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I have no clue who this man is, but Davina is scared of him.
“Thanks,” he mutters before taking a seat next to me, his salt and pepper dusted hair falling in his face. Turning to me, a smile spreads across his face. “Laura, right?” He presses, but I blink at him a few times, wondering what kind of trouble I’ve just found myself in.
All I wanted was a drink.
“Yes,” I reply after an extended silence passes.
He nods. “New to the area?” He asks as Davina sets the beer bottle in front of him then disappears, sending me an apologetic look before leaving me alone with this man.
“No, why?” I take another sip of my drink. The sooner I’m through with it, the sooner I can get away from this creep.
“I’ve lived in San Jose most of my life and I’ve never seen you around here before. I’ve got an eye for these things. No one comes into my bar without me knowing about it. What brings you here?” He presses for more information again. Is this really his bar? No wonder Davina was so freaked out and ran off without even a word from him. He’s her boss.
This minimal interrogation along with everything else that I’ve been dealing with the past few days makes me crack. “Look, I’m not really in the mood for a conversation. I’ve had a shitty couple of days. All I want is to have a drink and forget everything, so please leave me alone.”
Suddenly, Davina rounds the bar again as the creeper from outside steps up to the bar beside me. His deep hazel eyes zone in on me and, for a moment, I’m enthralled by the hint of concern there. There’s something else too—interest, I think—and that’s enough to put me at ease. It may not be a heck of a lot, but someone in this seedy bar gives a shit, no matter how strange it is that a complete stranger gives a damn about me.
“Two, right?” Davina asks my not-so-creepy ally.
His eyes shift from mine and he nods. Davina hands over two open beer bottles and he nods. “Thanks, Mom.”
My eyes widen and my jaw nearly drops. Davina is his mother? She doesn’t look old enough to have a kid his age. Davina seems to be in her early forties or late thirties while the creeper looks about the same, maybe five years younger.
“Browning,” my creeper grumbles as he shoots daggers at the man next to me before stepping away.
“Gunner, is that anyway to address your father?” Browning throws over his shoulder after delivering that dose of whiplash.
Davina is his mother and Browning is his father? I am now officially invested in this family drama. Davina looks young, but Browning does not. He can’t be younger than sixty and even that’s being nice.
Also, what is with these weird names? Browning and Gunner? Davina at least sounds like a name. It’s actually a really pretty name, but Browning and Gunner sound more like military call signs than real names. Plus, who calls their father by their first name? That’s downright disrespectful and yet he called Davina “Mom”. Does he have some sort of issue with his father?
I shouldn’t be so interested and yet I am.
Gunner, as I’ve learned my creeper’s name is, thrusts a beer bottle in the air with his middle finger sticking up. Wow. Talk about hostility.
I should just drink the rest of my drink and leave, but I’m too invested.
After staring at Gunner for a minute, I turn my eyes back to Browning who is quietly drinking his beer, a false innocence across his face. He’s up to something, but I have no clue what it is. Who gives a shit, though, right?
“What did you do to him?” I ask.
The normal question of this circumstance would be “who hurt you” but, I’m certain that the aggression is saved just for Browning, which means he’s the reason behind it.
“Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” Browning responds quickly, amusement in his voice almost like an evil villain who has the heroine right in his clutches.
Though I know the danger, I walk right into the trap. “My ex-boyfriend took me on a trip to Paris just to dump me because I’m not serious enough. I’d enjoy the distraction.”
Browning chokes on his beer and the liquid sputters from his lips like the backfire of a car engine. “Well, fuck. Talk about a dick move,” he rasps before clearing his throat. “Are you sure you want to hearthisstory though?”
“Positive. Make me forget my woes, Browning,” I say before taking another sip of my drink.
A big, unnatural smile covers his face as he raises his beer bottle. “That actually sounds like a wonderful plan, Laura. Here’s to forgetting your worries.”
CHAPTER3
LAURA
The incessant throbbing in my head wakes me along with the blinding light. My eyes feel like they’ll explode even without opening them.
