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“What’s up?”
Silence filled the cab of my truck in an uncomfortable pressure though my ears still rang with my roar from earlier.
“You okay?”
Shit. I puffed my cheeks out. “I broke your rule.”
“Which one?”
“The one about staying out of the business of others.” I stared at the road before me that didn’t blur.
Proud of myself. Fucker.
Self-loathing descended in a heavy wave. I strangled my steering wheel and resisted the urge to punch the dash while I still had Trav on the line.
“Yeah, that’s a hard one to learn. Sometimes you just gotta, though,” he mused.
I blinked. “You what?”
He laughed. “There’re times to keep your interests to yourself, and there’s times to fight, Kyle. Which one of these is this one?”
“You always sound like an old man? Fuck, you’ve only got two years on me.”
“Yeah, and you’ve got the gray hairs coming through sooner,” he bitched back at me.
I tugged a few silver strands I knew were above my ears. “Yeah, Dad went gray early too.”
“He keep his shit to himself too?”
I thought about it. “Mostly.”
“He ever step in when he had to?” Trav’s knowing voice shit me.
I checked the time and pressed the pedal to the floor. “I’ll be in white cap in an hour and a bit.”
“Keep it steady.” Trav’s effort at not calling me on my bullshit irked me worse.
“Will do. Let you know when I’ve got him home.” I ended the call, unsure if I’d learned anything useful from him, or not.
CHAPTER NINE
The white painted walls of Forty-Seven North glowed in the afternoon sun as I pulled up. While Montana still looked like summer outside, all bright and cheery, the air’s cold edge bit into my skin. I shucked my jacket off, needing the pain. Anything to relocate the mess situated inside my chest.
“Andi,” I hollered, pushing through the bar room’s swinging doors.
She set the place up like a saloon when the boot scooting bar-cum-night club opened at the top of the hill, drawing tourists. The ploy worked; she sold better food and cheaper beer, and the locals had a place to have a quiet drink without all the noise and razzle-dazzle.
And the pick up atmosphere.
“Back here.” The publican’s voice echoed from behind the stairs in her office.
I jogged around the back of the bar and found Jack propped against the wall, Andi crouched over him. “Hey, old man. I think I found your liver out on the floor.”
He reeked of piss and puke, his eyes bloodshot as he peered up at me and frowned. God knew who he saw, but I didn’t think it was me.
“That you, Sommers?” He squinted, and reached out with a shaking hand.
I glanced at Andi. She shook her head, her short blonde hair bobbing beneath her ears.
