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Chapter 29

Well, isn't this awesome. Getting drunk in a honky-tonk bar where the mullet still lived.

The tavern Christopher drank in lacked strobe lights and leather banquettes, sporting instead rough plank floors, wooden tables and chairs, and pockmarked walls from years of badly thrown darts.

However, while the dŽcor might be a little rustic, the beer was cheap and plentiful. Cheap alcohol equaled getting drunk fast and thoroughly.

After the first few, he chugged them like water. Anything to dull the strange ache in his heart.

He even knew the cause. Not deep-fried foods or too much white powder up his nose for once.

He was sad.

Chris and Isobel might have fought. He might have balked at getting married, but damn it all, he never wanted her to die.

Especially not a virgin, poor girl.