Page 111 of Rocky Mountain Devil

Jesse gave her shoulder a final pat before peering into her face. “You okay to drive?”

She nodded. “Call me,” she insisted, preparing to head home for before hitting the library.

Only once she was in the car and about to make the turn south back into town, she changed her mind, manoeuvering carefully down the snow-covered gravel road toward the Angel homestead. She wasn’t sure what she’d find, but on the off-chance she could do some good, she made the slow trip.

The snow in the driveway to the old house was well packed down for the time of day, a couple of extra vehicles parked by the back door.

She felt a little foolish as she pulled into a space next to them, but the outdoor light was on, and people were visible through the window, moving in the light of the kitchen.

Laurel made her way to the back door, wrapping her arms around herself as she waited in the cold. The door opened, and the matriarch of the Six Pack Colemans, Marion, stood gaping at her for a second before gesturing her in.

“Laurel Sitko? What on earth?”

She peeked around the woman, wishing words of comfort had magically escaped her instead of the tongue-tied nothing she offered instead. “I heard.”

As she spoke, Dana Coleman rose from where she’d been sitting by the kitchen table, sorrow in her eyes. “Oh, child. What’re you doing here at this hour?”

Only she opened her arms, and Laurel stepped forward to embrace the older woman, offering the only comfort she had to give.

She hadn’t liked Ben very much, for a lot of different reasons, but Dana still had to be hurting. This wasn’t about Ben anymore; it was about those left behind.

Maybe Laurel didn’t have the right words to say. Maybe she didn’t have a good explanation for why she already knew Ben was gone without admitting she’d spent the night in Rafe’s bed, albeit without him.

And maybe her being there was all wrong… But as she held on to Dana Coleman, it seemed as if this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

The whole time, though, one question rang in her mind like a haunting echo.

Where was Rafe?

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rafe felt as if he’d been taken out behind the barn and beaten black and blue.

His head ached from the hangover rocking him. He swore his back was bent double from crashing on the hay bales in the rustic shelter with the sleeping bag from his truck as a lousy blanket. His eyes itched, his fingers were freezing, and his mouth tasted like ass.

Hell, if he had to make a list, it would be shorter to say what didn’t hurt than what did.

He swung his legs toward the ground and sat up, closing his eyes as the building spun.

The nearly empty whiskey bottle taunted him from where it lay one hay bale over.

The anger and frustration he’d felt the night before had peaked at some point, and he’d decided he should go back and actually tell his dad to shape up or ship out. Fortunately by that time he’d been too drunk to find his keys.

Keys.Shit.

Rafe patted his pockets, momentarily reminded of his cousin Matt, but the slapstick-routine didn’t seem as funny this time around.

Not much seemed funny, between his dad being a stupid jerk and the fact Rafe knew that by running off and getting drunk he’d acted even stupider.

He was an idiot.

He’d sworn long ago to never do things just because he’d been provoked, and what had he gone and done? Lost his temper and then lost his goddamn mind.

Rafe grabbed his phone, certain by now he must have a ton of angry messages from his brother. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy or sad the battery was dead. Just meant the shit he was in would be delivered face to face.

The only good thing was that Laurel didn’t know how he’d screwed up. After all the times she’d told him to ignore Ben—she’d be so disappointed.

He stumbled to his truck, cranking the heater to high and letting it warm up enough he could feel his feet on the pedals before driving straight to Gabe’s. Might as well get the punishment over and done with—since he damn well deserved it.