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The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor(39)

By:Anna J. Stewart


When had her fingers been tipped with fire? Everywhere she touched him it was as if he came alive, nerve endings he’d forgotten were reigniting. He slammed his eyes shut until he saw stars not unlike the ones that had hit when he’d been blindsided. “I’ve had worse.” He didn’t need this. Didn’t need her. Touching him. Caring about him. Being nice to him.

He didn’t deserve it. And he didn’t want it.

“So I see.” She tossed aside the cloth and picked up a new, clean one. She swiped the towel over his shoulder, his back, around to his chest.

“Okay.” He jumped to his feet, going the long way around the chair to retrieve the shirt. He needed to put some distance between them. “Thanks, Holly.”

“You’re welcome.” She sniffed and beelined for the trash can. “Boy, that’s some strong beer.”

“Yeah.” And the stench was curling his stomach. “I’d forgotten how pungent the cheap stuff can be.” Not to mention damaging in the wrong hands.

He’d had enough adrenaline coursing through his system to guarantee he was headed for a crash, and with it, his past would rear up and take another shot at him. There would be no stopping the nightmares tonight.

“How did Rex Winters do this much damage?” Holly asked.

“It wasn’t Rex.”

“I thought Simon said—”

“Simon?” Luke interrupted. “How does Simon know what happened?”

“He said he was riding by the community center on his bike and saw you putting Rex into Fletch’s car. He said you were covered in blood and could barely walk.”

Luke tried to remember seeing Simon when he and Fletch had pulled up to the station. He couldn’t. The last time he’d seen Simon had been at the diner with Charlie.

“It wasn’t Rex who hit me,” Luke told her. “It was Kyle.”

“Oh, no.” He understood the sympathy now and shared it. To a point. “Why would he do that?”

“Hang on. Fletch!” Luke carried the garbage can to the door as Fletch opened it. “Toss this in the trash outside, will you? The smell’s making me sick.”

“Gray always said smelling alcohol made him want a drink almost more than drinking it,” Holly said as her eyes went wide as he closed the door. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. They say scent memories bring on the strongest reactions.”

“I’d agree.” But since she’d brought it up... “I don’t remember Gray being much of a drinker.” An occasional beer here and there, but it wasn’t as if he was hanging out at the beach drinking himself stupid like so many of the rest of them, Luke included.

“Yeah, well. He was really good at hiding it.” She sat on the edge of his desk and hugged her arms around her torso, as if keeping a chill off. The pale green shirt she had on today reminded Luke of summer grass, freshly mown and smelling of fresh air and promise. “He was good at hiding a lot of things. Until he couldn’t. Gray could go weeks without touching a drop but then he’d see something, smell something, and the next thing I knew, he’d be gone for days. I guess we were lucky that he did try to stay sober.” Holly let out a sad laugh. “How’s that for a silver lining?”

“You have to find them where you can.” He was still trying to process the fact that do-no-wrong Gray Campbell had been anything other than the perfect husband. He’d had everything Luke had ever dreamed of—a loving wife, a great kid, a home... More proof you never knew what was going on behind closed doors. “I take it he never got sober?”

“Given his blood alcohol was twice the legal limit the night he died? No.” There was regret in her eyes, but the anger sparked over it. “I lost track of how many promises he made. I think in some ways, he felt stuck here. As if he wanted something more he’d never had a chance to pursue. I felt guilty about it, after he died.” She swiped her hand across her forehead as if catching a stray hair. “That maybe it was my fault he drank. He knew I’d never leave Butterfly Harbor and Dad. I used to think maybe by loving him so much I’d crushed any dreams he might have had. I finally asked him one too many times and we had a huge fight. I didn’t ask again. After that, I stopped.” She shrugged. “We stopped. A few months later he was gone.”

“You must still miss him.” Luke peered into her face, trying to figure out exactly what her expression said, but he may as well have been looking at a stone wall for all she gave away.

“I miss what could have been. I miss the dreams we had that never had a chance to come true.”