They hadn’t arrested him, but he felt like a criminal all the same. Because behind the veil of his blank memory, he knew, just knew in his bones that he had done something—or many somethings—very, very bad.
“Are you okay?” Raven glanced over at him from the driver’s seat of her Ford Focus as she pulled into the parking lot of the pub. Her father’s truck sat in its place behind the back door, near the dumpster. She parked beside it. “You’re awfully quiet.”
Mack had been drumming his fingers on his knees and now flexed them and glanced over at her. The lights from the lot shone down on her, her blue eyes soft.
“I’m fine.”
How could he tell her that the moment the police had arrived he’d fought the urge to bolt? Who but a criminal had that reaction to a cop?
“I’ll bet you’re wondering why Teddy…well, why he attacked me tonight.”
“You don’t have to talk about it.”
“Yes, I do. It helps me sort it out.” She blew out a breath. “I met Teddy when I was a freshman at WSU. He played baseball, was super popular, and when I met him, he was so nice. Attentive. He gave me gifts and came to my open mics. He was sweet and tried hard…but he had a temper. He blew up at me for the smallest of reasons…usually not because of me but something else. And then he’d apologize and do his best to fix it.”
“That’s called emotional abuse, by the way.”
She nodded and turned off the car. “I know that now. Then, I thought there was something wrong with me. I started to do everything I could to make him happy…”
The memory of Teddy’s hand on her throat tightened a fist in Mack’s chest. “Did he physically hurt you when you were dating?”
“He pushed me a couple times. Grabbed my arm hard, once.”
Mack should have hit him harder. More.
“I broke up with him twice before I realized that I had this weird addiction to wanting to please him. I’m not sure why—maybe because I thought I needed him. That I was better with him.”
“What was he doing here tonight?”
“I don’t know. He texts me every once in a while, and sometimes…I don’t know. I fall for it. I text him back. I try and be nice. It’s probably my fault he showed up here—”
“It’s not your fault he attacked you—”
“I know. When he showed up last time with his friend, he left right after you walked me to the car. Tonight, well, he was so nice and said he’d missed me, and for a long minute, I fell for it. Then he told me that he didn’t care that I’d left him, that he’d take me back, and I thought…what was I doing? That girl—the one who let him hurt me—she’s gone. Or at least, I want her to be, so I told him to get out, and he just…flipped.” She looked at him. “I know I deserve better than that, but sometimes I have a hard time believing it, you know?”
He did know. Deep inside, although he hadn’t a clue why.
Just that, at his core, he knew he probably didn’t deserve anything good. And his instincts tonight only confirmed it—during and after the fight.
But Raven wasn’t him. Wasn’t the kind of person who let rage fuel her, who was so easy with her fists that she didn’t let pain slow her down. So, “Why don’t you deserve better, Raven?”
She made a face, shook her head, looked away.
Okay. He drew in a breath. “We often don’t see ourselves the way we are.”
“No duh, Superman.” She looked back at him, and it seemed her eyes were glistening. “You were a hero tonight.”
“A guy ended up in the hospital because of me.”
“It was about time.”
Yeah, okay, he could agree. “Still…”
“Made you wonder where you got those skills, right?”
Mack said nothing.
“I’ve never seen him so angry as tonight.” She smiled. “Thank you for what you did.” Her hand slid to his arm. “I’m glad my dad found you.”
Oh. His heart thumped at the expression on her face. “Raven—”
“I know you’re trying to figure things out, Mack. But you have a place to stay here, as long as you need it. And…I hope you’ll stay.”
He wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but her words settled into his bones.
Whoever he’d been in the past, he didn’t want to be him anymore. And maybe, if he was careful, he never had to be again.
Maybe he could be a guy who deserved a happy ending.
“You don’t have to go in,” she said quietly. “My dad is still here. He’ll probably spend the night on his sofa in the office…” She licked her lips. “You could come back to our place and we could, um, talk…”
Oh yeah, she had talking on her mind. And frankly, he wasn’t far from wanting a long conversation either, but even as the thought swept in, something like shame followed it.
Hmm. So, he might be a criminal, but apparently he wasn’t the kind of guy to take a girl home for the night either.
Interesting.
Mack put his hand on hers, held it a moment, then slid it away. “Thanks, but I’m beat. See you tomorrow?”
Although Raven gave him a nod, a smile, a hint of disappointment hued her eyes. “Okay, Slugger. See you.”
Mack got out and stood back while she drove away, then headed into the pub’s back entrance.
A light shone from the office just off the kitchen, and he walked past his apartment entrance and stopped at the open office door, knocking on the jamb.
Jethro looked up, his readers down on his nose. He reminded Mack of that British actor who’d played James Bond—Daniel Craig. Lean, no-nonsense, and the fact Mack could even remember that made him wonder just how selective his memory might be.
Maybe he was hiding his identity from himself.
Jethro looked up and pulled off his glasses. “So, how’d it go?”
“Raven gave her statement, and with yours and mine, they released me. Teddy is at the hospital—has a broken nose.”
“Good thing you came out when you did. I would have brought my shotgun,” Jethro said as he turned in his desk chair. “I never liked Teddy, but I tried to be nice to him. My mistake. I should have told Raven from the beginning that he was bad news.”
The metal desk and tall filing cabinet took up one wall of the office. A bookshelf on the other, filled with supplies, books, old promotional giveaways, and every manner of clutter, suggested the man had little time to organize his life.
The old sofa shoved against the far wall only confirmed it.
Jethro’s pub was his entire life. That, and Raven.
“Why didn’t you like him?” Mack asked.
“Fatherly instincts, maybe. I tend to know if someone is good stock—it’s a gift.”
Mack didn’t want to ask him—
“I knew right off that although you had been through something, I could trust you.”
He didn’t want to disagree, so, “Thanks for that.”
Jethro pointed to his head. “Anything coming back upstairs?”
Mack picked up a picture of Ace and Raven holding a stringer of fish. “Naw. Just shadows.” He put the picture back on the shelf. “I do have this one recurring dream of being on a train, but I don’t know where it is. And people are speaking a foreign language, and I understand it, but when I wake up, I can’t remember what language it is.”