Home to Whiskey Creek (Whiskey Creek #4)(57)
Author: Brenda Novak

“What are my other choices?” He was getting upset, starting to shout. “What would you rather I do? Hate myself forever because you’ve decided to feel sorry for yourself indefinitely?”

She shook her head in disgust. “You’re a real prick. You know that?”

“There was no damage done.”

No damage? She wasn’t sure he could’ve said anything that would make her angrier. “You and your buddies held me down while you took turns climbing on top of me! Raping me! You think that didn’t hurt?”

He grimaced as if she’d just presented him with a mental picture he didn’t want to see. “It wasn’t really like that. And if you say it was, I’ll claim you came on to me, that we had sex because you wanted it.”

“You’d say I wanted all five of you—even though I was a virgin and only sixteen? You really think you can sell that?”

“I have more friends in this town than you do.”

“Congratulations. You’ve just set a new standard for despicable.”

With a curse, he pivoted to go but then turned back. “Come on, I was hoping we could end this in a…a truce, at least. Agree to be polite to each other, if not friends.”

“You’re delusional if you think I’ll ever spare you a kind thought. Get out of here and quit leaving notes on my car.”

“I’m not leaving you any notes. And you did want us,” he said. “You followed us around like a whipped puppy our entire senior year.”

She lowered her voice. “Because I thought you were something special. Imagine my surprise when I realized you weren’t.”

He reared back, looking stung. She got the impression he was egotistical enough to want her to think well of him despite what he’d done. As the football coach, he was a notable figure in Whiskey Creek. He liked the attention and esteem his job gave him, and had obviously bought into the illusion that he was an important individual.

“It was fifteen years ago! We had sex. So what? Look at you. You’re fine. Beautiful.”

“No, don’t look at me. Don’t speak to me. Don’t speak of me and don’t victimize anyone else or—”

“Victimize anyone else?” He stared up at the ceiling as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “God, you make it sound like I’m some sort of predator. I’m a husband and a father. I’m a coach, for crying out loud. Cody was the one.”

She raised her chin for emphasis. “Don’t shift the blame to Cody. You gang-raped a girl the night you graduated from high school, and that girl happened to be me. Maybe it’s time you owned it.”

With another curse, he pressed three fingers to his forehead. “So what does that mean? That you’re going to tell? That you’re just waiting for the right moment to bring out your old panties stained with our se**n?”

She wished she’d kept that kind of evidence. But she’d gotten rid of her clothes—at the first opportunity— by throwing them into the Dumpster behind Just Like Mom’s. She’d been too afraid that what was on them would tie her to Cody. “Just keep your distance,” she said, “and don’t come back in here.”

“I can’t eat at Just Like Mom’s?” He acted appalled, as though he had just as much right to Gran’s restaurant as she did.

“If you do, I’ll…I’ll put something bad in your food.” She knew she sounded juvenile, but she didn’t care.

“It’s football season. And that’s nasty!”

She doubted she could ever go through with that threat, but it felt great to have a little power. “Your assistant coach can come in with the team on Mondays. Not you. And don’t come anywhere near my house, either.”

He threw up his hands. “Fine! What the hell am I worried about? It won’t do you any good even if you do talk. Consensual sex produces se**n, too.”

“You’re such a selfish liar!”

“I should let you destroy my life instead? Cost me my wife and kids? My job? A man has a right to defend those things!”

“If what you’ve built in the past fifteen years is at risk, it’s because of your actions, not mine. Just leave me alone, like I said, and you can continue living your lie, as long as the people around you think you’re worth it.”

His face bloomed red. “I came in here to make amends. It didn’t have to go this way,” he began, but the bell over the door rang yet again, signaling the entrance of someone else, and that silenced him.

Startled that anyone would come in after hours, Addy angled her head to see around Kevin. Thriller writer Ted Dixon stood next to the row of high chairs near the entrance.

“Am I interrupting?”

Addy drew a deep, calming breath. “No. Come sit down. We’re technically closed, but, um, I can make you a bite to eat if you’d like.” The kitchen had been cleaned, but if it meant that Kevin would leave, she’d clean it again.

Kevin glanced between them. “Right, uh—” he waved at the dishes Noah had left “—thanks for dinner. It was great.”

She said nothing. She knew she should do what she could to help him pretend. No doubt Ted could feel the negative energy in the room. But she didn’t have the necessary reserves.

Ted waited until Kevin had put her phone on the table and walked out before addressing her again. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” She started clearing Noah’s table so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I heard some shouting when I was coming in.”

“Coach Colbert wasn’t happy with his meat loaf.”

“Didn’t he just say it was great?”

She motioned to one of the other tables. “Would over there be okay? I’ll get you a menu.”

As he watched her slide her phone into her own pocket, she wondered what he’d made of Kevin’s having had it.

“I didn’t come to eat, Addy. I saw your car, so I stopped in. Kevin’s wasn’t in the lot, which is why I was surprised to find him here.”

Of course Kevin wouldn’t park in the lot, not after hours when she was the only one here. That didn’t come as a revelation, but the part where Ted said he’d stopped in because he saw her car did.

“Do you need some catering for a book signing or…”

He smiled at her guess. “Not this time. I wanted to invite you to a Halloween party tomorrow night. It won’t be anything big. I decided, last minute, to have a few friends over and thought you might like to join us.”