“I said, what the fuck do you want, Griffin?” She crossed her arms, foot tapping on the hardwood floor.
Shit, maybe Mac was pissed about how the game had gone down earlier. He’d thought she’d had a good time despite losing, but maybe she wasn’t as easygoing as he’d assumed.
“Hey, I’m sorry about the game. You played great, and—”
“You think this is about the goddamn game? Shit, you’re an asshole and an idiot.”
“Mac, what the hell’s—” But his words caught in his throat because over Mac’s shoulder, he caught sight of Willow standing on the staircase, her face passive and emotionless as she stared at him. No smile. No twinkle in her eye. Nothing. His stomach twisted, the urge to go to her too strong to resist. “Willowtree? What—”
“I know you said you wanted to chat with him, Will, but I could knee him in the balls for you instead,” Mac called over her shoulder, blocking the doorway so Finn couldn’t get through. “Just say the word. It’d be my absolute pleasure.”
He stared at Willow, her questioning eyes connecting with his. She stood silent for an eternity. Finally, she said, “Maybe after we have that chat.”
Thank Christ. A chat would do Finn some good. He could find out what the hell had happened to Willow between when he’d last seen her in the square, looking beautiful as hell and smiling at him like he hung the damn moon, to now when she looked ready to murder him.
Mac shoved her finger into his chest, pressing deep as she leaned close. “She might be willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I’m not finding myself quite so gracious given your history. Just remember I’m a fifth-degree black belt. And I’m pretty sure no one would fault me for shooting you in the ass with a BB gun when it’s after midnight, so you better be damn careful with your words. Never can be too sure who’s breaking and entering, now can you?” She spun around and headed for the steps, squeezing Willow’s arm as she passed. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
After aiming one more glare in Finn’s direction, Mac shot up the stairs, and then it was just him and Willow.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, before striding over to her. Needing to touch her, to feel her, reassure himself she was all right. “Tell me what’s goin’ on. Mac said you wanted to chat? And why is she ready to shoot me with a damn BB gun? Is it about the game? I’m sorry ’bout that. I should’ve talked it over with y’all first, but I—”
“You think this is about baseball, Finn?” She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed as she stared at him.
“I have no idea what this is about, but I’m hopin’ like hell you’ll tell me and tell me quick so I can fix it.” He reached out, intent on smoothing his hands over her shoulders, but she jerked back, out of his reach.
She stepped around him, farther away. Out of touching range. “Is it true?” Her voice was quiet. Calm. Like the eye of the storm.
“Is what true?”
She stared at him for long moments, her eyes seemingly doing their best to read him. “You know, every time we’ve been together I’ve wanted to ask why you left the way you did. Why you never called or wrote. Why you never, ever came back, but something always stopped me. Fear, I guess.” She glanced down and shook her head, a new fire in her eyes when she met his gaze again. “But I’m done living in fear. And I want to know. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to assume the story my daddy fed me was the truth.”
Finn’s stomach bottomed out, his face draining. Dammit, he wasn’t ready for this conversation. He might’ve had ten years to prepare himself, but he wasn’t even close. Not when the outcome could so easily go out of his favor. Not when what he gambled was something as precious as Willow.
He stared at her, trying to find the words to tell her why he’d done the things he had, how it’d ripped his heart out to go, and how every mile away from her had felt like the worst kind of torture.
Her eyes crumbled in his gaze, her stoic expression melting into devastation. “It’s true, isn’t it? What he said.”
“Willowtree, I—”
“Do not call me that. You don’t get that privilege. Not when all it took to get you to leave me behind without a word was a little cash.”
Finn’s body turned to ice as a boulder settled in his stomach. He hadn’t been fast enough. He should’ve found Dick and gotten it taken care of earlier in the day. No, what he should’ve done was figure out a way to tell her well before today, to hell with her relationship with her daddy. Because now…now everything he’d ever wanted was getting snatched away in front of his eyes. He could see it in her face when she looked at him. The disappointment. The anger. The hurt.
It killed him to know he caused it.
“Can’t believe I let you play me for a fool. Again,” she whispered, shaking her head as a tear slipped free and rolled down her cheek. She swallowed, licked her lips. Took a deep, ragged breath. “I’ve spent the whole night hoping with everything in me what my daddy said wasn’t true. It couldn’t possibly be. You’d tell me it was a lie, that it never happened. That my daddy made it all up just to turn me against you.” She huffed and shook her head. “I thought that naïve part of me was dead and gone, buried alive after you left. The part that was stupid enough to believe everything you said. To believe we had somethin’ special. To believe in an us.”
“We do have somethin’ special. You’re the most important person in the world to me.” He reached for her again, desperate to feel her under his fingers. Desperate to wipe away her tears and comfort her. Even though he didn’t deserve such a privilege. “Willow—”
“Don’t touch me.” She slapped his hands away, her face growing redder by the second. “I can’t believe I let this happen again. I knew it would. I knew, somehow, you’d make me out to be the idiot Haven girl just like I was back then.”
It didn’t make sense. Didn’t add up. Her daddy never would’ve told her the circumstances surrounding Finn’s departure. Not when the mayor had blackmailed Finn, forcing his hand. Even without a sick momma, he hadn’t had a choice. It was get the hell out with fifty grand or stay and be indicted for a crime he never committed—underage alcohol consumption and distributing to minors in a dry county. Apparently, that was one of the benefits of having the sheriff for a best friend.
Unless… Unless Dick didn’t tell her the whole story. Only the part that made Finn look like a money-hungry coward. Not the part where Dick was close to the devil himself.
He stopped himself from reaching for her again, just barely. But he stepped closer. Displayed as much sincerity in his voice as he could. “Please, sweetness, will you let me explain?”
She breathed out a laugh. “I waited ten years for an explanation. Ten years, not to mention all these weeks we’ve spent together. And now you want to give it?” She shook her head and strode to the front door, not an ounce of hesitation in her movements when she opened it for him as a clear sign to get the hell out. “After all the chances I gave you, I find I’m not much interested in listenin’ anymore. Goodbye, Finn.”
FINN WOKE to an incessant pounding in his head. Though, that was no surprise. For the past—shit, how long had it been?—however many days, he’d woken up the same way. Except as he opened his eyes, becoming more aware of his surroundings, he realized the pounding wasn’t a headache, but rather came in the form of his brother.
“’Bout damn time you woke up.” Drew stopped thumping Finn’s forehead and yanked the pillow out from under his head.
He groaned, clutching his aching skull. “The hell, man?”
Since the pillows were gone, Drew moved on to Finn’s feet, hauling them off the couch and letting them drop to the ground.
“Seriously, I’m not in the mood for this, Drew.” Finn’s head was killing him, and his mouth felt like he’d swallowed an entire bag of cotton balls. Soaked in roadkill. And then left to marinate for a week in the Mississippi sun.
“No?” Drew said. “Let me tell you what I’m not in the mood for. I’m not i
n the mood for my shit-for-brains brother to start demanding things when he’s done fuck all the past three days while moping like a teenager who just got his phone taken away.” Drew kicked Finn’s foot. “Time to get your ass up. Get your shit together and join the land of the living. I’ve covered for your sorry ass, but my patience is gone.”
Finn was way too hungover for this conversation. Or, actually, maybe he was still a little drunk. He groaned and sat up, propping his elbows on his knees and cradling his pounding head in his hands. “Look, I’m sorry about the bar—”
“You think this is about the bar?” Drew snorted out a laugh. “We’ve got it handled. This is about me watching you for the past ten years, you finally gettin’ what you want, only to let one little fight end everything.”
Finn breathed out a humorless laugh, the image of Willow’s face from that night blinking in his mind. It was all he’d been able to see every time he closed his eyes. The pain and betrayal so vivid on her features. While nothing he did erased it, the alcohol numbed it a little.
Hence why his mouth tasted like ass and gnomes were using ice picks to pound away at his skull.
“It was more than ‘one little fight,’” he grumbled.
“I don’t care if it was fucking World War III. Absolutely nothin’ is gonna come from you locking your mopey ass away in the apartment, drinkin’ your weight in bourbon.”
Finn glared up at his brother. “No? What the hell else am I supposed to do? The woman I love just told me to get out of her life. Permanently. I don’t think some flowers and a dozen cupcakes is gonna cut it this time.”
“You’re an idiot.”
Finn rubbed his eyes, trying to will away the headache raging behind them. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he muttered.
“When you two eventually get married, I hope you know I’m using this story in your toast.”
Marriage? Willow wouldn’t speak to him—he’d tried that, calling her a dozen times before giving up. Then he’d resorted to texting her—none of which she’d answered. She also probably couldn’t even look at him, though he hadn’t tested that theory since, instead, he’d chosen to stay home and get drunk off his ass. And his jackass brother was talking about marriage? Not fucking likely. Not after Finn had fucked everything up. “Now who’s the idiot?”
“Still you.” Drew took a seat on the battered coffee table directly in front of Finn. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, dumbass. First, you’re gonna take a damn shower because you smell like a homeless man who just went on a bender. Then you’re gonna do what you’d already planned to—bring that check back to our illustrious mayor.”
“It won’t matter.” Finn shook his head, pressing his palm hard against his forehead. “None of it’ll matter now.”
“Maybe not. But it might.” Drew paused, long enough that Finn finally looked up at him. “Dick doesn’t play by the rules, so maybe you shouldn’t either.” He raised a brow.
Finn snorted. “Yeah, I definitely see the sheriff helpin’ me out with this little situation I’m in.”
“Who said you needed the sheriff? Way I see it, all you need is a convincing argument on why he should come clean to Willow about all he did back then. You said it yourself—there’s no way he’d have told her the whole story…just enough to pit her against you. So make him.”
Finn ran a hand through his hair, his mind whirring with possibilities as he finally saw a tiny pinprick of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Drew was right. This might not do anything. But maybe, just maybe, it could. And didn’t he owe it to himself and Willow to at least try? To try absolutely everything in his power before giving up?
He squinted at his brother, the harsh light coming in from the front window killing his eyes. “Where was this brilliant advice three days ago? I’ve wasted a lot of time getting…well, wasted. Maybe too much time.”
“First, you kind of deserved it. A little payback for walking away from her in the first place. Second, you’re sucking down all our open stock for the bar, and Nola said I better get your ass under control before she comes over and does it her damn self.” Drew pushed to stand and looked down at him, shaking his head. “She’s scary-feisty, man.”
Finn wasn’t arguing that. And he was ashamed it’d taken her getting fed up with him before he came to his senses. Jesus, some pile he was. Not only had he been an absolute worthless excuse for a human being, not helping with the finishing touches at the bar, but he’d been drinking through their stock too. Drew was right. It was time to get shit done.
After a shower to help him feel half human again, he had some unfinished business with Mayor Haven to attend to.
IT WAS dusk by the time Dick showed up where Finn had instructed. Getting him there had been a miracle in and of itself. But Finn’d had to be strategic about it. He certainly couldn’t show up at the mayor’s office—not with Willow right down the hall, liable to pop in at any moment. Same went for Dick’s home.
Quiet and secluded it was, like some kind of back-alley drug deal. Come to think of it, this location wasn’t all that different from where they’d met all those years ago.
“All right, boy,” Dick said as he heaved himself out of his car. “Best be tellin’ me what this nonsense is about before I make some calls.”
Finn slid his hand into his pocket, not moving from where he leaned against the side of his truck, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like his whole future didn’t ride on the outcome of this meeting. “Ah, yes. Calls to the sheriff, isn’t that right? Must be nice to have such a close, personal friend in law enforcement. Allows you to do all kinds of shady shit.”
Dick stepped closer, his eyes narrowed. “You gonna spit it out already?”
Plucking the check from inside his pocket, Finn pulled it out and pinched it between two fingers, holding it in Dick’s direction. “Gotcha a little somethin’.”
“What’s this?” Dick snatched the check from Finn’s fingers and unfolded it. His brows shot up, eyes going wide. “This some kind of joke?”
“’Fraid not, Dick. This is payback.” Finn smiled. “Quite literally in this sense.”
Dick barked out a laugh. “If you think this’ll make everything better with Will, you’re even dumber than I gave you credit for.”
“This? No. This isn’t gonna do anything with Willow. We both know that. This just settles the score between you and me. I’d been plannin’ on giving this back to you for some time. Just hadn’t gotten around to it. Wanted to wash my hands of your sins.”
“My sins? I didn’t do nothin’, boy, except—”
“Except blackmail a nineteen-year-old kid with nothin’ but a run-down trailer to his name and a momma who was facing a death sentence.” Finn nodded. “Nothin’ there but good old-fashioned neighborly advice, isn’t that right?”
“Now, you listen here—”
“Nope.” Finn pushed off from the truck and took a step in Dick’s direction. “I’m done listenin’ to you. Time for you to do some of it.” He reached out and plucked the check from Dick’s fingers, folded it up, then stuffed it in the mayor’s shirt pocket. Patted it twice. Possibly slightly harder than necessary. “That might’ve been years ago, but we’ve got a long memory in Havenbrook, don’t we? You proved that on the baseball diamond. Sure would be a shame for all your constituents to learn what you did back then. Especially now that the boy you did it to turned into a man who’s bringin’ value back to your precious town. Bringin’ jobs and revenue to the people who need it most.”
Dick narrowed his eyes so much they were just beady little slits, glaring in Finn’s direction. “What’re you tryin’ to say?”
“I’m not tryin’ to say anything. I’m merely suggesting you might wanna be honest with your daughter about the circumstances surrounding my departure. Or those circumstances might become common knowledge for the lovely folks of Havenbrook.”
“How dare you! That’s blackmail!”
Finn finally smiled for the first time
in three days. “I know. Isn’t it great?” He clapped his hand on the mayor’s shoulder and directed him toward his car.
“You’ve got until next week.” He opened the door for Dick, pressing hard on his shoulder to guide him inside. With his hands braced on the window frame and hood of the car, Finn leaned into the space of the opened door. “Now, Dick, I don’t want to ruin your career, but I will. I warned you it wouldn’t be so easy to get rid of me this time. Tellin’ Willow before I had a chance to didn’t make me run away.” He stepped back and shut the door. Through the open window, he said, “It’s only gonna make me fight harder.”
With two hard taps to the roof of Dick’s car, Finn turned and strode away, feeling lighter than he had in ten long years, even despite the heaviness of his heart weighing him down.
Willow might’ve been too old to be curled up on the couch with her head in her momma’s lap as they watched a sappy romance on the Hallmark channel, but she didn’t care. For the first few days after she’d said goodbye to Finn, she’d tried to keep her stoic mask in place. Which had been easier said than done, especially after the idiotic show she’d put on at the softball game. If she hadn’t gone up to Finn and kissed the hell out of him for the entire town to see, no one would’ve had anything at all to talk about.
But because she had, the whispers had followed her for days, though nothing was said to her face—it never was. It was all pointed stares and not-so-subtle fingers directed her way when they thought she wasn’t looking.
Well, she’d had about enough of it. And after putting up with it for that long, who could blame her for partaking in some much-needed Momma time? Especially when that Momma time came with chicken and dumplings and warm, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, her favorite comfort foods.
“How long before Mac gets home, sweetheart?” Momma asked, her fingers trailing through Willow’s hair as they both watched the hero of the movie run through a bus depot, frantically searching for the heroine, inevitably to tell her how sorry he was for royally screwing up.
Second Chance Charmer (Havenbrook Book 1) Page 24