His head twisted in my direction. “I’m right about what?”
“You did open up to me, and I did hurt you. You have no reason to want to do that with me or anyone else again.” The trees were becoming less of a blur, which meant we were slowing down. Which meant we were getting closer. I didn’t want to be battling Boone right before we threw Dolly into the mix. Back when we were kids, I knew I could rely on him to intervene if she decided to take a swing at me or wrap her hands around my throat and drain the life from me like I knew she’d been fantasizing about ever since an Abbott started dating her son.
This time, after everything . . . I couldn’t be quite so sure Boone would be in the same kind of rush to intervene.
“Are you being serious right now? Or ironic?” he asked, the truck making a sharp turn into the bar’s rudimentary parking lot. “Maybe a punchline on the horizon, or am I just failing to pick up on your sarcasm?”
“Yes, no, no, and no,” I replied. “I get where you’re coming from, and I respect it.” I made myself look away from the window and focus on him.
After he parked the truck out front of the bar, he stared inside, but didn’t seem in a hurry to go in.
“But you did the same to me, Boone. I trusted you. I opened up to you. When there was no one else in the world I felt like I could talk to, there was you. And then everything fell apart, and you wrecked me too.” I kept looking at him, waiting for him to turn his attention my way. “So please stop pretending you were the only casualty in the game of you and me. Because I bled just like you did. I died a little that day too.”
Boone’s fingers clenched the steering wheel, twisting up and down on it. “I guess we weren’t as alone as we thought.”
I followed his gaze toward the bar. I’d be stalling too if I had to go into that packed place and drag my mom out kicking and screaming. “I guess not.”
Giving a nod, Boone sucked in a deep breath then threw the door open. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
I’d heard that phrase so many times from him, it had become branded into my memory. “I’ll go with you. To help.”
Boone gave me a look as he crawled out. “Thanks for the offer, but your presence while trying to haul my mom out of her favorite bar isn’t going to help.”
“How do you know? I haven’t seen Dolly in years, and from the sounds of it, she’s probably five drinks past facial recognition.”
Boone cracked his neck, holding his arms against the top of the truck and bracing himself. “My mom wasn’t exactly fond of you when we were together.”
“Not exactly fond of me?” I twisted in my seat and peaked an eyebrow. “Boone, she would have flipped the switch on the electric chair if I was strapped into it. With a smile on her face.”
His eyes reached me. “Yeah, well, along with that smile, now she’d dance a jig and throw an after party for the entire state. You should stay here.” He shoved away from the truck and lifted an outstretched palm in my direction. “She doesn’t know you’re back. She doesn’t know we’re together. ‘Together,’” he clarified, making air quotes. “With her so drunk Hank’s threatening to call the cops, I don’t want to add you into the mix when I go in there. That’s like masterminding some perfect storm.”
I reached for the door handle. “You used to be able to tell me what to do and I’d listen. Not so much anymore.”
His hands settled onto his hips as he angled away from me. “I don’t want you to see this, Clara. I don’t want you to have to see this ever again. It’s humiliating. For my mom. For me. Please,” he said, still facing the bar more than he was facing me, “please stay.”
My hand stayed on the handle, wanting to push it open. “Are you asking or telling?”
He looked at me over his shoulder. “Asking. Always asking.”
My hand fell from the handle to wave him on. “Go get her. I’ll stay here. Wishing I’d packed my full body armor, which I would have, had I known I’d be coming face-to-face with Dolly tonight.”
Boone’s chuckle was barely detectable, but I didn’t miss it. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Anyone takes a swing at you, my mom included, they’ll have to get through me first.”
I lifted my fist and circled it a few times. “Who says I haven’t been taking kickboxing, jiu jitsu, and tae kwon do classes the past seven years?”
“Please, with those skinny little arms?” Boone shook his head. “No way.”
“Little arms?” I lifted my arm and inspected it. “You might be the only person in Charleston who would call these arms little. My mom will have you chained to a stake and burned for heresy if you repeat that in her presence.”