Page 120 of False Start

twenty-six

The crowdat Banked Track went wall to wall. Our entire team, Priest’s friends, Lana and Zach, they all followed us into town for dinner and drinks. Instead of giving us menus, Patti had the kitchen keep our table full of wings, sliders, fried haddock, and baskets upon baskets of fries and onion rings with pitchers of beer to wash it all down.

Our players let loose in a way we hadn’t been able to—well, ever actually.

For the first time we were all together. Everyone made the time, got babysitters, took vacation days, traded shifts, anything they had to do to be here. Marty and Rory made sure to pin Tilly in the center of the booth in case she got any ideas, but so far, she laughed along with them, the smile finally chasing away that wariness in her eyes.

Patti hopped behind the bar, keeping Milton and Gerald in beers and laughs; I guess kind of the way I did with them in the morning with decaf and tough love.

I’d always wanted to be Patti when I grew up.

Halfway there.

Now to work on more of those laughs.

Priest’s cop friends drew in a bunch of other officers from Galloway Bay and even Sheriff Chase brought in his nephew, Maverick. They stood in a cluster by the bar, giving me a few minutes to watch Priest.

Animated in a way I’d never seen him, the bonds he still had here, the ones he didn’t speak about, they rippled in the grins, laughs, the flow of conversation, and the body language as the guys circled in, a tight unit, the kind of bond that you would walk away from for a month, a year, or even a decade and slide right back into the minute you came back.

But also, the kind of bond that could stand with you through anything if you stayed…as long as you let them.

That’s all I wanted…for him to let them.

Even if it meant for whatever reason, he didn’t choose me to stay for.

“Did you talk him into staying yet?” Lana asked, nudging me as she popped a French fry in her mouth.

Elbows on the table, I turned and propped my hand on my fist. “Does anyone have the power to do that?”

She pointed a fry at me. “If anyone can, it’s you. He loves you, you know.”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

She pointed at her beer, then at the Game of Thrones T-shirt stretched across her boobs with the words, “I drink and I know things.”

I chuckled. “You’re going to have to do better than that, but hey, impressive rack.”

“I know, right? They look pretty great in this T-shirt.”

“They look even better out of it,” Zack said quietly beside her before taking a sip of beer.

“You keep saying sweet nothings like that and I might just say yes next time,” Lana said as she leaned into him and nuzzled his neck.

“Say yes? Wait—did you propose?”

He stroked his fingers over Lana’s hair and leaned in. “Three times.”

This time I was the one nudging with elbows. “What are you waiting for?”

Lana sighed, her smile slipping. “To deserve it.”

“Oh, Lana. You and Priest are just hell-bent on self-torture. Don’t waste time…sometimes the supply runs short.”

And the end came with no warning.

The loss that once sliced at me had waned over the years, becoming this dull ache filled with regret. More than anything, I wished my mom could see that I was okay.

It’d been bumpy for a while—I glanced up then to find Priest watching me, that turbulent look in his eyes, his past not quite done with him yet—was definitely going to be bumpy again soon, but I might have just found a place for myself here with these people.

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