"Then why's she here?" Rourke asked in his usual no-nonsense tone.

"Don’t be a dick, Owens," I warned, gaze flicking between my two best friends. "She's our friend."

"She's your friend," he corrected. "She ain't mine."

"Because you don’t want friends, Rourke Owens," Molly spat back. "You're only happy when you're mad at the world."

"You can leave now." His steel blue eyes flicked to Molly. "Seriously. I don’t want you here."

Molly's face turned a bright shade of red and I knew she was about two seconds away from bolting.

"What's your problem, Rourke?" Narrowing my eyes, I glared at the prickliest person I'd ever known. He was my best friend and that meant I would do almost anything for him, but I wouldn’t let him take out his temper on her. Never her. "You having problems at home again? Fair enough, but don’t take your shit out on her."

"It's okay, Daryl –"

"No, it ain't, Molls," I snapped, pushing my hair out of my eyes. "Far from it." When she moved to wade back to the shoreline, I snaked a hand out and pulled her back to me. "You ain't going anywhere, Molly." Draping a protective arm around her shoulders, I glared at my best friend. "Maybe she's not your friend, but she sure as hell is mine so show some damn respect."

Rourke and I had a solid sixty second stare down before he blew out a breath and dropped his gaze. "Shit, you're right."

Victory.

I knew I was right.

I also knew that he was going through hell right now.

Still didn’t give him the right to put tears in Molly's eyes.

Looking thoroughly defeated now, Rourke flicked his hard gaze to Molly and offered her a half-hearted shrug. "You can stay."

It was the closest thing to an apology she was going to get and we all knew it. Rourke had sharp edges and I seemed to be the only person in this entire town that could navigate said edges without getting cut.

"He's getting married again," came his blunt revelation a few moments later, pinpointing the reason for his hostile behavior.

"Your dad?" Molly asked softly.

Rourke nodded slowly, not lifting his gaze. "It's a fucking joke."

"Yeah," I agreed with a sigh.

"At least your daddy doesn’t make you go to church," Molly offered with a small smile.

"Yeah, thank fuck for that," Rourke chuckled humorlessly.

I snorted. "At least neither one of y'all have to live with Wretched."

No one said anything after that.

They both knew I had them trumped…

"You okay, D?" Rourke asked, stirring me from my memories. "Shit, you're as pale as a ghost, man."

"No," I admitted with a groan, body trembling from head to toe. "I've never been further from okay in my life."

Rourke turned to face me, concern laced in his blue eyes. "Shit." A furious growl escaped him and his gaze honed in on the faded bruise on my left cheekbone. "The fuck did he do this time?"