Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,44

Grady places his hand on my shoulder.

“Help me find the man who knocked her out.” I shrug. It seems hopeless, but how else will I prove her innocence? There’s little they can do, but I appreciate the offer.

Grayson gives a chin bump toward the front door. “Look who’s back. Did you know Felix was back in town?”

I glance over my shoulder to see my high school nemesis walk through the entrance like he owns the place. Rivals in high school, we became enemies after his family lodged a land dispute against La Rouge Vineyards.

With our father’s death, my brothers and I were left to fight that battle. We were young, green, and gullible. Felix’s dirty tactics nearly shut my family’s operation down.

“Felix fucked Erin at Cage’s welcome home party.” Neither of them have mentioned one word about Erin, but they must be curious.

“No shit,” Grady says. “Is that why she’s no longer around?”

“To say there’s bad blood between us is an understatement.”

“So, where’s that bastard been hiding the past eight years?” Grady shifts to stand beside me.

“He cleaned himself up.” Grayson bolsters my other side as Felix locks eyes with me.

My shoulders bunch and my fingers curl. I’m ready for a fight, but his oily gaze slides to the side and he takes a table as far from us as possible.

“Guess he’s not interested in a reunion.” My words are clipped. It’s hard not to launch myself at the man who tried to destroy everything my family built. Now that he’s back in town, I’ll be watching my back.

At least I’ll have the Malone’s watching it with me, as well as Brody and Cage.

12

Evelyn

It takes me longer than normal in the women’s restroom, but that’s because my mind won’t stop. Overanalyzing, overthinking, I’m pretty much overwhelmed.

There was a time when I was the belle of the ball, society’s up and coming socialite, primed to lead the next generation of New York’s social elite.

I played the game. Looked the part. Fulfilled the role I was born to lead.

I did it seamlessly, effortlessly, at least on the outside.

Inside?

It was exhausting and draining and suffocating and I don’t miss it.

Not one bit.

The constant pressure to be perfect, polite, and gracious wore me down, but I excel at imperfect perfection. I’m good with people.

This bar crowd?

I should be able to work them without a thought. Instead, they drain my energy and leave me a buzzing jangle of nerves.

All the smiling and pretending I’m having a good time? I don’t know why I thought going to a bar was a good idea.

I officially suck at life right now and I’d give anything to return to the solitude of my mountain trails where I don’t have to pretend or put on a show that everything is fine.

The bar is hopping, full of locals who stare at me, the newcomer, like I don’t belong, which I don’t, but I don’t understand the dirty looks. What happened to small-town-friendly?

My imagination is hard at work it seems. Nobody here knows me and they have no reason to dislike me, but a palpable hostility vibrates in the air.

I’m certifiably crazy because my mind is making up stupid shit.

In my defense, it’s been months since I’ve been around this many people. My solitary wilderness existence evidently has had some profound effect on me. Quiet is soul-soothing. Raucous bars are not. People who stare make me wary.

My hackles raise.

I’m in defensive mode.

This terrible unease manifests with an itch between my shoulder blades, one of those you can’t quite reach. It feels as if nobody wants me around. Maybe, it’s all in my head?

I’m a stranger in a strange town, out of my element and it shows. I used to be so good at this social shit. This was my zone, a socialite flitting about a crowd, working it to my advantage. All those social skills are stunted now, leaving me to hide out in the bathroom and overthink.

My comfort zone is out in the wilderness, hiking the trails, camping under the stars, and letting the world continue on without me.

People never used to make me nervous.

I sprinkle water on my makeup-less face and ignore how tired I look in the mirror. While I’d love to disappear, Asher is waiting on me. I can only hide in the bathroom for so long before it become too obvious. With a sigh, I force my feet to move.

Time to face the masses.

I toss my paper towel in the trash bin, and a crumpled newspaper catches