Free Faithful to a Fault by K. J. Reed Page B

right? The whole ‘I’m just helping you with the glasses’ bit? I know you.”
    Maria blew a strand of hair off her forehead and set the glass down with a thunk. “And I know you. You haven’t said a word about Pete. You’ve been dragging your ass around here for days now. What the hell happened?” she asked, tossing the rag at Sarah’s face.
    Sarah caught the cloth before it hit her. “It’s over, I guess. What more is there to say?”
    “It’s over. You guess? How do you not know one way or the other?” Maria hopped up onto the closed storage chest.
    “Don’t you have tables to wait on?”
    “Nope,” Maria replied cheerfully, letting her feet swing and bump against the counter in rhythm. “Last table cashed out and I’m last in rotation. So unless there’s a rush, I’m basically done for the shift.”
    “Server chores,” Sarah shot back.
    “All finished,” Maria answered.
    “Lucky me,” Sarah muttered as she turned the water on to wash some bar mugs.
    “What?”
    “I said golly gee!” she called over the rushing water.
    The water shut off without warning. Sarah looked up to see Maria standing inches away, hand on the faucet, a serious look in her eyes.
    “Talk.”
    Sarah sighed and brushed hair out of her eyes with her wrist. “I love you. You know that. But this is just one of those times when I can’t talk it out. Not yet.”
    Maria nodded. “Fine. Forget Pete. Hot guy alert at the front door,” Maria whispered.
    “Hell no. I’m done even looking at men who walk through that door.” Sarah hefted a crate full of polished glasses.
    “Sarah?”
    That voice. A ghost from her past. Slowly, careful not to bump anything with the crate, she turned around.
    “Hello, Trav.”
    * * * * *
     
    “Do you want something to drink?”
    “No, I’m good.” Trav settled on her worn couch, observant eyes taking in every inch of her apartment. Sarah could only imagine what he thought of her more-than-humble abode.
    Sarah opened the fridge door anyway and stuck her head in. “I have water, some apple juice, milk, um…” She shifted containers around. “A few beers from a promo thing at the bar.”
    A large, warm hand covered hers on the handle. “Sarah.” When she looked up, her brother’s face was concerned. “I’m fine. Will you come sit down now, please?”
    She followed behind mutely, sitting at the other end of the couch. Looking to her right, she studied her brother in silence.
    His eyes were the same color she remembered, but they looked wiser, sharper. His face was a bit leaner. His shoulders were definitely broader. And he had what she perceived as some sort of inner peace that hadn’t existed in the boy of eighteen.
    When Trav’s foot touched hers, she realized she’d been bouncing on the balls of her feet. She forced her legs to cease the motion, but nothing could stop her brain from whirling.
    “Talk to me. Tell me something. Anything,” he begged.
    Her brother’s eyes were patient. And while she wasn’t a big sharer, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
    “Why did you leave me behind?”
    Trav’s eyes widened then darkened with anger. “Is that what that bastard excuse for a father told you? That I ditched you?”
    Sarah looked away, ashamed. “Yeah. I didn’t believe it at first. But then you didn’t come back to visit. Didn’t come get me. And I just started believing it. I didn’t want to. But you never came back.”
    “Sarah, I—” Her brother held up his hands and let them fall back in his lap. “I was eighteen. I left for boot, I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. I couldn’t have taken you with me even if I had been able to afford it. You were a minor, and as much as our dad probably didn’t care if you stayed or left, you know what he would have done.”
    The passing years of maturity told her exactly what. “He’d have reported you for kidnapping.”
    “Yes. Just to spite us. And then, when I was more stable, you stopped