Page 58 of Panty Dropper

“Mr. Abernathy,” I said, my voice low and steady. I was pleased with myself for putting on a calm front. I’d had plenty of practice and was pretty damn good at it from my years of experience as a lawyer.

Jennings Abernathy looked me up and down as if he were searching for something, or making an evaluation based on what he saw. “Ms. York, I’m surprised to see you here. I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with the Comforts.”

The way he uttered the phrase “the Comforts” was more like he was talking about bugs that had infiltrated his house, as opposed to the grieving family hosting the funeral reception he was attending.

“I handled the disposition of the late Mr. Comfort’s will,” I reminded him. As the senior partner at our small firm, he would’ve been well aware of every case that came through our door.

“Really? I had no idea,” he said, and my bullshit detector was going off like a fire alarm.

Why the hell would he lie about that? Why even bring it up in the first place? Why approach me here? Why be here at all?

I didn’t know the answer to any of those questions, I only knew that when it came to lying, he definitely was.

He aimed a tight smile at Billy, then, and said, “On days like these, I can’t help but be reminded of your mother’s loss, so many years ago. She was a good woman.”

Why was this man bringing up Billy losing his mom? What sort of a sociopath was I working for?

I glanced back over my shoulder and saw that Billy’s face was hard, like it had been chiseled from stone, and when he spoke, his voice was the same. “She was.”

Abernathy pushed on, and it was clear to me that he was not only aware of Billy’s growing hostility, he was encouraging it.

“I’ll never forget her, you know. Driving along in that little convertible of hers.” Abernathy stared off blankly. “Listening to Otis Redding, her favorite blue scarf tied around her hair.”

Oddly enough, I got the impression that the man was actually lost in memory. That it wasn’t a put on. That unsettled me more.

The next thing I knew, I felt Billy lunge behind me at the same time I saw a large arm whoosh by my head. I looked up and saw Hank standing next to me, reaching across the bar top holding his brother at bay with one arm. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Jimmy had flanked the other side of me.

“Abernathy.” The youngest Comfort smiled as he slapped his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thanks for stopping by. I think it’s time you go.”

I waited, my pulse in my throat as I willed Abernathy to do as he was asked. Thankfully, he did. Without so much as a glance in Billy’s direction, Jennings Abernathy turned and headed toward the door. I let out a breath of relief. I could still feel the palpable rage radiating off of Billy on my back, but hadn’t expected the murderous look in his eyes when I glanced over my shoulder at him.

“Get him out of here.” Hank commanded with quiet authority.

My gaze shot to Hank to see who the eldest Comfort brother was instructing to “get him out of here” and was shocked to find that his eyes were focused on me. Me. Why was Hank asking me?

Before I came up with an answer Billy’s hands flattened on the bar and he hopped over the counter with ninja like speed and grace, his lethal stare focused on Abernathy’s retreating back.

On instinct I lifted my hand to his chest. “Billy.” My voice was quiet, so quiet I wasn’t sure it was even audible. But it did the trick. His eyes landed on mine but it was like he wasn’t seeing me. His deep brown stare was clouded with pain, anger, and rage.

“I need air,” I said calmly keeping my hand in place.

His heartbeat pounded beneath my palm as his chest rose and fell in short pants. With each second that passed, as he continued staring into my eyes, I could see and feel him begin to relax.

“Take a walk with me?” I suggested hopefully.

His response came in a clipped dip of his chin.

As we exited out the back of the bar there was a hush in the crowd. For some reason a scene from the original Beverly Hills 90210 played in my mind, the one where Dylan runs out of a hotel his father is staying at and smashes a potted plant in anger, scaring Brenda who runs away. He chases her and falls apart in her arms in tears, exorcising demons that had plagued him for years.

I wasn’t sure why this situation reminded me of that, especially since I wasn’t scared at all. The stakes felt the same though. Billy definitely had demons tormenting him. It was clear that he needed a Brenda, and surprisingly, I’d decided to cast myself in that role.

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