Gone (Deadly Secrets #2)(36)
The light in her apartment dimmed as dusk settled in. Unable to sit anymore, she pushed away from her laptop on the dining room table and moved into the kitchen to grab a Perrier from the fridge.
The bottle hissed as she opened it, but when she took a sip, the sparkling water did little to calm her frazzled nerves. Her gaze skipped over the apartment, and she remembered how tense Alec had been there earlier in the day.
Had he been remembering living there? She’d considered moving a dozen times after he’d left, but she’d never been able to force herself to go. She’d kept the apartment pretty much the same on purpose, because when Emma finally came home, she wanted her daughter in familiar surroundings. But she could see how that would rattle a man. Knew it was part of the reason Alec had been so off even before they’d visited the Willig woman. Especially a man who carried as much guilt as Alec did. But . . . couldn’t he see this was the only place she could be? Couldn’t he, for once, think about someone other than himself? He wasn’t the only one who’d suffered these last few years, dammit.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered what she would do if Emma never came home. Wondered what she’d do if the police ever showed up at her door to tell her they’d found Emma’s bod—
No. She wasn’t going there. Couldn’t. Recapping the bottle, she set it on the counter and moved for her coat. She needed to get out of this apartment, needed to get out of her head for a few hours. When her stomach rumbled, she remembered that she’d barely eaten today and decided she’d grab dinner out. After shoving her phone and credit card into the inside pocket of her coat, she grabbed her keys and headed for the door, ignoring the way her fingers shook and her heart raced against her ribs.
The temperature had warmed up enough so the snow had all melted, and a cool drizzle forced her to pull up her hood as she moved down the sidewalk. Oregon winters were like that, though. Frigid one minute, wet and dreary the next. As it was just after five, the sidewalks were busy with people trying to get home. Raegan moved around a young couple holding hands and told herself she’d feel better after a drink and some food. Alec would be fine too. He was a grown man, after all. He made his own decisions. She had to stop worrying about him when he clearly didn’t want her concern.
She pushed the pub doors open three blocks down and shook the rain from her hood as she stepped inside. The Irish bar had opened a few months ago, and she passed it every day on her way to work, but she’d yet to try it out. Tonight seemed like the perfect time. Bypassing the tables, she found a spot at the bar and pulled her coat off to drape over the back of her barstool.
“What can I get you?” the female bartender asked, a twentysomething attractive brunette with long hair pulled back in a messy tail.
Raegan glanced over the bottles on the shelves behind her, then finally decided to go for a Guinness. “I’ll have a dirty apple.”
“You got it. Want a menu?”
“Sure.”
The bartender went about filling Raegan’s pint glass with Guinness and cider, then set the drink in front of her. “Wave me down when you know what you want to eat.”
“Thanks.” Lifting her drink, Raegan took a sip and closed her eyes as the bitter and sweet tastes rushed over her tongue. Unlike Alec, she’d never been one for hard liquor, but she could see how a person could grow addicted to this. It had a calming effect, even just one sip, and hinted it could help you escape from the hell that was your reality if you just kept on drinking.
Raegan’s eyes opened, and she stared at the wall of bottles across from her as she thought of Alec. That was why he’d started drinking as a kid. To escape the nightmare of his childhood. He’d told her multiple times that his biological father had been an alcoholic, that alcohol had always been available in his trailer. She glanced down at her glass, remembering the way Alec had rarely drank when they were together and how after they’d lost Emma he’d turned to the bottle instead of to her. He’d been reverting back to what he’d done as a kid. What was comfortable. What was easy. Opening up to her, dealing with the pain of their reality, had definitely not been easy.
A new sense of appreciation for what he’d lived through as a child trickled through her. And when she remembered how bad things had been when they’d separated and how often he’d been drinking then, another wave of awe swept through her over the fact he’d pulled himself out of that pit.
She set her glass down. Pulled her cell from her coat pocket and stared at the screen. She wanted to text him. Wanted to make sure he was okay, but she didn’t want to push because she knew it would just send him running in the other direction. A frown pulled at her lips when she remembered the way he’d sped off today. Apparently, she didn’t even need to push to send him running. One bad day had done that without even a nudge from her.
Sighing, she lifted her drink again and took a long swallow. That was the frustrating thing about Alec McClane. He was unpredictable in a million different ways. When they’d first met, when they’d been dating—even when they’d first been married—she’d loved that about him. Now all it did was twist her heart into knots because she didn’t have a clue how to reach him.
A young couple sidled up next to her at the bar, chatting and laughing and touching each other at every opportunity. She listened to their banter for a few minutes, but when the man leaned in and kissed the woman, Raegan knew she was done for the night. The drink wasn’t making her feel any better, and her appetite was long gone. Pulling a ten from her pocket, she left it on the bar next to her half-empty glass and reached for her coat. She’d grab a sandwich from the deli around the corner and go back to her apartment. If she was lucky, she’d find a movie to veg out to on the couch. If she wasn’t lucky . . . well, then it would just be like every other night, and she’d lie awake wondering where Alec was and what he was doing.