“I’d never throw away something you have me.”
“You did throw away something I gave you,” he replied. His jaw trembled slightly.
“That’s not true,” she whispered.
“Isn’t it, though? I gave you everything. I was going to give you half of everything I’ve built, my fortune, my business—all of it.”
“I didn’t ask for anything.”
He waved her excuse away like he’d swatted a fly. “I don’t even care about the money. But I gave you my trust, Nicole.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do this, Red. You can’t just come back into my life and dump everything on me.” She started to walk away from him.
For a moment he didn’t follow her, and then he came running and grabbed her arm, spinning her towards him. His face was closer to hers now, and she could read every conflicting emotion in his expression. “I’m sorry I lost it that night at my house,” he said. “I wanted to tell you…” his voice faded.
“Why can’t you explain it?”
“Because, it’s too painful.”
“Can’t you at least try?” she said.
He laughed and put his hands on his hips, looked around at the people walking obliviously past them on the street. “Just another day in the city,” he laughed. “This city has seen it all.”
“Don’t avoid my question, Red.”
“I’m not.” He exhaled deeply. “It’s something that I try to pretend isn’t there. Something that won’t ever go away, no matter how much I wish it would.”
“What won’t go away?”
“Who I am. My penchant for pushing people away who get to close to me.” He smiled bitterly. “I’m well aware of my tendencies, but that doesn’t make it easier.”
“You wanted to push me away that night,” she said.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“It started when you told me I was naughty.”
Red flinched slightly. “Yes. That’s probably true. Having you in my home was something that triggered something…something dark.”
“Why?”
He laughed. “I have a feeling you won’t stop asking ‘why’ until I tell you everything.” Red stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Let me take you out for a bite to eat.”
“I don’t know,” she said, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Let’s grab a beer then. It’s too difficult to talk like this.”
She’d never seen Red Jameson beg before, and it was unnerving. He was making himself vulnerable for her—she had an idea of how difficult that was for him.
Finally, she assented. “Sure, one beer.”
He grinned, almost looking like his old self. “How about that little pub on the corner?” he asked.
It was called The Cask ’n Flagon and Nicole had never been there before. Inside, it was dingy and mostly empty, which was strange for that time of night. But then they sat down at a booth and the server came to their table and Nicole instantly knew why nobody was there.
The server, a young woman with bad skin and a bad attitude, barely even looked at them. She slapped down two menus and walked off without even asking if they wanted a drink, or saying hello.
“Someone’s having a bad day,” Nicole murmured, as the server stalked off.
Red chuckled. “Aren’t we all?”
Nicole tapped her fingers on the tabletop nervously. Red seemed to relax in his chair, comfortable now that the two of them had some time to speak.
The moody waitress came back and took their order. A couple of beers and nothing else; she wasn’t impressed and left in a hurry.
“You said having me in the house triggered something,” Nicole reminded him.
The smile faded from his lips and his eyes grew cold. “Yes.”
“I don’t understand why.”
He shifted in his seat. She could tell he truly didn’t want to talk about it, the conversation was making him anxious—and nothing ever made Red anxious.
“It sounds silly,” he began, hesitant. “But when I was a kid—“
The waitress stomped back to their table and plopped down the two glasses of beer. “Should I start a tab?”
Red checked with Nicole, which she’d never seen him do.
She shook her head. “Just these, I think.”
The waitress rolled her eyes. “That’ll be ten dollars and fifty cents.”
Red immediately paid with a twenty. “Keep the change.”
She didn’t even thank him, just took the bill and clomped off again.
“What happened when you were a kid?”
He held his beer and examined it, turning the glass this way and that, tilting it, finally he drank deeply, licked his lips. “My childhood wasn’t so easy,” he said, finally. “I don’t want to make it overly dramatic, though. Plenty have it worse.”