Page 29 of Halfway to Hell
“Fuck you,” he growled, then slammed the phone down on the bar.
Texas stared at it for a long moment, the urge to strangle Monday burning hot inside him. Maybe Vicious too—for giving her his number in the first place.
“Texas, brother, what’s got you in such a mood?”
Eros’s voice cut through the din, pulling Texas’s gaze from the wall of liquor lined up behind the bar. He glanced at his brother, then back to the bottles, weighing his next move.
Texas signaled the bartender, wordless but clear—he wanted a bottle and two shot glasses.
“Nope,” Eros said with a shake of his head, cutting off the bartender. “Two shots will suffice.”
“If you don’t wanna drink with me, Nakota, then go away.”
Eros crossed his arms on the bar, leaning in just enough so Texas couldn’t miss his words. “You’ve been in a mood since this morning. If it’s about the girl, then deal with it and move on. If it’s something else, tell me. Then we can fix it so you can get past it? Either way, you can’t drown yourself in a bottle when you’re on the job.”
Tossing back the shot, Texas slammed his glass down and closed out his tab without a word to Eros. The brother was right, it wouldn’t do anyone any good for him to pour himself into a bottle. It had been years since he’d gone that route, and he wasn’t about to start again.
After Lisa died, he’d been drunk more than sober. Months spent holed up in their house, drowning in grief and whiskey. He’d even carved her name into his chest—raw, desperate, a mark of love and loss.
When he finally got sober, he covered the scar with a bleeding heart tattoo. A love like theirs was hard to get over.
Glancing up, Texas caught the news playing on the TV, a photo of Dalton flickering on the screen.
“Can you turn that up, please?” he asked the bartender.
Texas settled back as the newscaster’s voice filled the room.
“A home invasion left the homeowner severely injured,” the reporter began. “The victim, Dalton Cromer, was attacked inside his own home by an unknown assailant.”
Police Officer Lloyd of the Sudbury Police Department appeared on screen next, his expression grim. “Mr. Cromer was blindfolded, gagged, and bound during the assault,” he said. “In addition to these restraints, the attacker mutilated the young man’s genitals.”
The newscaster continued, “Authorities believe this was a targeted attack linked to local drug dealers with whom Cromer had recent dealings.”
Eros waited until the bartender turned the volume down and walked away before speaking. “So… that’s what you were doing in Sudbury.”
Texas didn’t look up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nakota.”
Eros smirked, his voice low and steady, “does she know what you did to her attacker?”
Texas’s jaw tightened. Eros might not recieve outright admissions, but he knew exactly the kind of torture Texas was capable of. Texas chose to ignore the sharp stare Eros leveled at him. Instead, he shifted gears. “Grab us a table while I go get Sunday. She’s probably starving by now.”
Sliding off his stool, Texas headed toward the exit.
Catching a break in the weather, he moved quickly back to the hotel room, silently hoping Sunday hadn’t thrown a glass at his head in his absence. Patting his pockets, frustration hit him—he hadn’t grabbed the room key when he stormed out.
He knocked gently on the door, then shoved his hands back into his pockets and waited.
Sunday heard the knock and moved toward the door. Pulling back the curtain, she saw Texas standing there. Unlocking the door, she stepped aside to let him in.
Needing to apologize, she reached out and touched his hand gently, silently begging him to see her without anger. When his eyes met hers, something unspoken stirred inside her. Before she could think better of it, she stepped into his larger frame, rising onto her tiptoes to press a tentative kiss to his lips.
She caught the flicker of shock in his eyes and instantly knew she’d messed up again.
“What’re you doing?”
“Sorry, I was...” she began, voice trembling.
Texas took her hand and led her over to the bed. “Please, sit down.”
