Watching Brady’s reaction as he looked between the two of us, trying to determine if he needed to kick me out before he was called away.

  “Bothering you,” I said once he left, as if it should’ve been obvious.

  Boxes of food were set on the bar beside me and then she was nearly pressed against me, a destructive mixture of her anger and disappointment slamming into me.

  “This guy you keep expecting me to be? I don’t know him anymore,” I said before she could lay into me again and turned to look into her wide, hazel eyes. “What can I do to make you understand that?”

  Shame and pain crossed her face before everything suddenly faded away to nothing when a pair of hands snaked around my waist and a vaguely familiar voice sounded in my ear. “Hey there, stranger.”

  I tried to slide from the stool and was pulled back in the possessive hold.

  Glancing over my shoulder and reaching for the clinging hands, confusion gave way to old irritations when I saw Caroline Bowman’s wicked smile behind me.

  “Caro—shit, Emberly,” I bit out when I caught sight of her quickly weaving through the bar.

  “Sure has been a long time,” Caroline said, her grip tightening as I tried to pry it away. “But I never doubted you’d come back for me.”

  A harsh scoff burst from me as I finally disentangled myself from her and staggered a few steps away. Another curse falling from my lips when I saw Emberly slip through the door that led to the back.

  Brady watched her disappear from where he was serving a drink near the other end of the bar. When he glanced at me, his cold, protective glare said it all.

  Get out.

  Don’t come back.

  Mine.

  If his feelings for her hadn’t been obvious before, they would’ve been then.

  “Although, I’ll admit,” Caroline continued, voice dropped in a mock-whisper, “I almost stopped waiting.”

  My brows furrowed in annoyance as I started away from her, in the direction Emberly had gone, but she followed.

  With each second out there, wasted on someone like Caroline, I felt myself growing more restless. Anxious.

  To get to Emberly.

  To talk to her.

  “Only so long a girl can hold off when options are lining up at her door, if you know what I mean. But none of them know how to treat me quite like you.”

  Another scoff sounded in my throat and ended in something dangerously close to a growl when Caroline grabbed my hand. Expertly wrapping her body under my arm and tucking herself close, so every part of her was pressed against every part of me in one swift move.

  When I moved to untangle myself again, she wove our other hands together. Gripping tight and pulling our joined fingers to the nonexistent space between our bodies.

  “Stop,” I hissed, yanking my hand free. My eyes darted to the people lounging and standing around the bar area, watching every move I made.

  “Why don’t you take me somewhere?” she asked coyly and all too loudly. “Show me how much you missed me.”

  “Missed you?” I said with a sneering laugh as I separated myself once again. “I hadn’t thought of you once until you showed up in this bar.”

  A smile lit her face as if she thought I was being adorable. “Tease.”

  My head shook as I moved to walk around her. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

  Fingers like claws sank into my arm, keeping me in place, and then she was breathing her toxic reminders at my side. “I won’t let you embarrass me this way again, Cayson Dixon. You walk out of this bar with me, or I tell everyone about your little secret.”

  I stared straight ahead at where Emberly had gone.

  At the door that was beckoning me forward.

  Looking to the girl at my side, I lowered my voice, ensuring no one would hear. “Go on and tell them.” At the surprised lift of her brows, I said, “Tell them all how you’re a fucking psychopath. You’ve got nothing on me. Not anymore.”

  I tugged the brightly-colored paper off my locker, the bolded words on top and bottom screaming their announcement while the dozens upon dozens of smaller words between whispered their taunts.

  None of them meant anything or made any sense.

  Trying to focus on any one of them only made the word shift.

  Each letter continually changing as if the words were playing a fucked-up game only I could see.

  My stare darted over the paper frantically, desperately trying to catch a word before it could change. Demanding my mind to understand what was before me.

  My chest pitched.

  My breathing quickened as anger and embarrassment flooded me.

  Closing my hand into a fist, I stood there, half-crumpled piece of offending paper suspended in air, just staring at my locker.

  Not seeing anything.

  “Oh my God.”

  My head snapped to the side and I made quick work of balling up the rest of the paper as I schooled my expression, my eyes narrowing on Caroline.

  “What are you doing here?” I ground out as I reached for my lock.

  School had ended nearly an hour before, but I’d been in detention.

  Again.

  “I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure, so I’ve been watching you.”

  My brows drew together as I twisted the lock one last time and then opened it and my locker. “I might be flattered if that weren’t creepy.”

  She leaned against the locker next to mine, lips tilted up in something like excitement, eyes dancing with all kinds of cruel intent. “Cayson, do you not know how to read?”

  My blood turned to ice.

  Shards splintering as dread and mortification swarmed me.

&nbs
p; My nostrils flared and jaw ached as I clenched my teeth, staring into the depths of my locker, telling myself she hadn’t asked that.

  She hadn’t seen.

  Slanting my head in something resembling denial, I dropped the balled-up paper into my locker and reached for the backpack I’d shoved in there that morning.

  “Read this,” she said all giddy and shit, as if the possibility of my inability to read excited her, and shoved a piece of lined paper in front of me.

  I tried.

  I tried so damn hard.

  After getting by for eighteen years, there was no goddamn way Caroline Bowman was going to be the one to figure me out a month before graduation.

  But the harder I focused, the faster the letters jumped and moved.

  The louder the words mocked me.

  I was shaking by the time Caroline lowered the paper with a haughty laugh. “Oh my God!” she nearly shouted. “I don’t believe it. The great Cayson Dixon doesn’t know how to—”

  Her gasp and the sound of her back meeting the lockers were lost.

  Lost in my head.

  Lost in the rage storming through me.

  But her eyes, the way they lit with hunger and intrigue and malice . . . I fucking saw that.

  “You weren’t about to finish that,” I said meaningfully. “And I’m positive you don’t know a goddamn thing.”

  “I’m not too sure about that,” she said calmly—too calm. After a few seconds, she touched one of my hands where I was keeping her shoulders pinned to the locker and trailed her fingers up my arm. “What’s in it for me?”

  The moment her fingers wrapped around my arm possessively, I jerked back, taking a few steps away. “Nothing.”

  “I think I deserve something,” she said coyly as she took a step forward. “After all, I need incentive to keep my mouth shut.” She reached out, gripping my shirt. “A kiss might just do that.”

  A huff crawled up my throat. “I’m with Brooke.”

  Her mouth fell into something I was sure was meant to look like a pout. “She doesn’t ever have to know.”

  My head shook as I turned, removing her grip from my shirt as I did. “No.”

  “Think of what people will say,” she goaded, following but remaining a few steps behind. “Think of what they’ll do.”