"Where were you?" I snarled.
"Watching. I wanted to see how the boys handled themselves." He took a sip and nodded toward the parking lot. "They'll be back. Probably with more guys next time."
"Then we'd better be ready."
"We will be." He looked at me and there was something deceptive behind his eyes. It felt wrong, like he hoped those guys actually did start something. "You good, Crank?"
"I'm fine."
"Good. We need you sharp. This thing's about to get a lot worse before it gets better."
He walked back inside and I stood there for another minute, feeling the adrenaline drain out of my chest and the ache settle into my knuckles. The feud had been simmering for four years, flaring up in bursts and then cooling down just enough to make everyone think it was over. But it was never over. It was just waiting.
I went back to the bar and finished what was left of my drink, but the night was ruined. Crystal was back behind the bar and she gave me a look that said the offer still stood, but whatever window had been open was closed now. The fight had sobered me up enough to remember why I didn't do this, and one more minute on that stool would've put me right back in dangerous territory.
I closed out my tab and walked outside. The night air was cool and the street was quiet, and across the road the lights of Ma's Griddle were still on. A cup of coffee and thirty minutes of silence would clear my head enough to ride home safely, so I crossed the street and pulled the door, but it didn't give. The sign in the window was flipped to closed.
I knocked once and saw movement through the glass. The door opened and town busybody Amber stood there with her purse on her shoulder and the keys to the diner in her hand.
"We're closed, Crank."
"I can see that. Where's Anne?" I looked over her shoulder into the darkened diner that should've been open a few more hours at least but there was no one around.
Amber's face dropped, and I'd swear you'd have thought her puppy died. "You haven't heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Peter had a stroke. Anne found him in the shop this afternoon when she went home for dinner. He'd been on the floor for hours by the time she got there." She shook her head. "They rushed him to the hospital, but from what Anne told me on the phone, the doctors aren't giving much hope. She's been there all evening."
I took a step back and felt the energy in my body drain out my feet. "How bad?" I asked, as my thoughts slowly wrapped around the reality that if Peter was sick, it meant calling his children, which meant Sara—who hadn't been home, not even for Christmas, in four years—would be coming home.
"Bad, Crank. Real bad. Anne said the doctors told her to call the kids home." Amber pulled the door shut behind her and locked it. "I guess they're driving in right now. She wants the whole family there."
I stood on the sidewalk and watched Amber walk to her car and drive away. Sara was coming home. After four years of silence and distance and empty highways between us, she was coming back to Grove Hill, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. I couldn't leave town. I had the club and a feud that was about to boil over and brothers who needed me. I was stuck, and she was on her way, and everything I'd spent four years trying to bury was about to claw its way back to the surface.
11
SARA
Mom had been sitting in the same spot for two days, pulled up close to Dad's bed with her hand resting on his arm and her eyes fixed on the monitors that beeped. We all wanted to be reassured, but I knew deep down she wasn't. The doctors hadn't changed their tone since we arrived. He was stable but critical, with life support doing the work his body couldn't, and they weren't making any promises or giving any timeline.
"Mom, are you sure you don't need anything? I can bring you a change of clothes or something from the cafeteria before I head out." I felt awful leaving her, but life outside this room went on. With Dad's shop out of commission, the only way to keep them afloat financially was to make sure the diner stayed open. Amber had offered, but I knew Mom didn’t trust her that much.
She shook her head without looking away from Dad's face. "I'm fine, sweetheart. I've got my coffee and the nurses have been bringing me sandwiches. You don't need to worry about me."
"I'm always going to worry about you, Mom," I said, and my heart squeezed a little. She would always be my mother, but attimes I felt like I had to take care of her now. I wondered if that was just the way it went as parents aged and their children started doing more.
She reached over and squeezed my hand. "Go open the diner. Your father would have a fit if he knew both businesses were sitting dark while the family was here."
"I know he would."
"The keys are in my purse. The produce delivery should've come yesterday so check the walk-in when you get there. And the morning crew knows the routine, so just get things unlocked and turned on and they'll handle the rest."
"I've got it, Mom." I really didn't want to leave her, but I had no choice.
She finally looked at me, and her eyes were red-rimmed and exhausted. "Thank you for coming home, Sara. I know it wasn't easy."
I leaned down and kissed her forehead and held it there for a second longer than I needed to. "I'll check in tonight. Call me if anything changes."
