Page 83 of Full Out Fiend

Pushing off my stool, I give him a dismissive nod. “Good talk.” I look behind the bar, hoping to make eye contact with Jake. Maybe I can duck into his office for a few minutes, call a ride, and sneak out the back.

I don’t spot him right away, though, and Anwar’s making his way over to me with another round of shots.

“Just wanted to warn you,” Anthony threatens, stepping in front of me and blocking the only clear path out of the overly crowded bar. He leans in close enough that I can smell his stale, putrid beer breath.

“I know who you are,” he taunts. “I know what you’ve done. Got the proof, too. I’m biding my time—but she’ll know soon enough.”

The actual fuck?

I pitch back and cock one eyebrow dismissively, which only agitates him more.

He clenches his jaw, along with his fists. “You think people in this town don’t talk? That you could keep your dirty little secrets forever?”

Every reasonable part of my brain warns me not to engage. He’s goading me. And he’s doing a pretty piss-poor job of it, if I’m honest. I don’t give two shits about what this guy thinks he knows about me. But I can’t deny the prickle of frustration running through me at his vague accusations. I’ve done plenty of shitty things in my life. He’ll have to get a whole lot more specific if he wants me to have any clue what he’s threatening me with.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” I shrug, then shift to the side, fully prepared to step around him and head to the back.

“Just wait until Daphne finds out abouther,” he yells in an attempt to be heard over the crowd. “Just wait until she knows the real kind of man you are.”

Her.

Her?

My mind flashes to a blond-haired girl with kind green eyes—to the way she’d look at me in a crowd and the way she’d lean on me when she was tired. I can’t help but picture the woman I once thought I was in love with.

Fuck.

I made so many stupid, selfish, ridiculous mistakes where Tori was concerned. There’s a lot I regret—but nothing that I can’t explain.

Unless…

I turn back to search Anthony’s face, only to find his gaze set on me with that knowing smirk still firmly in place. Either this guy’s a helluva drama king, or he really thinks he has something on me.

There’s no way he could know about that night.Idon’t even know much about that night.

I used to revel in not knowing. It was easier to play the victim and claim I didn’t remember what went down. And although I’ll get little bursts of retrospect from time to time, all I really recall are the emotions that consumed me leading up to the incident and how I felt the next day.

I hate who I was back then. I shudder to think about having to answer for the blanks in my memory from that night. But if someone else knows something… If this jackass could shine a light on the darkest version of the person I once was… I have no doubt he’ll use it against me.

There isn’t a single conscious action I couldn’t explain to Daphne.

But parts of me I don’t remember have the potential to destroy us.

I clench my fists but calm my breathing and turn on my heel before I can react to his implications. He may think he has something on me. He may even be right.

But I won’t be blindsided by this asshole. I’m not as powerless in this situation as I once claimed to be. There’s someone I need to talk to if I’m ever going to make sense of this and form some sort of defense. And that man’s not anywhere near this bar tonight.

Chapter 45

Fielding

Ishouldhavegoneto my own damn room.

But it’s across the hall from where Daphne and Serena are sleeping tonight, and I didn’t want our voices to carry.

There’s no place but the floor to sit. The walls are painted, and the dresser, crib, and changing table are ready to go. We’re still waiting on the rocking chair to arrive because Daphne wanted to special order it, and I want to give her everything she wants.

I let my head loll against the light lavender wall as I wait for the FaceTime call to connect.