Law leaned against the table. “Nobody’s saying it’s your fault. We all get why you did what you did. But something broke in her. She’s not the same girl who used to light up the room.”
Jaxon stared at the scarred wood of the table. He didn’t try to explain what he’d done. There was no point, and it wasn’t theirs to have.
So far, he’d said nothing about the General’s threat the day after his arrest. Or those quiet threats in his holding cell. The promise that, if Jaxon fought the charges, Tazzy would pay with her life. He didn’t tell any of them he’d taken the deal… let them convict him without protest… all to keep her safe. What was the point? What was done was done.
Eight years of silence had been the price he and Tazzy had both paid. The only difference was that she hadn’t known why she was paying it. He finished the beer in one long pull and stood. “I need to see her.”
Reid nodded once. “Go ahead. We’ll be here when you’re ready. I parked your bike out back.” He tossed Jaxon his keys. “It still runs. Winnie made sureof it.”
God, he’d missed his brothers. Jaxon left without another word.
Fifteen minutes later, he stood outside Books-N-Brews. It looked exactly the same. The brick exterior, black shutters on each side of large, plate-glass windows, the hand-painted sign above the door still read “Books-N-Brews” in curling letters.
The bell jingled when he pushed inside. The smell of fresh coffee and warm sugar hit him hard, just like it always had. For a second, memories of all the good times they shared there flooded through him.
Scanning the room, he spotted Georgia standing behind the counter. She’d grown up a lot since high school. Back then, all her clothes were pressed, and she barely ever said a word, except to Hutch. Now her hair was in one of those messy buns, and she was laughing her head off at something on her phone.
She called to another woman, a customer by the looks of her, and waved her closer. The woman had jet-black hair pulled up into tiny buns on either side of her head, and dangling earrings… wait, were those skeletons? They were black, just like everything else the woman was wearing. With a groan, she used the rag she held to wipe the counter on her way to Georgia.
Georgia waved two colorful pamphlets in front of the woman’s face. A face he still couldn’t see because her back was turned to him. His ears must be playing tricks on him. He thought he heard words like wingsuit and mountain ridges and vertical freefall. Did Hutch know she talked about shit like that?
Jaxon looked around the small shop again. The person he needed to see wasn’t there. He moved to the counter, sure that Georgia would know where Tazzy was. They were best friends, or at least, they used to be.
Georgia looked up, her eyes widening. “Jaxon?”
The other woman stiffened before turning to face him. Jaxon’s smile froze on his face. Holy fuck. The woman in black was Tazzy. He made a mental note to tell his brothers thatchangedwasn’t a strong enough word for what his Little girl had done.
Heavy black eyeliner outlined her eyes. Pale foundation made herskin almost see-through. Dark red lipstick. Her black T-shirt read “Broken Hearts Club Founder” in bold white letters.
The open, sunny girl he remembered, his little sprite, had vanished behind sharp edges. She’d lost weight. And how the hell was she walking around in those three-inch Frankenstein shoes?
Tazzy froze. The color drained from her face. At least, he thought it had, but it was hard to tell with the porcelain makeup she wore.
He forced his voice to stay steady. “Hi, ladies. I’m looking for one of the April Fools’ Specials.” Spouting out the first one he saw, he said, “I’d like the Chunky Monkey Banana Pudding Latte.”
What in all the fires of hell had just come out of his mouth?
Vivi came out of the back room, wiping her hands on her apron. Wearing a cardigan just like he remembered, he felt relieved that at least Vivi hadn’t changed at all. She still looked like everyone in town’s grandmother.
She approached the bar, looking at Jaxon as calm and relaxed, like she’d just seen him the day before instead of eight years ago. “Jaxon, good to see you again.”
Jaxon nodded.
Patting Tazzy’s hand, she said, “I’ll make it, sweet girl.”
Apparently, she still acted like everyone’s grandmother, too. Thank God that hadn’t changed.
Georgia started to move. “That’s okay, Vivi. I’ve got?—”
“I can do it,” Tazzy said. Her voice was flat, determined. Like he was any stranger who’d walked in off the street, and she could damn well serve him as well as anyone.
Walking behind the counter, her hands betrayed her. They shook as she scooped ice into the blender carafe. She poured in the cold brew concentrate, added the banana syrup, dropped in a generous dollop of banana pudding, and topped it off with a generous splash of whole milk. She blended it on high until it was thick and smooth, the motor’s roar drowning out any possibility of conversation for a few blessed seconds.
Pouring the pale, creamy mixture into a large plastic cup, she crowned it with a tall swirl of whipped cream and finished with alight dusting of cinnamon and a sprinkle of crushed vanilla wafers for crunch. The April Fools’ Frappe sat there looking innocent, as if nothing had changed.
It was the same care she showed in whatever she did. But it was a different woman doing it.
She slid the cup across the counter. Jaxon reached for it, his eyes still fixated on her black-red lips and the skeletons dancing around her ears. Was she dressed like that as an April Fool's joke?