BooksBarbecue
Back Where There's A Will Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. Interlude
  37. Acknowledgements
  38. Content Warning
  39. About the Author

He heads back toward the register, his boots clapping angrily across the floor.

It’s so quiet you can hear a fucking pin drop. Even the music has stopped, and whether that’s a coincidence or someone unplugged the jukebox without me seeing, I have no idea.

Everyone moves then, converging on Waylon as he starts handing people their tabs. Without waiting for permission, I slide off my jacket and join him behind the bar to speed up the process. He shoots me an unreadable look, but he doesn’t seem put out by the gesture at least.

Between the two of us, we finish squaring everyone away in no time. Waylon pulls out a bin of chips and starts passing them around. A promise of a free drink to make up for ending the night early.

Once locked up, he wastes no time in flicking off the outside lights and heading toward the stairwell.

“Way,” I whisper.

He doesn’t seem to hear me.

Just as he parts the beaded curtain, I reach over, grabbing his arm.

He tenses. “Let me go.”

“What’s going on? Talk to me.”

His chest heaves, but he doesn’t pull away. He just stares up at whatever’s waiting for us on the second floor, with something akin to anger and dread all wrapped up into one.

“It’s September fourteenth,” he grits out.

I study his profile. “O-kay...” I say slowly.

He cuts me a look that has a wave of foreboding washing over me. Prickling the skin along the back of my neck.

“It’s the four-year anniversary of the day Izzy went missing,” he tells me. His face hardens impossibly more. “It’s the day they put on her fucking gravestone.”

Shit.

My eyes crease with sympathy. “Way—”

“I forgot, Will,” he rushes out in a voice like gravel. “I was so caught up in-in you, I forgot.”

This time, when he pulls away, I let him go.

I shouldn’t follow.

I know I shouldn’t.

But again, I’ve never been fucking smart when it comes to Waylon McAllister.

And right now, despite what he might think, he needs me. He needs someone on his side, because it sure as hell won’t be Shawn, or even Jeremy. Not when Mason’s like this.

And if Waylon destroys me in the process?

Then so fucking be it.

32

32

Waylon McAllister

Mason broke his sobriety.

My head empties of everything else but that. Those four fucking words I’ve been dreading since the day I got the call from Sherry, telling me that one of my best friends had been found unconscious and choking on his own vomit.

Since the moment I learned he’d be going to rehab.

Since the moment I thought I was left well and truly alone.