Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
He grumbles.
“Dragon,” I say.
He opens one eye. “Yeah?”
“I have to run a quick errand. The dog has been fed and he’s been out. I won’t be gone too long.”
I expect him to ask me where I’m going. To my surprise, he doesn’t.
“Okay,” he says and closes his eyes again.
I grab my purse and phone and leave the hotel room. Teddy whimpers, and I lean down and pet him again. “I won’t be long. I promise.”
I know exactly where I’m going.
The idea came to me while I was in the shower.
It’s not my place, but I’m here. I’m a part of this, whether Dragon wants me to be or not.
I’m going to see his mother.
Stefania Locke. Or Christina Delaney. Whoever.
The address is still programmed in the GPS in my car, so it’s easy to get there. I drive through the neighborhood and stop at Mrs. Locke’s trailer.
It’s about eight a.m. Early, perhaps, if you don’t grow up on a ranch or don’t work for a living.
But she will talk to me.
What I want most in the world right now is to help her son. And I can only do that if I know the whole story.
I get out of the car, walk up the rickety steps, and knock on the door.
No one answers.
I knock again, louder this time.
And again, no answer.
I sigh.
I suppose it wasn’t meant to be.
I walk back to my car and get in. A memory edges into my mind.
A memory of my father, and of a lesson he taught me.
He drilled it into me my whole life, but it became especially apparent when he took me to this old dive bar on the outskirts of Grand Junction when I turned twenty-one.
Five years earlier…
I look around the dive. Scratched tables and vinyl barstools with rips in them.
“Uh…Dad?”
“Yes, Dee?”
“When you told me you were going to take me out for my first legal drink, I kind of had something else in mind.”
Dad laughs. “I’m sure you did. Your brothers said pretty much the same thing to me when I brought them here.”
“Dale and Donny never mentioned that to me,” I say.
“That’s because bringing them here was something personal between me and each of them.” He looks into my eyes, smiling at me. “Same as it is for you, Diana. This place means a lot to me.”
“I’m sure there must be a reason behind that,” I say.
“There is.” He signals to the bartender. “I’ll have a bourbon.” He turns to me. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
“I suppose he’s going to want to see my ID,” I say.
The barkeep shakes his head. “No need. Mr. Steel here wouldn’t bring you in if you were underage.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You know my dad?”
“Yeah. He comes in every now and then.” The bartender holds out his hand. “I’m Lonnie.”
“Hi, Lonnie. I’m Diana.”
He nods. “I know you are. I know your brothers too. I’m sure in a couple years, I’ll meet your sister.”
I turn to Dad. “You’re a regular here?”
“Lonnie’s been here for about eight years,” Dad says. “He was here when I brought Donny in. Hadn’t started when I brought in Dale, though.”
“Okay.”
“You haven’t told me what you’d like to drink,” Lonnie says to me.
I don’t drink a lot. I kind of lost the desire when I was drugged my freshman year of high school. But I don’t mind a glass of wine every now and then. “Do you have any red wine?”
Lonnie turns around and looks through his shelves of booze. “I think I’ve got a Merlot back here somewhere.”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
Dad leans in, lowering his voice. “I have to warn you, honey,” Dad says. “This won’t taste anything like your Uncle Ryan’s wines. And the bourbon I get won’t taste anything like Peach Street.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Then I guess I have to ask again, Dad. Why exactly are we here?”
Dad looks out onto the bar. “You may not believe this, Diana, but this little dive was my second home for a time after I turned twenty-one.”
“Really?” I wrinkle my forehead. “Why?”
His gaze darkens slightly. “Let’s just say I needed an escape. Somewhere where no one knew my name.”
“But Dad…”
I think of the old Cheers reruns Mom and Dad like to watch, where the characters hang out at a local bar where “everybody knows your name.” Seems weird that my dad was going for the opposite.
“What?”
“I don’t get it. Why?”
He frowns. “Sometimes it helps to get a different perspective, honey. Back then, this was a haven for the melancholy. For the outcasts.”
“But that wasn’t you, Dad.”
He exhales sharply through his nose. “Wasn’t it? Maybe it was at the time. Anyway, I later joined the military, as you know, and not too long after I came home, I met your mother.”
“Okay,” I say as Lonnie pushes a glass of red wine in front of me. It’s in a lowball glass, not a wine glass. Strange. “Thanks.” I take a sip. It’s…not good. But then Dad warned me.