Letting Go (Vista Falls #3) (18 page)

Colt Sr. slept most of the time. Even when he did wake briefly, he’d looked at his son with an impassive expression before he drifted off again.

“So listen,” Colt said finally, when he couldn’t stand the incessant beeping of machines another second. “This is probably gonna be my last chance to say these things. I know it won’t matter much to you. You probably can’t even hear me. Even if you could, you wouldn’t understand.”

Colt stared at his weathered face, looking for some reaction. Nothing.

“But I guess that was always the problem, wasn’t it? You didn’t understand… what you were doing to us, how much you hurt us. Or maybe you didn’t care. You told me a hundred times that you never wanted to be a father. But then, you never were, were you?”

The rage Colt had felt seeing him again gave way to the kind of sadness Joe had talked about earlier. Colt wasn’t sad his father was dying, but he was sad that he’d never had a dad who loved him.

“You always said you’d make a man of me eventually. You said being a man meant taking your licks, never whining or complaining, never showing emotion. Just taking it. I got real good at taking it. But I got even better at dishing it out.” Colt could almost hear the satisfying crunch of bones breaking that time he’d broken two of his old man’s ribs.

“It seemed you were almost proud of me the first time I fought back. So that’s what I did from then on—I fought back. It wasn’t about holding you off anymore, to prevent you from hurting me. It was about hurting you. I wanted to hurt you.”

Colt sucked in a deep breath as he looked at his scarred hands. He could almost see the imprint of his father’s teeth on his knuckles from the time he’d knocked out his front tooth. “I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me. I knew I could never make you bleed emotionally, but I sure as hell could make you bleed. And I did. I made you bleed.”

He looked at the machines monitoring the vital signs, wondering how much longer he had to get it all off his chest before the monitors told him his time was up.

“If I’d stayed, I would have killed you eventually. That’s why I left. I didn’t want to go to jail.” He fought back tears as he whispered, “And I didn’t want to be the one to kill you. I didn’t think you deserved to go on living after what you did to us, but I didn’t want to be the one to end your life.”

He stood and curled his hands around the metal bed rail. “So it looks like the time has finally come for you to meet your Maker, old man.” He drew a shaky breath. “Good luck to you. I hope he can forgive you.”

After they pronounced his father dead, Colt drove Gabby home. She’d invited him to spend the night, but he said he needed some time alone to think. And drink. He couldn’t stand the thought of spending the night in a place that didn’t feel like home, so he drove to the inn, one of his favorite places to hang out when he was a teenager.

The front desk clerk signed him in and handed over a room key, so he headed straight for the bar and ordered a double shot of vodka, hoping to feel the numbing effects as soon as possible.

“Hey, handsome.”

Colt drained his glass before tapping the bar for another. He barely spared the redhead a glance, but he knew it was the same girl who’d hit on him at Rusty’s when he first came back to town. “Hey.”

“You feel like a little company tonight?”

On a night like this, Colt would have loved nothing more than to get loaded and get lost in some sexy stranger, but now he had Gabby to think about. He wouldn’t do that to her. “I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“I know. Gabby. I wasn’t suggesting we head to your room or anything. You just look like you might want to talk.”

“How do you know I have a room?” he asked, shooting her a sidelong glance.

She was spilling out of a short black dress, and her five-inch strappy sandals made her long legs look even longer. She gestured to the key. “I have one too. I’m here for a bachelorette party. The rest of the girls headed to their rooms already, probably passed out by now.” She pouted. “But I wasn’t ready to call it a night.” She curled her hand around his forearm, pressing her breasts against his shoulder. “Now I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Look,” he said, trying to inch away from her, “I’m sure you’re a real nice girl…?”

“Brenna, but my friends call me Bren.”

“Right, Brenna. But, uh, like I said earlier, I’m really into Gabby, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to give her the impression I was messing around on her.” Colt looked around and noted that most of the people in the bar seemed more interested in the live entertainment than anything he may or may not have been doing with some beautiful stranger. Still, that didn’t give him a pass. He was emotionally beat up, but Gabby trusted him, and that meant he had to walk away.

Brenna watched him finish his second double before she said, “You ever just need someone to talk to? Someone who doesn’t know you and won’t judge you?”

“Sure, but—”

“Maybe I just need a friend tonight, Colt. Think you can handle that?”

He noticed tears forming in her green eyes. The last thing he wanted her to do was turn on the waterworks. Seeing his sister cry when the nurse announced their father was gone had been more than he could handle. Seeing another woman cry tonight would surely do him in. “Sure, as long as we’re clear about the ground rules. We can talk, but that’s it.”

She blinked, extending her hand for him to shake. “Deal.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

Colt ordered her drink and another for himself before turning to face her. “So what’s got you so down tonight?” Focusing on her problems meant he wouldn’t have to think about his.

“You know how many bachelorette parties I’ve been to in the last year?” She held up three fingers, waving them in front of his face. “When is it gonna be my turn?” She pointed at her bare ring finger. “When am I gonna meet a guy who wants to put a ring on it? Who won’t run the other way when I suggest he meet my parents?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe you just haven’t met the right guy.”

“I thought I had.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“Gabby.”

Colt narrowed his eyes as he started to feel the effects of the alcohol. “What?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She sipped her drink. “Dave and I had gone out a couple of times before he called me up and told me he’d started seeing Gabby. He said he was really into her and couldn’t see me anymore.”

“Huh.” Colt didn’t want to think about Gabby being with another man even though she’d assured him she and Dave never slept together.

Brenna glanced at the bartender and pointed at Colt’s empty glass. Before he knew it, he had another refill. It was his third—or was it his fourth double? If he couldn’t remember, he’d probably had enough.

“Then I meet you. And surprise, surprise, you won’t give me the time of day either. Why? Gabby!” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, it’s becoming a theme in my life.”

“Look, if you’re gonna trash talk my girlfriend because you think she stole your boyfriend”—he pointed at an empty table—“you best think about moving on ‘cause I don’t want to hear it.” He wouldn’t stand for anyone saying anything bad about Gabby. Especially after today. It had been one of the toughest days of his life, and as promised, she’d barely left his side. Gabby had proved she was someone he could count on. Now he needed to prove the same to her.

“Fine,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned on the bar facing him. “No more Gabby talk. Okay, you heard my problem. What’s yours?”

“My father died today.”

Her jaw dropped before her hand covered his. “Oh my God, Colt, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you say something? Here I am going on about my trivial little problems, and you just lost someone you love. I feel terrible.”

“It’s okay,” he said, using the hand she’d covered to grab his glass. “We weren’t close.”

He suspected he should have been sad. His sister was. But he’d never been big on pretending to feel something he didn’t, and acting as though his life would be worse because his father was gone would have felt hypocritical. He wasn’t callous enough to say he felt relieved, but maybe his father’s death meant his mother could truly move on with her life instead of living in limbo—not really married but not yet free. Now she was free. They all were.

“When’s the funeral?” Brenna asked gently.

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Colt couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to say farewell to his father. He didn’t think the old man had had any friends. But his mother would want to go through the motions of a proper send-off, and for her sake, they would. And he would write the check… with a grimace on his face and bitterness in his heart. Because it represented one more thing he felt obligated to do for a man who’d done nothing for him.

“Well, let me know. I’d like to come and pay my respects.”

“Why?” Colt raised an eyebrow as he tipped back his glass. “You didn’t know him, and you don’t know me.”

She shrugged. “It’s a small town, Colt. When someone passes, we all go to pay our respects.”

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as the shelved bottles across from him started to lose focus. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.” He was slurring now. He’d definitely had enough.

Brenna curled her arm around his, leaning into him. He should have told her to back off, but forming words took effort and he couldn’t summon the energy.

She reached across the bar for his room’s old-fashioned metal key and turned it over to look at the number stamped on the key chain. “Look at that. We’re neighbors. Why don’t I walk back with you? I’m going to call it a night too.”

“Sure, why not?” he muttered. He didn’t think it was the best idea he’d ever heard, especially if someone saw them leaving together and reported back to Gabby, but it was innocent. Besides, he didn’t trust himself to find his way back to his room without a little help. He pulled out his wallet, tapping it on the bar. “Gotta pay the bill.”

She smiled, taking his wallet. “Honey?” she said to the bartender. “Charge our drinks to Colt’s room?” She checked the key ring in her hand. “107.”

He winked at Brenna before sliding a look at Colt. “You got it, guys. Y’all have a good night.”

Colt sensed the bartender thought they were a couple or would be for the night. He considered correcting him, but when he moved his lips, nothing came out.

“Come on, let’s go,” Brenna said, jumping off her bar stool while Colt tried to do the same.

He stumbled, nearly knocking the stool over.

“It’s okay, big guy,” she said, looping his arm around her neck and hers around his waist. “I’ve got you. Let’s go.”

They passed the front desk clerk, who seemed curious but nodded politely and wished them a good night.

Colt was grateful there were no elevators in this building. All the rooms were on one floor. He trusted himself to be in an elevator with Brenna without making a move on her—he’d never get that drunk—but he was concerned if she made a move, he wouldn’t have the wherewithal to fight her off. Now he understood why well-meaning friends advised girls not to get drunk and go home with strangers. Lowered inhabitations spelled the kind of trouble he definitely didn’t need.

After walking for what felt like miles, while Colt concentrated on not bouncing off the walls while Brenna tried to hold him up, she finally announced they were at his room.

“Thank God,” he muttered, leaning heavily against the door. “I can take it from here.” It sounded as if he had a mouthful of marbles. “I’m just gonna crash.”

Brenna laughed as she fit the key in the lock and pulled him back so he wouldn’t do a face-plant when she opened the door. “Maybe I should help you get into bed. I’d feel terrible if you hurt yourself.”

Probably a bad idea. But as he staggered inside, he muttered, “Whatever.” The bed was in his sights, and all he could think about was crawling under the sheets and forgetting this day had ever happened.

***

“God, baby.” Colt woke up to Gabby’s hair blanketing his chest while she moved slowly down his body, dropping kisses as she went.

It wasn’t until he sank his hands into her hair just before she reached the promised land that he had a flashback from last night. He hadn’t been with Gabby!

His eyes flew open, and he saw a mass of red hair masking what he knew would be a familiar face. “What the hell?” He yanked Brenna’s hair harder than he intended, trying to get her off of him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Her smile was smug as she licked her lips. “Thought you might be ready for round three. If you’re not, I can wait.”

Colt glanced to his left and saw two empty condom wrappers on the floor. “No!” He grabbed his head, pulling his hair as he struggled to get out from under her. “No, this can’t be happening. I didn’t… we didn’t…”

But how could he ignore the evidence? They were naked in his bed with condom wrappers surrounding them. He couldn’t remember a thing, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. Did it?

“You were just gonna help me inside…” he said, racking his brain to try to remember what had happened after that. He was drawing a blank.

“I know, but as soon as I closed the door, you threw me against it and started kissing me. Next thing I knew, you were tearing my clothes off. It was hot as hell.” She grabbed her dress off the floor, holding it up by the broken strap. “See what I mean? You were wild.”

That sounded like something he would do. He liked aggressive sex when he was angry and drunk.

“For the record,” she said, tracing her finger down his chest, “I loved every second of it.”

“Don’t. Touch. Me.”

He glared at her, though he knew she wasn’t to blame. He was. How could he have been stupid enough to get drunk in a bar with a woman who’d already expressed an interest in sleeping with him? Sure, he’d had one of the worst days of his life and needed to escape for a while, but he’d intended to do it alone. He leaned forward, gripping his spinning head while she collapsed on the pillow next to him.

“God, how did I let this happen?” He moaned as tears burned his eyes. He hadn’t cried in years… since the night he’d been forced to leave Gabby for the first time. “What’s wrong with me? Why do I keep screwing everything up?”