The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor(57)

“So there is something.” Her fingers squeezed; a silent plea for him to continue. “Luke, I’ve spent a lot of years blaming you and only you. If I’m wrong about—”

“That’s the thing, Holly.” Luke couldn’t help but stare into her eyes, the swirling depths catching hold of him and threatening to drag him down. “You’re not wrong. I got into that car after I’d been drinking. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did it anyway. And your father ended up paying the price. Nothing else matters.”

He tried to tug his arm free, but she hung on and moved in front of him, that defiant, determined look on her face.

“Where were you going?”

“I’m following your son.”

“Not funny.” Holly shook her head. “The more you evade my questions, the more I’m certain there’s something you and my father are keeping from me. Where were you driving to that night?”

“Why do you care?” He hated the desperation he heard in his own voice—whiny, complaining. It was bad enough he couldn’t leave the past behind him. He didn’t want her to have to deal with the same. “Holly, what possible difference does all this make now?”

She snatched her hand off his arm as if she’d been burned. “Because the man I’ve come to know these past couple of weeks isn’t anything like I imagined you’d become. It makes me wonder if I misjudged you from the start,” she said.

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, see, the more you insist, the less I believe you.” She planted her hands on her hips. “We’re having this out right now, so I’m asking you for the last time, what really happened?”

Luke caught sight of Jake’s car pulling up in front of the community center. Any hope he might have had that Simon and Charlie would prove a distraction vanished as they raced to greet Jake and help him unload what looked like a full load of paint supplies. Luke sighed. Could fighting with Holly be any more exhausting? But while telling her the actual circumstances of the night wouldn’t change anything for him, maybe it would finally give her some peace of mind. “Prom night’s always been a busy night for your dad and the deputies.”

“Yeah. I remember he was ready to go out on patrol while I was getting dressed.” Holly inclined her head, the spark of frustration he’d seen in her eyes fading as she fell into the conversation.

“You probably noticed I didn’t go. I had the house to myself, was drinking myself pretty stupid. Hoping to pass out before my old man got home.” There it was. Luke ground his teeth as the sympathy slipped over Holly’s pretty features. He took a deep breath, scrubbed a hand down his face. “I was almost there when the phone rang. It was your dad. He’d gotten a call from the bartender at the Dirty Rose complaining about my father, but he was on his way to the high school to make sure no one had been drinking before they got into their cars.”

“He still does that.” Holly’s stance shifted. She folded her arms over her chest as she watched his face for any change of expression. “Or he did.”

“Your dad asked me to go pick my father up. He didn’t want him in the drunk tank that night because there weren’t enough deputies on shift to watch out for him. He told me to drive straight there to get him so he could sleep it off at home.”

Comprehension shone in her eyes. “Dad didn’t know you’d been drinking.”

“I didn’t have the chance to tell him.” Why did he feel compelled to convince her he’d never meant any harm? He shouldn’t care what Holly thought of him, but he did. Other than Jake, he couldn’t think of anyone else on this planet he wanted to think well of him. “Looking back, I didn’t realize how impaired I was. I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve wondered if only I had realized, or if I hadn’t picked up the phone, how so many things would have been different.”

Holly ducked her chin, but not before he saw her flinch. Well, she’d wanted to know. No turning back now.

“There was a part of me that was proud your father thought he could rely on me to handle the situation. By then Dad and I occupied the same space, but we didn’t interact. Not after I gave him a dose of what he’d dished out to me all those years. So I got into my car and headed into town.”

Tears filled Holly’s brown eyes. “And crashed into my father’s patrol car on the way.”

His shoulders felt heavy, as if he was caving in on himself. “I did what I could to help him, Holly. I swear I did.”

She nodded, but didn’t move. Her eyes had gone distant, perhaps peering into the past he was describing.