Finally, she glanced his way and did a double take. Recognition crossed her face along with an entire range of emotions Cooper didn’t dare interpret. Instead of a welcoming smile, a huge frown marred her once pretty face. Her eyes narrowed, and she walked toward him with purpose. She paused to say something to the bartender, who raised both brows and stared openly at them, contempt in his bloodshot eyes.
In a protective move, Cooper pulled Izzy closer to him. He shouldn’t have brought her here. By the look on Julie’s face and the bartender’s belligerent stance, there could be trouble, and he didn’t want Izzy in the middle of it. He glanced over at Russ, who appeared to be alert and watching for the first sign of a problem.
Thank God for Russ.
Julie dropped into the chair across the table and studied both of them. She addressed Izzy first in a hoarse voice ruined by too many cigarettes and drugs. “Slumming it, honey? This doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”
Izzy smiled sweetly, one of those scary smiles that would send a smart person running for cover. “Any place with Cooper is my kind of place.”
Julie studied her, shrugged, and turned her full attention to Cooper. At least, she appeared straight and sober—for now.
“I have something of yours,” Cooper said, forcing his voice to stay neutral.
“Riley found you, did he?” She leaned back and yawned. “He’s a smart kid. I knew if I left your address where he could find it, he’d go to you.”
“You walked out on your son, leaving him to fend for himself. What kind of a mother does that?” Cooper looked for a sign on her face that she regretted what she’d done to Riley, but all he saw was contempt. He hadn’t come her to fight with her or piss her off. He’d come here hoping she was sorry for what she’d done to Riley and willing to clean up her act for her son.
He’d been wrong. So wrong. He was a damn fool to think she cared about anyone but herself.
“Riley can take care of himself. I raised him to be independent,” she said insolently. “We don’t need anybody but ourselves.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. He’s a kid.” Cooper’s anger started a slow boil. Izzy rubbed his thigh, but her touch didn’t calm him this time.
“What’s the matter, little brother? Is Ry cutting into your party time?”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Riley. It’s about you abandoning your son.” Cooper itched to reach across that table and shake some sense into her. “He’s been worried sick.”
“He doesn’t need to be. I’m fine, but my boyfriend doesn’t like kids.” She toyed with a napkin, tearing it in small pieces, as if the conversation bored her. “If his presence is an issue, put him in foster care, and pretend you never met him. That’s what you’re good at anyway, pretending stuff never happened, and going on about your perfect life while the rest of us die a little inside every day.”
Cooper bit down on his lip until the pain forced him to concentrate. “I was a kid.” This was not the place to have this conversation, especially in front of Izzy.
“So was I. But I grew up pretty fast, and you didn’t do anything but run and hide while I faced his wrath and took it for my two baby brothers.” The resentment and hatred in her voice hit Cooper like a punch in the gut by a heavyweight boxing champion.
He glanced at Izzy. Her brow furrowed with puzzlement and worry.
“What did you expect us to do?”
“You were little cowards. When the neighbors called the police because they were suspicious, you guys denied anything was going on. They could’ve rescued us, gotten us out of there. It was my word against yours, and I paid for it once the cops left.”
Cooper wanted to cover his ears with his hands, but the sounds of Julie’s begging and crying were in his head, and nothing would shut them out.
“I’m sorry.” Cooper shook his head. “He said he’d kill us if we ever talked, and I believed him.”
“You were taking care of yourself. One thing you’ve always been good at. You’re the reason I’m like this. The drugs are the only thing that dull the pain, help me forget, even for a little while.”
“I knew what it would do to Mom. She wasn’t well.”
“What about what it did to me?” She jabbed her finger at him, close to his face. He refused to flinch.
“I’m sorry. I was scared, too.” Cooper’s stomach rolled, and he forced back the bile that caught in his throat. Not only had he been scared but he’d been suffering his own trauma at the hands of their new uncle. He’d barely been able to save himself, let alone her.
She rolled her eyes. “Get out of my life. You’ve been out of it for years, stay out.”
“Then why did you come to Seattle, knowing they’d moved my team here?”
Julie looked away and swallowed, for a moment reminding him of the older sister he’d once adored. “I don’t know.” When she looked back at him, tears were in her eyes.
“Let me help you, Julie,” Cooper pleaded. “I can help you get in the best rehab program—”
“No, I’m not interested. I like my life as it is.” Her face hardened, and she shut down.
“But Riley—”
“Riley will be just fine. Tell him I’m okay, and I’ll catch up with him later.”
Cooper stood, disgusted with his sister and overwhelmed by guilt. His brain was a muddled mess of conflicting feelings. He’d never realized how much Julie blamed him. As unfair as it was, he blamed himself, too.
Dragging Izzy with him, Cooper hurried from the bar, not caring that the rain ran down his face. He paused to thank Russ then ran with Izzy for the SUV. Once inside, they didn’t speak until they were on I-5 heading for Seattle. He knew Izzy was dying to ask questions about things he’d kept locked tight in a compartment all these years, just like his uncle had locked him in that trunk a couple hours a day while he molested Julie. Cooper could hear her screams and whimpers, and he didn’t know which was worse, being locked up or listening to his sister plead while the old man grunted and groaned. The memories made him want to throw up.
“Cooper, slow down. You’re scaring me.” Izzy touched his arm, causing Cooper to pull himself back from the brink. He stared down at the speedometer, shocked to see it hovering near ninety. Cooper let off the gas, and the car slowed to sixty.
“Sorry,” he muttered.