“Fat chance.”
His shoulders slumped and he shot her a look she’d never seen on that handsome face before—weary frustration. He slid the mug before her on the counter. “Honey, you’ve got to face him sometime. And the sooner the better, if you don’t want to give him any more reasons to be pissed with you. Tell me what exactly it is you’re scared of.”
“His anger.” There was more, of course. But she couldn’t say, I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me, once you hear his side of things. Neither could she say she was afraid that James might feel justified in trying to take the baby away from her—by law or by force—because there was no way she was telling Casey what kind of a person she’d been before they’d met.
She expanded on that lesser but still real fear. “He’s got a violent streak and a hot temper. We had a bumpy, volatile relationship. I never wanted him in the baby’s life. I’d have been happy to never have told him, except your brother thought that was a really dangerous idea.”
Casey nodded. “Leave the eggs a second. Sit down.”
She moved to the table with him.
“I’ve asked you before, but tell me one more time—has he ever hit you?”
She shook her head. “But he’s shaken me. And I’ve seen him get physical with other people, and the way he looked those times . . . I’ve seen that in his eyes, when he’s been angry at me, and trying hard to keep it all in. Plus I’ve never done anything this bad before—keeping him in the dark about a child. I don’t want to find out what he’s capable of.”
“I don’t much relish finding that out, either, but it’s something we do need to know. You can’t spend the rest of your life in hiding, honey. And I know you’re starting to build a life for yourself here. You’re important to the bar, and I think you like that job.”
She nodded. She made good tips at Benji’s, and she liked feeling as if she had a place in this town—even if only as a bartender—after being adrift for five years. That was a long time to go, feeling like you didn’t belong anywhere, especially to a girl who’d had a seeming idyllic small-town childhood. Fortuity might be a hundred times rougher than Bloomville, Texas, but the bar’s customers knew her name and asked after her baby. Made her feel like somebody, nearly.
“I don’t think you want the solution to be that we dream you up some fake identity and ship you off to Arkansas to start over, all alone.”
Now, that chilled her. She was already living under a false identity, already neck-deep in her first fresh start. Already living in fear that Casey might one day glance at her health insurance paperwork and realize Abilene Price was not in fact her real name, and that she might have to spill about how it was she’d come to be here with him. Tell him things she’d never even told James . . . and he’d met her during the absolute pitch-black rock bottom of her life.
“I don’t want to go away,” she said quietly. “But I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet.”
“I kinda figured you’d say that.” Casey sighed, sipped his coffee. “So here’s the plan, okay? We sit on this issue until Ware’s turned up and made contact. Chances are, he’ll go after my brother. If he doesn’t try Vince first, it’ll be Duncan or Raina or me who encounters him, at the bar. Whatever the case, we’ll wait until he shows, and we’ll go from there. Take his temperature. See what he has to say.”
A great wave of guilt moved through her—a sour, sharp sensation that rose from her gut and flushed her face, stung her eyes. It must have shown, as Casey took her hand. “It’ll be okay.”