Ty grinned. “Somehow I doubt hearing about your day in court is going to get my juices flowing.” He laughed and reached for the ingredients of a refined martini his friend had come to prefer over the beer of days past.

The other man shook his head. “Jack Daniel’s. Neat.”

Ty raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Something big must be going on if you’re giving up your polished drink for harder liquor. And here I was just about to say congratulations on winning your case but if you were celebrating, you wouldn’t be ordering whiskey.”

Hunter’s expression was clouded. Obviously, he was miles away, his thoughts definitely not on his big win today.

Ty figured he’d know what was bothering his friend soon enough. When Hunter had a problem to deal with, he usually mulled it over for too long before spilling his guts.

“Do you remember when I came to live with you and your mom as a foster kid?” Hunter asked.

The subject took Ty by surprise. “Yeah, I remember. But that was a long time ago and a lot has changed. You looked different then for one thing. Hell, you were different.”

At sixteen, Daniel Hunter had come into the Benson home with a chip on his shoulder and an unwillingness to let anyone in. He’d already decided nobody in the world would care about him anyway. He’d been wrong on both counts. Hunter had spent almost a year with Tyler and his mother, becoming like family to them both.

Hunter nodded. “I’ve tried to be different. Better somehow.”

Ty glanced at his friend, understanding his reasons. He’d fought hard to become an upstanding lawyer and member of the community and he’d succeeded. Tonight he wore dark jeans that looked pressed and new, along with a rugby shirt. Hunter’s choice in clothing was a symbol of the man he’d become.

“You may dress the stuffed preppy part but you’re still a street kid at heart,” Ty teased. Which was why they’d remained tight over the years. “So what’s going on that’s forcing you to remember the past now?”

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“Things. And it’s not just that I need to remember, but I need you to go back in time, too.”

“I remember Mom taking you in,” Ty said.

“We were so different I thought you’d kill me in my sleep,” Hunter said, his wry laughter interrupting Ty’s thoughts.

“You’re lucky I didn’t.” Ty grinned, the memory of Hunter’s first night in the Benson home still vivid.

“The kid in the home I was in before yours kicked my ass after his mother left me in his room.

You just tossed me a pillow and warned me not to snore,” Hunter reminded him.

“You did it anyway.” Ty laughed.

Outwardly they couldn’t have been more different—Ty with his longer straggly dark hair and his mother’s olive skin, Hunter with his sandy hair and paler skin. But the two had bonded. They were similar enough for an unlikely alliance to form because like Hunter, Ty didn’t trust easily, either.

How could he when his father had set the pattern in a youth filled with broken promises? I’ll be at your game. I’ll pick you up from practice.  If gambling and offtrack betting didn’t distract him first, Ty thought bitterly. His father was consistently unreliable. Ironically, knowing he couldn’t count on his old man hadn’t prepared Ty for the ultimate kick in the ass.

He’d just turned nine the week before when his father had promised he’d pick him up from basketball practice. Ty hadn’t been shocked when he’d been left standing out in the parking lot in the dead of winter. It wasn’t the first time. So he’d huddled against a lamppost, knowing his old man would show up eventually full of apologies and excuses. When he didn’t, Ty had finally dragged himself to the nearest business and called his mother who’d come immediately to pick him up. Together they’d discovered his father had taken off for good.

For the first time in his life, Joe Benson had left a note. He’d also left Ty cold, wary of trust and promises. Until Hunter had come into his home and then a short time later, Lilly.

Before he allowed himself to take that path, he turned to his friend. “So what’s got you traveling down memory lane tonight?” Ty asked, pouring the whiskey into a glass and sliding it over to his friend.

Hunter smiled grimly. “You should pour yourself one, too.”

Ty raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Hunter leaned closer and spoke low and deep. “It’s about Lilly.”

Just hearing her name caused overwhelming emotions to rush through Ty and his head pounded hard. Neither he nor Hunter had heard from Lilly again after the night she left for good.

“What’s going on?” he asked Hunter, needing answers.

Hunter drew a long breath before speaking. “ Dumont ’s planning to have Lilly declared legally dead and claim her trust fund as his own.”

Ty didn’t wait for the words to penetrate before reacting, slamming his fist onto the top of the bar. “Son of a bitch.”

All the old anger and resentment that Ty had spent years nurturing, then burying, welled up inside him once more. Dumont may have brought Lilly into Ty’s life but he’d also been the reason Ty had lost her for good. He’d never forgive the man for that or for the abuse he’d heaped onto Lilly in the years before they’d met.

As the reality of Hunter’s news set in, the past returned, surrounding Ty as if were happening today. The blood pounded in his head, his feelings raw. First Hunter had come into Ty’s home, somehow breaching the walls he’d erected since his father had walked out. Then Lilly had arrived and it was as if the small hole he’d made for Hunter had weakened his barriers and they’d come tumbling down. He’d paid for that over many long lonely years but he couldn’t regret meeting or caring about Lilly.

For a short time he’d learned to open his heart. Ty had gone from a loner to a guy surrounded by his best friend and his best girl—at least that’s how he’d thought of her at the time, although they’d never had the chance to really act on the feelings simmering below the surface. Maybe they’d been smart enough, even at their young age, to put the friendship first. Maybe time just hadn’t been on their side. Ty would never know. Because too soon a letter came, indicating her abusive uncle’s intent to have her returned to his custody, and the three friends had put their plan into motion.

“Hard to believe, Dumont has the balls after all these years, huh?” Hunter asked.




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