Chapter 2

Sean

Lugging another crate of beer into the basement storeroom, I get irrationally angry at an empty box that has the nerve to be exactly where I want to stack these.

“What did that box ever do to you?” John comments, as I stomp on it in frustration, before kicking the flattened cardboard across the room. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything else as I turn and stomp back up the stairs. The steam coming from my ears is all the warning he needs to keep his thoughts to himself.

In the quiet of the dark bar, I rest my forearms on the counter and hang my head between my arms, trying to calm down. I rarely lose my temper. Or should I say, I used to rarely lose my temper.

It’s happening far too frequently lately. What kind of grown man has a tantrum over a misplaced box, for crying out loud?

The ringing of my phone worsens my mood further. I’m not in the mood to speak to anyone right now. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the offending device, stunned when I see the last name I expected to see flashing up on the screen.

Sam.

Instantly, my mind plays me a reel of the week we spent together. Joy and pain are tangled up with those memories in equal measure. Sam is a friend of Hayley’s, the local pack’s Luna. When she came to Grey Ridge for Hayley’s hen, the girls had partied hard here in my bar. I couldn’t take my eyes off her all night. Then, when she nearly died in a fire at the guesthouse, they were staying in later that night; I was afraid to take my eyes off her for a whole other reason. To get her out alive, Marcus, the local sheriff, dropped her from a first-floor window straight into my arms. I still have nightmares where I don’t catch her.

I scrub my hand down over my jaw as I stare at the phone, frozen to the spot. This woman destroyed me. My recent bad form is undoubtedly a result of her bolting in the middle of the night from my bed. While she recovered, I never left her side. I couldn’t have if I tried. She needed me, seemingly reluctant to be apart from me, and I was only too glad to stay by her side, falling further for her every day.

Putting the phone on silent, I toss it down beside the sink. As I walk away, I drag in a deep breath to ease the ache I feel in my chest. The buzzing eventually stops, and I pause, unsure whether I’m relieved or disappointed.

In the weeks after she left, I hoped every day that she would call, but she never did. Once she decided she was going back to her old life, that what I had to offer her wasn’t enough. She never even bothered to say goodbye, sneaking out like a coward. My fury at being treated like nothing but a good time rises again, and I force my feet to keep moving toward the back of the bar where my small office is.

A loud buzzing tells me the phone has started again, but I choose to ignore it, trying to focus on the stack of receipts I need to sort through today. But I’m kidding myself. My sensitive ears are completely focused on the vibrating phone, and I grit my teeth in annoyance at the control she still has over me. I should be over this. She wasn’t interested in anything serious. It was all just a bit of fun for her while she was stuck in town. No big deal.

Except I know it meant more than that to her. We shared something special that week. I know she felt it too. Maybe that’s what’s worse, that I know she felt the same connection, but she threw it away anyway.

“Boss?” John raps on the door with his knuckle before pushing his way in, my phone in his outstretched hand. He hands it to me, completely oblivious to the war going on inside my brain as I look at her name glowing on the front of my screen.

Swallowing down my pride, I nod in thanks and shoo him out the door as I swipe to answer it. Tipping my head back, I stare at the ceiling as I brace myself to hear her voice. I’m not sure if it’s more annoying that she is calling out of the blue after complete radio silence for months, or that she knows I’ll answer it.

“What do you want?” I snap, cradling the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I rub my sweaty palms on the front of my thighs. Sam isn’t even here in person, and I’m as nervous as a teenage boy. It’s infuriating.

“Em, hello? Is this Sean?” A timid voice asks, and instantly my brain scrambles to catch up. Why does someone else have Sam’s phone?

“Yes, it’s Sean. Who’s this? Where’s Sam? Is she hurt?” I demand, my mind immediately going to thoughts of an accident.

“It’s Tara, Sam’s friend. She’s not hurt. But she doesn’t know that I’m calling you,” the voice whispers, and I hear a door sliding shut in the background. Tara’s voice is muffled, like she has her hand around her mouth to stop the sound from traveling.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be,” I respond seriously, frowning as I try to work out what this Tara person wants.

“I didn’t have a choice. She needs help, and I don’t know who else to call.” The voice on the other end quivers. I stay silent, my heart hammering in my chest as I absorb what she’s said and the real worry I can hear.

“Why does she need help? What happened?” I might not love the way she treated me, but Sam is a good person. The idea of her being in some kind of trouble twists my insides. After what she went through, she doesn’t need any more drama.

“The fire, that’s what happened. She’s a complete mess, even though she won’t admit it. She doesn’t sleep, she doesn’t eat. I’m so worried about her.”

“I think you’re asking the wrong person. She wants nothing to do with me.” I grit my teeth as I say those words out loud. I’ve struggled to accept it, but the agonising truth is that she cut me out of her life. Even if she’s not doing so well, she hasn’t reached out to me herself. Much as it kills me, I should respect that.

A sardonic snort down the line stops my train of thought.

“I think I have exactly the right person. I don’t know what happened between you, but it’s your name she calls in her sleep Sean. Plus, I’m desperate,” she pleads.

All the walls that I’ve built up over the last few months to protect myself come crumbling down. The idea of her pining for me seems remote, but I was fully prepared to turn my life upside down for her at one stage. I remember those nights in the hospital when she would call my name when she woke up afraid. That she still does the same, but I’m not there to comfort her, is like a knife to the heart.

“Sam’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. What do you expect me to do?”

“Just come and see her with your own eyes. She needs to speak to someone about what happened. Maybe you can convince her.” Tara sounds hopeful, or maybe delusional.

“You want me to come all the way there to talk the most stubborn woman in the world into therapy she doesn’t want?” I clarify, amused at the thought of convincing Sam to do anything she doesn’t want to. It’s laughable.

“Exactly,” Tara answers defiantly. She’s got her plan, and she’s sticking to it.

I groan as I rub a hand across my stubbled jaw. Damn it. Now that I know, I can’t ignore this. I need to see for myself. Even if it’s just as friends, I have to make sure she’s ok. Maybe it’ll help me move on to see her happy and healthy.

“Shit, fine. Send me her address. I’ll come.”

“Oh, thank you, Sean.”

“Don’t thank me yet. She probably won’t even speak to me. And she’s going to murder you when she finds out you called me.”