A Chance at Love (A Ferry Creek Novel): (a billionaire romance novel) (30 page)


No,

Bobby said.

But we

re going to lose him, Sullivan. It

ll lessen the hurt if you at
least had one conversation with him, okay?


Okay,

Sullivan said. He stood from
the chair and felt sweat pouring out of his body. A nervous, warm sweat. He
didn

t want to show emotion
in front of Bobby so he turned and grabbed the handle.

How the hell am I going to do
this?

Sullivan paused and then felt Bobby

s hand grab his arm. His brother
turned him around and they were face to face. Sullivan looked into Bobby

s eyes and knew he felt the same
fear and pain as Sullivan.

Without another word needed, they
hugged.

 

Darryl stared into the mug of black
coffee and felt a throb at the front of his head. He had been massaging his
head for the past five minutes and it did nothing, complements of the whiskey
he indulged in the night before. The world still revolved, sometimes faster, other
times slower, which meant time moved on, but it certainly didn

t feel that way. Darryl didn

t need to look at the calendar
on the wall in the kitchen of his aunt

s
house to know what day it was. The days were getting closer. The old, violent
memories were thriving and creeping forward in his mind.

This was the normal routine, only
this year he was alone.

So utterly alone it was disgusting.

Years ago he had
his boys
,
as he called them. He had the guys he rode with, going bar to bar, town to
town, raising hell, enjoying drinks and women, finding ways to silence the
demons by creating more. It wasn

t
the greatest life to live, so the second things started to bother him, he would
fire up his motorcycle and let the road and wind take care of everything. Some
nights he would pick a fight just to have something else to worry about. If he
won the fight, he would hide out to keep away from police. If he lost the
fight, he would tend to his wounds and it would keep his mind off the pain in
his heart. Other nights he spent it in the comfort of women. That was always a
sure fire way to cure most pain for a little while.

That

s
why had been with Jess.

He knew they would never end up
together. They wouldn

t
have a house, kids, a car payment. None of that domestic shit that could get a
biker thrown out of a club. Darryl just wanted the company. He liked Jess

s company because she never
asked questions, she never wanted anything, and she was always available.

Now with everything around him in
pieces and everyone gone, Darryl would have to face everything alone. The only
person he could remotely think about talking to was Tyler. But what would Tyler
know? He was just some middle class punk kid who grew up with a poor kid as a best
friend. Tyler went on to live his perfect life while Darryl had been dragged
through hell. That

s why he
had holes in the knees of his jeans... or at least that

s what he told people. They

d always laugh.

Darryl sipped the coffee and it
tasted like death. The coffeemaker in the house had to be at least twenty years
old, not that it would change the taste of the coffee. Everything in the house
was old and outdated. He should have done something with the house by now, but as
far as Darryl was concerned, the roof, the windows, and the walls did their
job, so what the hell else really mattered?

The second sip was as bad as the
first. It left Darryl with one choice. He closed his eyes and put the mug to
his lips. He threw his head back and drank the cup of coffee down in one big
gulp. It burned his mouth, throat, and stomach, but it quickly soothed the
feeling in his body. A few minutes later, it went to his head and started to
help.

It was too early to be awake
considering the night of self loathing Darryl had for himself but he couldn't
help it. As much as he drank, sleep just didn't come. He spent so many nights
lately tossing and turning, switching rooms, crashing on the couch, watching
movies, reruns on late night cable, and even suffered through an unhealthy dose
of infomercials.

His mind kept turning and the booze
wouldn't stop it.

Darryl stood from the table and
poured himself another cup of coffee. He then grabbed his cell phone and sat
down. He switched between the coffee and cell phone, wondering which one was
worse.

"Dammit," he growled as
he pressed a button on the cell phone. He waited and listened. The line picked
up. "Tyler, it's me... let's talk."

Knowing Tyler was the type to find
a million excuses not to face the truth, no matter how far in the past it went,
Darryl hung up the phone and dropped it to the table. He sat with his cup of
coffee and waited for Tyler.

Tyler arrived a short while later. He
knocked and Darryl yelled for him to come in. Yelling made the pain swell in
his head.

"You okay?" Tyler asked.

He stepped into the house in full
uniform. He had a hand on his gun and another reaching out. Tyler was assessing
the scene. Always on guard. Wondering if he was walking into booby trap.

"Take the badge off for a
second," Darryl said. "Christ, Tyler. It's me."

"I know that," Tyler
said. "I always need to be safe."

"Be safe and sit down. Talk
this through with me."

Tyler walked to the table.
"You sure about this?"

"There's nothing I'm sure
of," Darryl said. "But this damn feeling in my gut needs to go away.
I have nobody else right now, Tyler. I'm left with you."

"Yeah, thanks."

"It's the truth. Pretty boy
living the middle class life grows up to become the local cop. How perfect.
Make your rounds. Head to The Pot Diner and sip coffee and tell jokes. Break up
a drinking party down near the creek. Rinse and repeat, right?"

"What the hell is your problem
with me?" Tyler asked. "You know, I graduated high school on my own.
I paid my way through college. My parents aren't rich. They had just enough to
get to Florida and they get by with nothing extra. I worked my ass off for this
job and it's where I want to be. Why is that such a problem?"

Darryl laughed. Laughing even hurt
his head. He pointed to the chair Tyler leaned against.

"Sit down, buddy."

Tyler pulled the chair out and sat.
He put his hands on the table, folding them. "Look, nothing to worry
about. I'm not a cop right now."

"You sure as hell look like
one," Darryl said.

"Can't help that part of it,
Darryl. Cut me some slack."

"Cut you some slack,"
Darryl said. "After all I've been through."

"It wasn't my decision,"
Tyler said. "I talked to my parents and they said no. We were kids, Darryl."

Darryl slammed his fist to the
table. "You were a kid, Tyler. A baby face little boy hanging out with the
rough and tough guy in school. I wasn't a kid. My innocence was gone long
before you even knew what innocence meant."

"I'm sorry you had a rough
life," Tyler said. "I really am, Darryl. If it were up to me, you
could've stayed. But it wasn't my house."

"Of course not. I'm not here
to bicker about that, Tyler. I'll always hold that against you. Know that. I'm
here to tell you everything before, and everything after. You know what day it
is?"

"I know it's getting close to
when your mother passed away."

"She didn't pass away,"
Darryl said. "She was killed. She was killed in a car accident caused by
my father. He killed my mother and got away with it because a stupid cop like
you didn't know any better."

"I'm sorry you feel that
way," Tyler said.

"Not a feeling. It's the truth.
He used to come home and hit her, Tyler. You know how some men would come home
and hug their wife. Kiss their wife. Maybe wash their hands of the days work
before doing so. Maybe not. I don't know. Anything I think could have been
right was nothing but a fantasy. My father used to come home and find a reason
to hit her. The house wasn't clean. Dinner wasn't ready. Dinner didn't smell
all that good. There was always a reason. And each time he hit her I'd jump at
him. She'd put her hand out and stop me but I always saw that look in his eyes.
Like he couldn't wait to get his chance at me. He did, Tyler, he did. He told
me to. Right after she died. He told me,
'Son, we're moving out of Ferry
Creek and then I'm going to beat your ass raw twice every goddamn day... once
because I can and twice for all the days I missed when your mother was
protecting you.'
That was my fate, Tyler. That's why I asked for your
help."

Tyler swallowed. Darryl showed no
emotion. Emotion had been swept away from his soul a long time ago. Throwing a
fist at another person's face. Touching a woman. Drinking from a bottle. Those
were his emotions.

"Christ, Darryl," Tyler
said. "I knew things were bad. I knew your old man was an asshole..."

"That's putting it lightly,"
Darryl said. "The second my mother was dead I knew my life would be next.
He wanted out of everything he created."

"How did he kill your mother?
I mean, she was in an accident."

"He caused the accident,"
Darryl said. "I can prove it, but none of it matters now. I can't go back
in time. I can only move forward. The memories kill me, Tyler. I normally spend
all this time caught up in something. Or someone."

"Like Jess?"

"Like Jess. But she's with someone
else now. Her interest is Bobby

s
brother

s money."

"I doubt it's because of
money," Tyler said.

"Sure thing."

"So what do you want from
me?" Tyler asked. "You want me to apologize for everything? I will.
I'm sorry for the decision my parents made. I'm sorry for the decision your
father made."

"I just wanted to tell you
everything," Darryl said. "So you get it. Do you get it?"

"I get it," Tyler said.
"And what I'm about to say is going to piss you off. You need to move
forward, Darryl. I know you came back through town because of your aunt. And
I'm sorry about your accident that kept you here. You've been healed for a
while and you could have sold this place and been back on the road. You could
have found your old crew, or whatever they're called, and got right back to
your old life. You stayed. Right here. Why?"

"If I left Ferry Creek again,
I would never come back. I'd end up dead."

"So you are capable of making
good decisions," Tyler said. "Make some more. Get help, Darryl. Talk
to someone. Stop drinking yourself to death."

"Not this week," Darryl
said and laughed. "Or month. Or year

"

Tyler stood from the chair and
pointed to Darryl. "You've told me your story. I'm sorry for that. You
can't go around town trying to bring everyone else down."

"How long can you stand like
that?" Darryl asked.

"Like what?"

"Hovered over your chair. How
long?"

"I don't know, why?"

"I could do it for thirty
minutes. Want to know how?"

"How?"

"I knocked a chair over once.
By accident. My father made me stand over the chair, squatting, for thirty
minutes. If my ass touched the seat, he'd hit me with his belt. You learn
faster that way. He told me that."

"Again, I am sorry, Darryl.
There's nothing I can do or say to change a thing that happened to you. I can
only offer my friendship right now, I guess. If you need me, call me. If you
need a ride when you're drinking, call me. Don't do anything stupid."

Tyler backed away and left the
house.

Darryl thought about everything
Tyler had said. It didn't mean a thing. It didn't help the pain inside him, so
he walked to the kitchen and poured another cup of black coffee and then opened
the top cabinet. He found a small bottle of brandy and twisted the cap off.

 

Tyler thought about Darryl the
entire ride to The Pot Diner. He knew Darryl had a terrible past. He knew
Darryl's mother died. He knew Darryl's father tore him from Ferry Creek and
made sure his life was hell. But Tyler didn't know the extent. Now, he wished
Darryl wouldn't have said a thing. To imagine what it must have been like for
Darryl really hurt Tyler. It made his normal life seem too good. No wonder
Darryl held such resentment. No wonder he caused hell in Ferry Creek. He wanted
to share his pain with the town.

He would keep his eye on Darryl as
long as he needed. Being a teenager, Tyler wasn't able to make the big
decisions to help Darryl. Now, as an adult and a cop, Tyler would make sure his
hand was always available if Darryl needed to be helped back up.

Arriving at the diner, Tyler's mood
was shot. He felt drained and tired. The second he opened the door though it
made him smile. The locals were having the same old conversations. Jess and
Peggie were working and Bobby was talking with the men at the counter. But it
was another sight that caught Tyler's attention and brightened his day right
up.

Katey
.

She sat at a table in the corner of
the diner. She looked beautiful staring out the window with a pen tapping
against her lips. She had a notebook in front of her and a whole bunch of
papers.

Tyler walked up to the table with
care and noticed an empty mug on the table.

"Hey stranger," Tyler
said. "Am I interrupting?"

Katey looked up at Tyler and
smiled. "Not at all. Just thinking. I've written myself into a
corner."

"Literally," Tyler said.

He laughed and Katey kept her
smile. Tyler was nervous as hell standing there.

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