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“Jake, we close in an hour.” Salvatore wiped down the end of the bar and glanced his way. “You gonna finish that drink or stare at it for the next sixty minutes?”
The door flew open behind him and unleashed a cold blast of wind that ruffled his hair, but he paid it no mind. Not even when Salvatore swore—something he rarely did—was Jake even remotely interested in who had just walked through the doors.
“An hour, boys,” Salvatore said, shaking his head. “That’s it. You’ve got one hour to convince him to leave, or you can all deal with my wife.”
“Okay, Sal.”
The deep, raspy voice had Jake turning real quick, though, and he attempted a smile, though he was pretty sure he’d failed by the look in his buddy’s eyes. “I didn’t expect to see your sorry ass until New Year’s Eve.”
Cain Black strode over and clapped him on the shoulder before sliding into the seat beside him, while Mac grinned and grabbed the stool on his right.
“Yeah, well, plans change, my friend.”
No doubt Mac had had a part in that. Jesus. He wasn’t in the mood for an intervention.
Jake glanced at Mac, who was smiling at the bartender, a brunette with big eyes and an even bigger grin and a chest that was well in proportion to both. “I’d watch your step, Mac. That’s Sal’s daughter, and she’s barely legal.”
“You’re pulling my leg,” Mac said. “There is no way in hell that’s the little girl who used to—”
“Hey Mackenzie, Merry Christmas.”
“—sell Girl Scout cookies to my mom.” Mac groaned. “Shit, I feel old.”
“Oh my God! Cain, will you let me take your picture?” Angie’s eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of her head when she spied the rocker. “Like one with me, please?”
Cain took off his hat and shook out hair that was at least an inch longer than when Jake had last seen him. “Sure, darlin’. How about we get that done, and then you can bring Mac and me some JD on the rocks so that we can catch up with our friend Jake, here.”
Angie squealed and practically jumped over the bar, her cell phone out and the picture snapped in under thirty seconds. Sal grumbled from down the way but slid a bottle of Jack toward them. “Merry Christmas, boys, but remember…one hour.” He frowned. “And no funny stuff.” His eyes lingered on Jake for half a second longer, and then he disappeared into the kitchen.
Cain slid back into his seat and poured out two generous glasses for Mac and himself before turning to Jake. “You look like shit, my friend.”
Jake nodded. “Thanks for that, Hollywood.”
Cain leaned onto the bar. “I’m not joking. You really look like shit.”
Jake felt a spike of anger flush through him, but it left as quick as it came. He was just done. There was no way he was coming back from last night.
“So, I take it Mac called you?”
Cain nodded. “Yeah, he did.”
Jake shook his head and glared at Mackenzie. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’m worried about you, dumbass.” Mac held his drink up as if for a toast and then tipped it back, not stopping until the glass was dry.
Jake wished he could drink his pain away, but unlike Mackenzie, alcohol wasn’t always his answer. Jake glanced up and saw his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He saw Cain on his left, while Mac stared back at him from his right. His friends. His brothers.
Except that one was missing. One was never coming back.
That heaviness inside him pressed against his chest something fierce. It hung on, leeching on to his soul and filling his heart with so much pain that he hung his head and gasped as he slid from his stool and took a few steps back.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered.
“Yeah, well, we don’t care.” Cain turned around and stretched out his long, jean-clad legs. “You gotta stop this, Jake. It happened over a year ago. You can’t stay in that place anymore. You need to move on.”
Jake rolled his head and looked at his two oldest friends. He loved these guys. He’d do anything for them, and he knew the feeling was mutual. But they didn’t understand how fucked-up everything was.
“You have no idea what the hell’s going on.”
