Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

“Fuck I hate it when you make sense.”

“Language!”

I snorted at that, shaking my head as I scooped the key off the bar. I twirled it between my fingers a couple of times as I chewed on my lip. I had contemplated leaving it with the doorman when I’d left this morning, but it was Langley’s apartment after all, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a key to the place. As long as it wasn’t a key with strings.

Another sigh flew past my lips.

“I don’t do this,” I said again, my words a whisper.

“Darlin’,” Annabelle said. “You can say that all you like and I’ll respect it, but sometimes these things don’t happen on your timeframe or your schedule. Sometimes life intervenes.”

I narrowed my gaze at her. “Like fate?”

“No, I wouldn’t dare utter such a thing as fate around the terrifying, doesn’t-believe-in-love, Echo Hayes.”

I smirked. “You think I’m terrifying?”

She held her thumb and forefinger close together. “Just a smidge. I’m just thankful you’re on my side.”

“Always,” I said, the power in that word mending some broken connection between us. Even when I hadn’t been there, I’d never not considered Annabelle my best friend.

“I have a grand idea,” she said, clearing her throat as if something had tightened it. “Why don’t you call the boy in question and ask him what in tarnation he meant by leaving you a key.”

I chuckled again, the action releasing the final waves of tension coiling my body. “I’m glad you came,” I said. “I needed this.”

“Well,” she said. “My morning was clear.”

“I highly doubt that,” I said. Being the city clerk of Sweet Water was a twenty-four-seven type of job. One I didn’t envy her for, but she was damn good at it.

“I made it clear,” she answered, and I grinned.

“Such a rebel,” I said. “Clearing a schedule for a black sheep.”

“Now, Echo, you know I’d never call you a black sheep.”

“Of course not,” I said. “You’d never be caught dead insulting anyone.” I eyed her. “Unless you were Sandy Preston.”

Annabelle practically hissed. “That tramp is one piece of memory lane I don’t need to explore.”

“I love it when your claws come out.”

This time she was the one laughing.

And I joined her until the entrance door to the bar swung open, and one such dark piece of my memory lane strolled through it.

“Ugh,” I groaned, pocketing the key, and hurrying around the bar. “You can’t keep showing up like this, Chad.” I stopped him before he could make it too far inside the bar.

“What?” He gazed down at me, his eyes cloudy. “This is a bar, Echo. I’m allowed to come get a drink.”

“Not while I’m here,” I said, my voice firm. I sucked in a deep breath, trying like hell to calm my nerves. The last time him and his friends had shown up I’d been cordial because he’d promised he was clean, but after spending more time with Sawyer, I knew I didn’t want any connection to my old life. To the person I used to be.

“That’s hardly fair,” he said, his hands on my shoulders.

“Oh, God,” I said, my nose wrinkling. “You reek of it,” I said in a hushed tone. That cloying metallic scent of chemicals. “Clean, huh?”

“This is an old jacket!” he snapped. “I’m clean, I swear.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter, Chad. I’ve tried to help you in the past, and you’ve never cared. I’m telling you now, leave this place.” I spun on my heels, knowing better than to stand there and argue while I was working.

My cell vibrated in my pocket as I rounded the bar and I fished it out, winking at Annabelle as she glared daggers at Chad.

“Sawyer?” I answered, my mind reeling with blinding panic. Visions of car wrecks or bad injuries on the ice filled my brain.

“Whoa,” he said. “Are you okay? You sound panicked.”

“You always text me!” I didn’t mean to snap, but I couldn’t get my racing heart to calm.

“Well, I had time for a call. Is this a bad time?”

“You’re okay?” I breathed a little easier.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I clenched my eyes shut. I was fucking losing it. This is why I never got attached to anyone. Every phone call became a trigger for the worst.

“I’m sorry. It’s me. I just…anyway, what’s up?”

“Honestly?”

“Always, Sawyer.”

“I hadn’t received a random fact text, and we’re going to take ice in an hour. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t disappeared on me.”

I bit back my smile. “Not yet,” I teased.

“Good. I was worried last night might’ve—”

“Come on, Echo, you know you missed me,” Chad practically yelled, hanging over the bar. “Least you can do is get me a drink.”

“Who was that?” Sawyer’s voice had gone cold.

“No one,” I said. “I’ll call you after the game. Cover that net, West Coast.” I quickly hung up, pocketing my cell before I calmly set my hands on the bar, eyes locked on Chad’s. “I have the right to refuse service to anyone,” I said, my tone lethal. “And you, Chad, have used up your charity quota with me. I’m done trying. Done paying for my past by trying to help you. You don’t want my help. You want the drama that comes from hurting me. And I’m done. Leave.”