Fisher's Light (Page 19)

“Tell me you still feel it,” I beg softly, moving my face closer to hers, focusing on her lips, already able to taste their sweetness on my tongue and their wet warmth against my own.

“FISHER! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE! IT’S YOUR TURN!”

Bobby’s shout from across the room has Lucy jumping away from me guiltily, her eyes flying around the room to make sure no one saw us.

Of course, every eye in the place is on the two of us, standing in the middle of the damn bar. I didn’t think about them, I didn’t care about them, I only cared about touching my girl, getting close to Lucy and reminding her that I’m still here.

“I…I have to go…I have…” Lucy cuts herself off mid-mumble, turns and walks quickly out of the bar without a look back.

Running my hand down my face, I blow out a frustrated breath before turning around and walking over to Bobby and the guys.

“Nice timing, dick head,” I admonish him, punching him in the arm.

“Hey, I was helping you out. Did you really want all of Fisher’s Island watching you kiss her for the first time in a year? That’s just depressing. And here I thought you had moves,” he tells me with a sad shake of his head.

He’s right, and I hate that our first encounter had to happen in a public place, but it was probably for the best that I wasn’t able to go through with that kiss. If we would have been somewhere alone, there’s no telling what the hell I would have done. I’ve gone more than a year without her too many times to count since we’ve been together, but never once was she not there waiting for me when I came home so I could sink myself into her and forget what I’d done when I was away. It bruises my pride and hurts my heart that she wasn’t waiting this time, but I deserve her brush off and more. I want her to scream and shout at me and call me every name she can think of. I want her to remind me of every shitty thing I said and did to her so I can make it right and take it all back. I’m still a sick fuck, but only when it comes to her. I need to do this the right way for once. I can’t let my needs and my fucking dick lead the way and screw this all up before it even begins. I’m going to remind her why we’re perfect for each other. I’m going to show her that there’s no one else on this earth that can love her like I can.

“I’ll give you this, though. Stanford definitely isn’t getting any tonight. Nice cock-blocking moves, my friend,” Bobby says with a laugh as he holds his fist up for me to bump. “Let’s get back to these darts so you can tell me what your plan is for getting her back. I seriously hope it’s better than the shit show you just put on for all of us.”

Before heading over to the dartboards, I take one last look at the door Lucy left through. As much as I wasn’t looking forward to coming back to this island and all of the judgy looks I’d get from everyone here, it’s the best place for me to be. It’s where Lucy and I began, and I’ll be damned if it’s where we’ll end.

Chapter 9

Lucy

April 30, 2014

He’s been gone from the island for three weeks and one day. I know he’s gone only because everyone on the island got a front row seat of his breakdown after I walked into Barney’s and had to see him with Melanie, and that’s all they’ve been talking about since. They saw him trash businesses on Main Street, get into fights with people he’s known all his life and then witnessed Bobby drag him to the ferry and take him off the island. He hasn’t been back since.

Bobby has stopped by to check up on me a few times, and as much as I want to ask where he is or what he’s doing, I won’t let myself do it. It’s bad enough that I spend every second going over our last words to each other, wondering if I could have said or done something differently to get a better outcome, but at this point it doesn’t even matter. I saw the truth of his words with my own two eyes. I don’t want to know where he is. If I knew, I might be tempted to hunt him down¸ ask him how he could have done what he did with Melanie Sanders, of all people, lash out at him and hurt him like he hurt me. I’m not that person. I’m not the kind of woman who screams and shouts and makes a scene. He kicked me when I was down and I know better than to try and stand up again right now. I don’t know where he is and I don’t care.

There are rumors floating around that, even though he was honorably discharged with a Purple Heart for an injury he sustained on his last tour, the Marines called him back to active duty, that he met someone else and went to live on the mainland, that he actually had an entire other family in another town and he finally went to be with them, and that he checked himself into rehab. Every day there’s a new, outrageous rumor and I try not to listen, but it’s hard when everywhere you go, everyone is talking about what happened that night. He’d been drinking all morning when we got into it in the bedroom, and Lord only knows how much more he consumed after he left me. I can’t imagine him doing something so destructive and out of control, but the proof is all around me. The devastation Fisher wrought could be seen in everything from the boarded up front window of the Lobster Bucket to the black eye Randy Miller, the security guard at Fisher’s Bank and Trust, sported for over a week.

I’ve tried so hard to continue hating him as much as I did the day he said all of those nasty things to me and I saw him with Melanie, but my brain and my heart are in an epic battle of wills. I know I should hate him. He broke my heart and said things he knew would tear me in half, but how do you turn your back on all the years you’ve spent loving someone, growing with him and building a life together? It wasn’t all bad. Actually, it was rarely bad; only when he returned from a tour were things a little dicey. I had to walk on eggshells the first few months he was home, but I was willing to do all of that and more to make sure Fisher was happy.