“Nah, man, shit. I’m not leaving,” he says. “Sit down.”
“Bryan, it’s not worth it,” the guy says. He shoots me a look of apology, which makes me wonder why a halfway decent person is hanging out with such scum.
“From what I remember, it was well worth it,” Bryan says, licking his lips when he looks at me.
Rage erupts inside me like a bomb that’s been waiting years to explode. There’s a corkscrew lying on a towel next to me, and I want to jab it in his eye and watch him bleed. This man has caused me far too much pain for me to stand here and let him even look at me the way he is right now.
I resist the urge to grab the corkscrew and step closer to the bar, leaning forward so I know he can hear me loud and clear.
“If you value your life, you will turn around and walk out that door,” I say. “If I ever see you in this bar again, I’ll get a restraining order on you, and with your record, I imagine that would be a very bad thing for you right now.”
He glares at me and leans forward, so close I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
I never wanted to be this close to him again in my life, but there’s no way I’m backing down. I want him to know I’m not the same weak girl he messed around with all those years ago.
“Fine, I’ll go, but you better watch your back,” he says. “All you would have had to do was treat me with a little respect after all this time, but since you refuse to let bygones be bygones, you just made my shit-list.”
“You’ve got five seconds,” I say, glancing pointedly at my watch.
“Come on, Bryan, let’s bolt,” his friend says, pulling on his arm. “We don’t need to be dealing with the cops tonight, man.”
Bryan makes a point to glare at me one more time before he finally stands and wobbles toward the door.
“And I better not see you guys driving out of my parking lot,” I say. “Get a cab or walk it off, or I will be calling the cops.”
Bryan curses and pushes the door open with such force it hits the brick wall outside and rebounds right in his face. His head knocks all the way back and blood pours from his nose.
“Dammit,” he says, walking out.
Serves him right. I don’t even offer him so much as a napkin.
“Want me to make sure they don’t drive off?” Colton asks.
I jump and hold a hand to my heart. “I didn’t realize you were standing there,” I say.
“I really wish you would have let me put those guys in their place,” he says.
He slides over the top of the bar and takes a quick look outside. When he comes back, he nods. “They were walking down the street,” he says.
I relax a little, but my hands are sweating and my heart's still racing.
“When are you going to explain to me who that guy is to you?” he asks.
“He used to work here,” I say. “A long time ago.”
Colton takes my hand. “Is he the one who hurt you?” he asks.
I nod. “And I don’t like to talk about it,” I say. “Hopefully that’s the last time we’ll ever see him in here.”
“I hope so, too,” he says. “But maybe we need to make sure you aren’t working here any nights by yourself for a while.”
“I can take care of myself,” I say, busying myself with straightening things behind the bar. I’m rattled, but I don’t need a babysitter. I don’t want Bryan to think he can shake me up the way he used to.
“I don’t doubt that, but that guy’s got at least a hundred pounds on you,” Colton says. “I don’t like those odds, and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who takes no for an answer.”
You have no idea.
I clear my throat, avoiding his eyes. I feel exposed and weak, and I want to just put it behind me. I’ve got enough on my plate right now without worrying about Bryan-freaking-Thompson.
“If he shows up again, I’ll just call the cops,” I say. “I can handle it.”
“You know the cops in this town,” Colton says, refusing to drop it. He puts his hand on my wrist. “It could take them half an hour to get over here. Maybe you should go ahead and put in a call to