As soon as Claire is next to me, Mason disappears. What’s more surprising is my overwhelming urge to follow him. I don’t, though. Instead, I turn to my friend, who is already grilling me with questions about Max’s first day. I answer her quickly, and head to the back, my eyes scanning all directions for Mason, wondering where he went.

“Okay, so what was that?” Claire says, changing her Dusty’s shirt and completely switching her line of questioning.

“What?” I pretend. This won’t last long—it never does. She doesn’t even speak, but rather puts one hand on her hip and narrows her eyes on me. I give in to her glare immediately.

“I…I don’t know,” I say, flopping forward, and putting my palms to my head. “I’m in trouble, Claire.”

“Yeah you are,” she says, clicking her locker shut and sitting next to me, reaching for Max’s backpack. “You sorta like him again…don’t you?”

Her tone isn’t teasing, which I appreciate. But I don’t want to answer her question. I don’t want to, because yeah, I sorta like him again. In fact, I more than sorta like him. And I barely remember what this feeling feels like, but I also sorta remember that it hurts.

“Hey, Avery?” Mason’s voice calls from the kitchen door. My heart speeds up the second I recognize it, and out of instinct I grip Claire’s hand.

“Yeah, just a second,” I say, standing and checking my shirt, making sure it’s tucked in completely. I brush back the fine hairs, adjust my headband, and get a reassuring smile from Claire that I look somewhat put together.

I try to keep my face normal—not smile too big, not chew my lip with nerves. The closer I get to Mason, though, the more uneasy I get. He’s scratching at his neck, and he seems unsure about something.

“Whatcha need?” I say, my stomach now completely twisted on itself.

“You, uh…you have someone here to see you,” he says. I don’t like the face he’s making, and even though I can’t read it, I can glean enough to tell that whatever—whoever—is waiting for me on the other side of this door is about to change the course of my day.

“Oooookayyyyy…” I say, looking over his shoulder and then back to his face, trying to get one more read. At first, I see nothing but an empty bar. Maybe it’s someone from the school, maybe Max had an issue and the principal stopped by—that’s okay, I can work with that. I knew there would be bumps along the way.

I scan both ends of the restaurant area. Nothing. For some reason, not seeing someone is making my worry intensify, and I’m starting to feel sick. I start to move to the main door when Barb arrives and opens it wide. She says, “Hello,” and I nod at her with a smile. But that smile lasts only a fraction of a second, because behind her, I catch a glimpse of my guest while the door is closing.

Adam. I haven’t seen him since the day he left—more than four years ago. I don’t know where he’s been, and I’ve told myself for the last couple of years that I don’t care. But right now, more than any urge I’ve ever felt, I want to run to him, slam him hard in the chest, and knock the life from him—just like he did to me.

Mason

I never liked Adam Price. Oh who the hell am I kidding—I never really gave two shits about him. But now…today…I f**king hate the man. He’s smug—he looked smug the second he pulled up in that giant black Chevy Tahoe with blinged-out rims. He had on these expensive sunglasses, and when he pulled them off his face, he actually looked around to make sure people were noticing him. Arrogant ass**le!

The only thing I can take comfort in right now is those few words I heard Ray whisper under his breath when he pulled up. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” he said. I may have disappointed Ray a time or two, but he’s never wanted to kill me.

I feel so goddamned helpless sitting here in the bar. Ray walked in the second Avery walked outside to talk to Adam. I could tell he wanted to stay with his daughter—have her back. But he also didn’t want to pry. He’s pacing still, moving from the small window by the front door, to the storeroom, and back again, all the while muttering a choice set of words.

Ray saw him first. He sent me in to fetch Avery, and told me he needed to keep Adam outside, away from Max. Before I left, I heard him lay into the man that was once his son-in-law. He didn’t touch him, but his fist was raised. Ray may be an old man, but that fist is experienced—before he used to hire bouncers, he used to take care of funny business at Dusty’s himself.