The bartender sloshes down the drinks.
Seth leans in. “Besides, I’d kill him if he ever touched anyone else. Not like I’d have to, though. Sal’s it for him. She’s his fuckin’ church, Lace.”
Silence.
Then—
“Ugh, I know,” Lacey blurts, surprising Seth. “You’re right. They’re perfect for each other. It’s disgusting.”
At the confession, she buries her face in her hands. She bows her head to the bar top and groans.
Sitting back, Seth stares at her, confused as hell. “Then why? Why are you busting my brother’s balls? You always liked Luke,” he adds softly. “Me, not so much.”
Lacey laughs, though it sounds more like a sob.
She removes her hands from her face.
Seth waits for her icy voice to cut him down. Instead, he’s stunned when Lacey utters a soft, “I’ve been horrible.”
As if in penance, she shoots back her whiskey. Too fast. Instantly, she erupts into harsh, ragged coughs that have Seth wincing.
He slides the tap water toward her. “I realize you hate my guts, but you can talk to me. What’s goin’ on with you? Why’re you actin’ like some uptight bitch?”
No reprimand at the insult. Her pained face goes slack. When she looks at Seth, he’s surprised to see tears in her eyes.
He shifts uncomfortably on the barstool. The sight of tears—of Lacey’s tears—has him panicking. If she cries, he’s done for.
“Because I’m mad, Seth.” Her lips tremble. “I was so mad at Luke. For everything, even though it didn’t matter, even if it wasn’t his fault. For taking my sister away when they got married. Not being there when she lost the baby. For that picture that ruined everything. She called me crying that night, Seth. Sobbing on the phone right before ...”
Lacey breaks off, shakes her head.
Seth’s stomach dips, and he closes his eyes. He knows what comes next. The car accident. Sal bleeding out in his arms, the shriek of the ambulance, trying to keep his sister-in-law’s blood in her body so he could save his brother’s life.
“Then the plane crash.”
Seth opens his eyes.
Lacey shudders. She hugs herself. “When Sal disappeared, I couldn’t handle it. I took my pain out on Luke. He wouldn’t declare her dead ... and I—I was so mad. I was so mad at him for not giving me that.”
An empty sadness enters her eyes. Endless.
He waits for her to go on.
“I know you don’t understand, but I had to have a funeral for her. I had to say goodbye. I never got that with my mom.”
Seth sighs, feeling like a grade-A asshole.
He never even thought about Lacey having a different way to cope with Sal’s death. She was Lacey’s mother for a long time. Her lifeline. Her best friend. Her protector.
He should have seen it. Luke shut down when Sal died. Lacey, wound tighter than a fucking top, exploded.
“I know Luke didn’t cheat,” Lacey says. “I know he’s not like our father. It was just easier to blame him, to pretend he was wrong, than face Sal being gone. Oh God,” she moans, thrashing her blond head. “I’ve been horrible.” The pleading look she gives Seth cracks open his heart. “If Sal knew what type of sister I’ve been. That I gave her a funeral. That I’ve been so cruel to Luke. She’ll never forgive me. She’ll think I’m awful.”
She hangs her head.
“You’re not awful, Lace. Confusin’ as fuck, yes, but not awful.” Seth reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. And for once in her life, she doesn’t pull away or bristle. “I get it. Sal will get it. That was a hard time. For all of us.”
Lacey, her eyes far away, fiddles with the end of her braid. A few strands of golden hair have fallen around her face, making her look softer, less ice bitch. He hasn’t seen her look this heartbroken and vulnerable. Not since the search for Sal.