LLucy’s Revenge(Divine Creek Ranch 15)(2)

Pulling open the door of his truck, he slumped into the driver’s seat, too weary to climb all the way in and close the door and shut out the weather. He welcomed it, actually. Maybe the cold would ease the pain that lanced his heart like a hot poker.

Chloe!

“Hey, Beck!” Patrick called as he ran up to the truck, jerked open the passenger side door, and jumped in, swiping his hands through his short-cropped hair. “What happened?” He gestured at the phone still clutched in Beck’s hand.

Beck ducked his head, not caring that the wind blew the rain onto him, soaking him further and collecting in his hair and beard to drip from the clumped strands. It’d never been this long before and he imagined he looked as bad as he felt. “Don’t feel like talking about it.”

“Was it…Was it Chloe?” Patrick’s tone was cautious but compassionate and Beck nearly lost it. He regretted ever telling Patrick her name when he’d asked about the photo hanging on Beck’s wall.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He fiddled with the keys in his other hand and gritted his teeth when he got a glimpse of Chloe’s engagement ring on the key ring. “I need to leave.”

Patrick held his hand out. “You’ve had too much to drink. I’m the designated driver tonight, remember? And Lucy is still in the club.”

Lucy. He’d practically mowed her down trying to get out of the club. Guilt swamped him on numerous levels. Instead of toying with the attraction he’d felt for Lucy and his ménage fantasies, he should’ve been trying harder to get Chloe back. “Damn it.” All he wanted to do right now was escape but this Valentine’s evening outing had been his idea. Even though he hadn’t felt all that great, he’d been in the mood to get out for a while and it was the two of them that he’d wanted to do it with.

“Even though you cursed at her like a damned asshole, she’s in there worried about you.”

“I did? I didn’t mean to.” The guilt he felt for hurting her feelings deepened the pain. Fuck! I’m batting a thousand tonight. “I don’t even remember what I said.” Beck’s gaze was drawn to Patrick by the disgusted sound he made. The look on his face said it all.

“Are you coming back in?” He held his hand out for Beck’s key ring. Knowing he wasn’t in any shape to be driving, especially not in the rain, Beck handed him the keys.

“No, man. I’m staying out here. You go back inside…Have a good time.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Go. Tell Lucy…”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’ll apologize to her myself later. Go back inside. I need…I need to be alone.”

“All right. If that’s what you want.” Patrick climbed from the vehicle and sprinted back to the club through the storm. The rain made a rapid tapping sound as it pattered against his jeans and soaked them until he felt the water run into his work boots.

You’re pretty pathetic, aren’t you, O’Malley?

He stood from the driver’s seat and closed the door of the truck, not giving a shit about the rain. He was already soaked to the skin.

I’m not nearly drunk enough.

He set out across the parking lot for the state highway. Just up the road a ways was a liquor store. With any luck, he could make it there before they closed and find something to dull the ache in his chest as he walked home. In his present state of mind, a walk in the rain suited him just fine.

Not feeling the least little bit sorry for ourselves, are we?

Sometimes he wanted to grab that little inner voice of his and wring the motherfucker’s neck.

Chloe was always one to face what needed facing. She’d never been the type who avoided responsibility either. His friends had been kind to not speak too much about it, but he knew that several of them had gotten to know some of the residents of Lusty, Texas, where Chloe had moved to live with her sister, Carrie. She’d called him that night, most likely, because she didn’t want him to find out from anyone else that she was engaged. She still cared about his feelings, even if she was breaking his heart in the process.

He looked back at the receding lights of the club and the deserted street. The wind whipped around him, flinging frigid sheets of rain in his face and ruffling his long, drenched hair.

He reached the liquor store and the old man behind the counter didn’t bat an eyelash as he sold him a bottle of Jack Daniel’s Black Label and put it in a paper sack for him. He mopped up the puddle Beck had created on the floor in front of the counter as Beck walked back out into the rainstorm.

Now that he was properly armed, he went for the full torture, imagining Chloe as she’d dialed his number—