Smug Bastard - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,66

my door, or running into him and Becca…

Hell no.

At the RV park, I met some Willie Nelson lookalike and got stoned with his dog. I smoked with him until I passed out, not letting myself think or feel. Waking up, I headed straight over to get Goat, wanting just to be home now. Get far away from Smith.

I was the idiot anyway. I knew better. What did I expect from a guy nicknamed Smug Bastard? Did I think I’d be different?

I knew he was off limits, and it would end badly, but I still jumped in. So really, I was to blame. Just another guy who pretended to care and then shredded my heart. Jason, Ethan, Smith. I was the common denominator. The stupid fool.

Now I licked my lips and stared at Angie. “Becca.”

Angie’s mouth parted, her lids blinking. “Wife?”

“Stunning, tall, flawless. Seeing them together… they made sense.”

“No.” Angie’s head waggled, her forehead lining. “I don’t understand. I didn’t see her.”

“What do you mean?”

“In my dream, I saw Smith surrounded by darkness and pain. I kept calling to him, reaching for him, thinking he needed me, was coming back to me. He smiled, but he wouldn’t move, kept looking behind him. Finally, I saw a figure. It created such happiness in him, joy, and serenity so pure it almost hurt. It pushed away all the darkness… It wasn’t until I meet you in person, felt your auras together, I understood.”

“Understood what?”

“It was you.” Her chest fluttered like it hurt. “In my vision.”

“Me?”

“You were the one who made him happy. But I also knew if he ignored it, turned away from it, the darkness would crush him.”

“I think this is one time your dream was wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” she huffed, flipping her curly hair back. “But this other woman wasn’t in my vision… unless she was part of his darkness.”

“I don’t think so. She seems to love him very much.” I didn’t want to hear any more, my logical brain trying to regain order again. Voodoo, fantasies, hopes, magic, visions, spirits—I was done with it, ready to go back to things that made sense.

“Uh-oh.”

“What?” I picked up Goat’s bag, ready to get on the road and away from this city.

“I know you are hurting. Believe me, I get it. You’d think after eight-plus years, I’d be over Smith, but that man leaves a mark.”

I snorted dryly, thinking of the scrapes still covering my back and the bruises all over my body from his mouth and grip. I demanded every delicious one and gave right back.

“Don’t crawl back into your box because you’re hurt. If anything, use this against him. I can see it. You are powerful, passionate, and bold. Like a storm. Don’t ever apologize for your strength, and don’t let him hinder it. You are not meant to live in the shadows.”

A gasp wedged in my throat at her words.

Her eyes stared at me with a knowing look, as if she could see everything inside my heart and head, picking at my fears and truths.

“Your story is not over. He’ll be back, but it will be you who gets to decide the ending this time.” Her mouth pressed into a smile, before she leaned over to give Goat a pet. “I will miss you, sweet boy. Don’t be a stranger.” Goat licked her hand.

Shocking even myself, I leaned over and hugged Angie. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t be a stranger yourself.” She hugged me back.

Nodding, I got Goat into the car and walked around to the driver’s side, giving her a last wave, feeling a sadness I didn’t expect, like I was saying goodbye to an old friend. If it was the magic of this city or a bond over Smith, Angie felt like a permanent thread that somehow got woven into my life.

Pulling out, I looked over at Goat, who sniffed the seat and peered around as if he was searching for Smith, feeling the loss of the man who had only been part of our journey for a short time. His presence hung heavy in the car, leaving an empty void.

“Just you and me, little man.” I rubbed his head. Goat whimpered and placed his head on my leg, his sad eyes looking up at me.

“Yeah…” I sighed. I felt it too.

The sun was high and bright in the sky as I pulled onto the highway heading north, but it felt like a heavy rain cloud permeated the van.

Smith had left a wound, but Angie was right, I couldn’t let