in town against him? It wouldn’t take much, especially if they remembered his antics as a teenager.
He’d stupidly assumed that his success and money would give him a pass on what had come before. He should have known better. Small towns held on to memories. His past could slither out around any corner, encircling his ankles like the kudzu that had invaded the forests bordering the highways of his home state, determined to take him down.
“What did you do to get banned?” Sam asked, his tone uncharacteristically animated.
“It doesn’t matter,” Dylan muttered, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder and giving him a gentle push toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Sam made a sound of protest and glanced over his shoulder toward the bag of pastries sitting on the counter. “What about the food?”
“We’ll get something at the gas station on the way to the high school.”
“That stuff sucks,” Sam argued. “You said it yourself.”
Dylan closed his eyes and counted to ten. He’d left off begging for anything on the day he’d grown taller and stronger than his father, who’d believed in teaching lessons with a belt or a closed fist. From that moment on Dylan had vowed he’d use his strength and his will to have his way, never showing weakness.
But for Sam, he’d eschew that vow and get down on his knees to plead for the pastries. Anything not to add one more disappointment to the boy’s heaping list.
Ready to grovel, he opened his eyes to see that Carrie had come to stand next to Mary Ellen in what he could only assume was some unwarranted show of solidarity.
No way in hell would he subjugate himself in front of her.
Her moss-green gaze held a mix of defiance and regret, and he knew her determination to run him out of town would take a toll on her inherently kind nature. Understood she’d willingly pay that price to be rid of him again.
“Dylan.”
His name on her lips, barely a whisper, had emotions running through him unchecked. He wouldn’t allow that. If she was determined to treat him as an enemy, he’d have no choice but to do the same.
Dylan Scott destroyed his enemies.
He half pulled, half dragged Sam out of the bakery, the doughy, sweet scent suddenly making bile rise to his throat.
“Why are you such a jerk?” Sam demanded, yanking free of his grasp once the door slammed shut behind them.
“Born that way,” Dylan answered, keeping his gaze on the sidewalk as he started toward where he’d parked his car.
“Seriously.” Sam caught up with him in a few steps and matched his fast pace. “What did you do?”
“Dylan?” a voice called from behind them.
Not a voice. Her voice.
Dylan gave a sharp shake of his head like he was shooing away a gnat and kept walking.
“I have your stuff.”
“My donuts.” Sam whirled on his heel before Dylan could stop him.
Damn it.
Dylan didn’t want to turn around but what choice did he have?
Fist clenched so hard he could feel his knuckles turning white, he faced Carrie, who’d jogged forward to meet them.
“Thanks, lady,” Sam mumbled as Carrie handed him the bag. At least the boy still displayed the manners his parents had instilled in him. One positive vestige of the past Dylan hadn’t managed to screw up.
“I’m Carrie Reed.” Curiosity darkened her gaze. “You’re a friend of Dylan’s?”
Sam gave a derisive laugh. “Hell, no.”
“Language,” Dylan warned.
Carrie inclined her head to study the boy, then her gaze darted to Dylan. Questions swirled in their depths and he wanted to answer all of them. He wanted to explain to someone the trials the past year had brought. For a few seconds or minutes or however long she’d let him, he longed to share the burden of the promise he’d made to Wiley.
He knew without a doubt she’d extend her support. She might hate him, but her heart was too kind to hear the story of an orphaned boy and not offer empathy.
“Are you going to ensure the whole town is against me?” he asked instead. It didn’t matter what he wanted. He couldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable. That path led to pain, and he was full up on that at the moment.
“Mary Ellen’s feelings about you have little to do with mine.” Her chin hitched, and once again he was reminded that Carrie had changed from the easy mark she’d been back in high school. “Did you think you’d be able to flash your fancy watch and expensive wardrobe in this town and