Why he lied is easy. He's a little man in more ways than one, and he took the chance to look like a big shot. In the club, he was boasting about ruthless exploits that weren't even his. He's a worthless piece of shit, which only fuels my fury.
"You thought you'd take credit for murder? Why? Because you're a cockless cocksucker who never amounted to shit? Tell you what, this can all end here if you tell me who the other guy was."
"I-I-I d-d-on't know man, I s-swear." A tinkling sound causes me to glance down at our feet. Growling, I inch away from him in disgust. The idiot pissed himself.
While he might have more information, he's not worth the risk or the effort, and I've had enough. I can find out the rest on my own. Besides, I'm good at sizing people up quickly and my gut tells me this guy doesn't know much. I've likely gotten most, if not all, that there is to get out of him.
"You breathe a word of this to anyone and you'll wish I'd killed you."
Slipping my arm around his neck, I hook his throat with my other hand behind his head, putting him into a sleeper hold. He tries squirming and protesting, fearing I'm going to snap his neck. The thought is tempting, the rage at learning my mother and Carys' father were murdered because of my father is enough to send me over the edge.
As he passes out, I carefully lay him out on the concrete, in his piss. It's small consolation, but I'll take what I can get.
After a quick scan of the area, I step into the open, casually walking down the street. Fishing my car keys from my pocket, my fingers graze cool metal and smooth stone-the engagement ring. Earlier, I took it out of the box and stared at it like a lovesick fool.
I slip my finger through the platinum band until it can go no further, barely halfway, and the ring sparkles.
///
It's only been three days with the ring in my possession, but that's three days too long. I'm going to ask her any day now. I'm finally going to marry the woman I love with all my life.
A niggling unease claws at my insides, even with my uncontrollable desire to propose. Why does tonight's discovery feel dire, like it changes everything?
Now
Evan
"SWEETNESS."
My tone is gruff; her name sounds strange to my ears, despite her constant presence in my mind. I swallow with difficulty, thanks to the bowling ball of nerves lodged in my throat. Fuck, my palms are sweaty.
Her dark hair-so black it's almost blue-tinged-fans as she twirls to face me. After two and a half years apart, it's unfathomable how close we are, so close I could touch her. Clenching my fists, I fight the fierce urge to hold her, knowing she wouldn't appreciate my bold gesture. To satisfy my craving, my eyes drink her in, every inch of her. I can't help but stare. She's breathtakingly beautiful.
Surprised aquamarine eyes nail me as she sucks in a jagged breath and drops the empty tray from her hand. The loud crash and subsequent reverberating clatter has all eyes in the bar on us. We're at the family bar, The Waters, and while it's not busy, just a handful of people eating lunch, it's more than I would prefer. Alone is how I want her.
Doing this here wasn't my preference. There was never going to be a perfect time. I'd been preparing to come back to her, trying to figure out how to tell them the truth. But now, I couldn't delay it any longer.
The asshole forced my hand. He got her a ring, a fucking engagement ring. I may not know his plans or timing, but I couldn't let him propose. No. Fucking. Way.
Time is of the essence. I'm in act now, deal with the consequences later mode.
"Evan." Her voice quivers and she sways, grabbing the bar to steady herself.
Stepping in my direction, she hesitates, the hint of a frown clouding her features. It's only a second, but time slows, practically stopping as a myriad of emotions skitter across her face. Is she feeling it too? The memories of our past hitting her in the chest? Memories of when we were together? When I left her, then when she was alone? Fuck, she's gonna kick me out.
Without warning, Carys hurtles at me, arms and legs hugging me, as she buries her face in my neck. I cling to her slender frame, one arm under her rear and the other around her back as her muffled sobs echo within my chest. I can't tell if they are tears of joy or sorrow.
Fuck. Holding her after all these years feeds my starved soul, fills my ravaged heart. It's heaven. Finally, I'm able to breathe - I've got my girl in my arms.
Her subtle coconut scent invades my senses, reinforcing my regret about what I had to walk away from. My cock twitches, happy to have her where she belongs. I can't smell coconut without getting hard. It's the same shampoo she used years ago, and both the familiarity and the newness comfort and excite me.