After All (Cape Harbor #1)(41)



The door opened, and in walked Monroe. Her eyes drifted over the patrons at the bar, almost as if she was looking for someone. Brooklyn stood and went to her. Monroe gasped and smiled softly.

“I want to apologize for my behavior in the store the other day. I was out of sorts and wasn’t expecting anyone to notice me. I was unkind to you, when you’ve been nothing but a dear friend to me.”

Monroe pulled Brooklyn into a hug. The women squeezed each other tightly, and when they parted, both had tears in their eyes. Brooklyn motioned toward the table. “Rennie’s here, if you’d like to join us.”

“I’d love that.”

“It’s almost as if the gang’s back together,” Monroe stated as she sat and looked around the table. “Jason will be here for the memorial, and I’m sure Mila will find her way back into town.”

“And Grady?” Brooklyn asked. She hadn’t meant to contribute to the conversation since she felt like she had nothing useful to add or say. “I haven’t seen him yet. Does he still operate Chamberwoods?”

“Wow, Carly doesn’t tell you much, does she?” Bowie smirked. He shook his head and brought his pint up to his mouth, only to pull it away before taking a sip. “Let me guess—you don’t talk about Cape Harbor.” He acted hostile toward Brooklyn but kept his thigh pressed to hers and angled his body toward her when he was speaking. If he hated her so much, why touch her? Why flirt? Why sit next to her? There was plenty of space where either of them could move, but he had chosen to be next to her, and it was starting to feel like torture. Even with his pent-up anger coming in spurts, she didn’t want him to move. She liked having him next to her, and that bothered her greatly.

“We don’t,” Brooklyn said sharply. “And before you or any of the rest of you go throwing stones, you should remind yourself of how many times you visited Austin’s mom. I, at least, spoke with her.” Although their communication was strictly mundane or regarding Brystol and nothing more, and for that, Brooklyn hated herself. She had let Austin down, even when it wasn’t her responsibility. He had made that perfectly clear.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry for my outburst. Since I came back, a lot of things have been brought to light.”

Graham reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Grady’s around. He’s not in the best of shape, and he pretty much lives in the past.”

“I’m so sorry.” Brooklyn gave him a sad smile as her heart broke. That day, the day Austin took his boat out when he shouldn’t have, had changed the lives of everyone around him.

The waitress finally brought out the appetizers they had ordered and a stack of plates. She returned quickly with a round of shots and beer chasers. Brooklyn’s stomach growled and filled with dread at the same time. She was starving and had always loved the pub food from the Whale Spout. Drinking, not so much. Drinking led to loose lips, and loose lips led to revelations that needed to be kept locked away . . . locked tightly away and buried at the bottom of the ocean.





FIFTEEN

Monroe stood behind Brooklyn mumbling something about the summer and how their plans were still going to happen. How they were going to have their bonfires on the beach; go rock jumping into the river; pack their tents and spend weekends deep in the forest, under the lush green trees, drinking beer and talking about their futures. Their plans. Plans that they made as a group. A group that existed with one less person. The person who everyone followed around because he was the leader of the pack, their mayor of sorts. Monroe pulled the hairbrush through Brooklyn’s thick mane of chocolate-colored hair, gathering pieces to pin into place. The sun added natural highlights, a mixture of brown, red, and gold strands, making Brooklyn a natural beauty. Over the years, many of her friends and even strangers asked her who colored her hair and which salon her stylist worked at, hoping to achieve the same look. When she would tell them that she was born this way, or that the sun did all the work, many wouldn’t believe her. Half the time Brooklyn didn’t believe it herself.

Brooklyn felt the barrette snap into place but couldn’t give it much thought after the initial push into her scalp. It didn’t hurt, at least not as much as she wanted it to. She was numb and in desperate need to feel pain. To feel something stronger than the constant ache she felt in her chest. Her heart didn’t exist as she remembered. She barely felt it beat, couldn’t hear the thumping it made when she lay in bed at night. Her chest ached, burning whenever she would lay her hand there.

Two words were said over the roar of rain, and everything changed for Brooklyn. She had never known what it was like to lose everything, to know your dreams were disappearing and there wasn’t a single thing that could be done to change it. With those two words, her whole life vanished, and all she was left with was regret.

Monroe fluttered around her like a busy bee, taking care of mundane things like making sure Brooklyn’s shoes were on, that the buttons on the back of her dress latched tightly, and that the hat that Monroe had purchased for her fit perfectly. Another jab to the scalp hadn’t brought enough pain to register in Brooklyn’s mind.

“There, all set.”

Brooklyn barely noticed Monroe standing behind her with her hands on her shoulders. She didn’t know what day it was, where they were going, or how they planned to get there. She knew nothing, but somehow Monroe understood and had been by Brooklyn’s side since the night everything happened.

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