Page 5 of Rebels and Roses

It might be a relief that it wasn’t his ex, but it being her brother didn’t make any of this any better. If anything, it was far more bizarre. As far as he knew, Tom lived in London. That was a hell of a long flight to play a prank.

I don’t have the patience for this.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Tom laughed. “I see you haven’t changed much.”

“I’m not going to say that it’s nice to see you, because I haven’t decided yet if it is. And you haven’t answered my question yet. Does this have something to do with Fiona? Is she okay?”

Tom’s smile instantly dropped, his shoulders stiffening.

“This isn’t about Fiona. She doesn’t even know that I’m here. I want…no…I need to talk to you, Coop. I don’t know who else can help me. I’m at the end of my rope.”

Cooper and Tom hadn’t been all that close when he was married to Fiona. They’d spent time together but in a more superficial way. Not best buddies, but certainly friendly. They’d never confided in one another or dug deep into one another’s lives. It didn’t make any sense for Tom to be here in Winslow Heights asking for help.

Which is what made the request interesting to Cooper. He was the last person on earth that Tom should be talking to…and yet…

Here they were.

“Tate, we’re going to take that booth over there,” Cooper said, never taking his gaze away from his former brother-in-law. “Can you send a large pizza over?”

His curiosity had won out. He had to know what was going on. If Cooper wasn’t sure he was awake, he would have thought he was having some weird dream after eating spicy food.

“Will do,” Tate replied, tossing his bar rag over his shoulder. He’d been watching the play-by-play closely. Cooper had no doubt he was going to be grilled later by his brother as to what all of this was about. “I’ll get that order in now. What do you want to drink?”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

Cooper had a feeling he might need it. The entire situation was bizarre. The last thing in his life that he’d expected was to hear from Fiona. Or her brother Tom.

They sat down facing each other as Tate slid a whiskey in front of Cooper before disappearing into the back kitchen. His gaze studied Tom’s face and posture closely, looking for some clue as to what was going on here. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of prank, although he didn’t have a clue as to why Tom or his ex would do something like that. They’d happily stayed on opposite sides of the Atlantic for years, never communicating in any way. It had worked for them.

“I know I sound a bit crazy,” Tom finally said after the long silence. “But I’m not. I’m completely sane.”

“I’ve never thought of you as someone who wasn’t in touch with reality. I’ve never seen you overreact.”

Tom pressed a palm to his chest and took a relieved breath.

“Thank you for saying that. My friends and family are acting like I’ve lost it.”

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, and how I, specifically, can help you. Start from the beginning, okay?”

“I’m not even sure where the beginning is,” Tom replied with a nod. “But I’ll try.”

The silence stretched awkwardly as Cooper allowed the younger man to collect his thoughts. In the meantime, he sippedat his drink, the smooth liquid leaving a welcome trail of fire all the way to his belly.

“I guess it all started about six months ago,” Tom said, his fingers clutching his beer bottle so hard that the knuckles were white.

It was clear to see that the man was disturbed by something or someone. He was usually the happy-go-lucky sort who laughed and smiled far more than frowned. He had a bit of a hair-trigger temper, but Cooper had only seen it once or twice. And for good reason, too. Tom wasn’t the sort who flew off the handle often.

“It wasn’t a big thing at first. I didn’t think much of it. There were times that I thought I was being watched. It’s almost like I can physically feel them staring. If you’ve never felt it, I’m not sure I can explain it. For the first few weeks, I just dismissed it as maybe I was drinking too much, or I’d watched too many true crime stories with my girlfriend Erica. She loves those shows about serial killers. You know the ones that I’m talking about?”

“I do.”

Cooper sometimes would research true crime for ideas for his books, but eventually, he’d stopped as he’d found that the truth was often more unbelievable than fiction.

“Yeah, so I just thought I should watch some funny movies or something like that. But it didn’t stop. It got worse. Much worse.”

“What happened that was worse?” Cooper asked, still not sure how he fit into this tale.

“My condo was broken into, and they stole my television and laptop. One night after having a few drinks with some co-workers, I was walking home and heard footsteps behind me. I kept walking faster and faster, almost running, but they stuck with me until I got inside of my car.”

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