Tate lifted from his seat, pulling his cane from where it rested against his stool. "After our talk this morning, I thought I should come and see you. You sounded . . . off. Then Carter called me."
"I was worried," Carter blurted in explanation, compelling Kat to move closer to his side. "I didn't know what to do." She clutched Carter's hand.
Max sighed, guilt teasing his temples. "It's okay. Thank you."
"Look," Kat said to Carter, interrupting the awkward silence that filled the room. "Why don't you and I go and pick up some bread for dinner and leave these two to talk?"
Carter's troubled gaze stayed on Max, but he eventually nodded and made his way out of the kitchen. By the time the front door had closed and the sound of Carter's motorcycle had slowly disappeared into the distance, Max was sitting opposite Tate, clutching a glass of milk in one hand and his head in the other.
"Hell of a day, huh?" Tate began, his voice quiet.
Max closed his eyes, listening to the silence of the house, realization cloaking him. "I can't stay here."
Tate smiled sadly when Max looked up. "Not quite working out how you thought."
His statement hit the nail on the damned head. Max had tried so hard to fit back in. He'd tried to carry on, regardless of the weird feelings of dispassion and disconnection that clutched his heart, but it was no good. Seeing Carter and Kat together after the night he'd had, coupled with the cravings that still burned the back of his throat, had tipped him over the edge. He didn't blame them. Jesus, they'd both done all they could to welcome him into their home and make him comfortable. And yet it simply wasn't enough.
"I don't want to go back to my apartment," Max stated. "I don't want to go back to the city just yet." Besides being too busy and loud for him to deal with, the place was filled to the fucking brim with temptation, reeking of bad history and worse habits.
"I'll support you no matter what you decide," Tate said. "You know what you need better than anyone else. But make sure you're making the decision to better yourself, not because you're scared and running away."
Max scoffed. "But I am scared," he confessed. "I'm fucking terrified." His voice broke and he growled in exasperation. "I don't want to let anyone down, or upset anyone. I've done too much of both in my life."
"But this is about what's best for you, Max," Tate urged. "Nobody else. If you need to be selfish, be selfish! And believe me, your friends only want what's best for you."
Max fisted his hair. "I don't want them to think I'm not grateful. I am. I just . . . need to be away from all of this for a while." He sniffed. "I thought I'd started to find myself again, but now I feel more lost than when I fucking started. I don't know where I belong."
Tate's hand touched Max's arm. "Then go and find out."
The bar was as busy as expected for a game night. The banter and cursing had already begun in earnest as the Orioles fell behind by three, with beer and food being ordered in tandem with each pitch. Not that Grace minded. On the contrary, she'd grown to like the atmosphere of Whiskey's, and the fact that many of the regulars had started to warm to her made it even better. They'd been wary for a while but, thankfully, Holly had been integral to Grace's being accepted into the fray. It was laughable, really, but that was bar politics for you.
"Grace, can I have another draft, please?"
"Sure, Earl," she answered with a smile. "You're not watching the game?"
Earl lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. "Not this bunch of idiots," he huffed. "Let me know when the Washington Nationals are playin' and we'll talk."
"No problem," Grace replied with a laugh as she placed Earl's beer in front of him while simultaneously lifting his ten-dollar bill from the bar.
"Hey, pretty lady. How are you?" Grace smiled shyly at Caleb's greeting as he sat himself down next to Earl at the bar and grabbed a handful of peanuts. She pulled a bottle of Heineken from the fridge and handed it to him.
"I'm good. And you?" She was constantly polite with the deputy; after all, he was a paying customer and he was always pleasant and charming enough. Nevertheless, Kai's distaste for him on his last visit had planted a far from innocuous seed of caution in her belly. Despite Grace's need to prove a point and be free in making her own decisions in life, her momma had always taught both her and Kai to listen to their guts. Not that her gut distrusted the deputy, of course, but she was guarded all the same.
Caleb grinned and dipped his head. "I'm just great. The Baileys' place is looking mighty impressive. Shouldn't be long before you're in there, huh?"