She knew that. At last, she knew that. Jared made her feel like no one else ever had, like her heart had been ten sizes too small and it was finally catching up with the rest of her. But she couldn’t be around for Brian and Ghost and everyone else to watch that fall to pieces too. For once, she had a little hope, so it was going to make it that much more humiliating if it didn’t work.
As if this moment wasn’t humiliating enough. But at least it was done. The weight she’d carried all these years should be gone, but it was crushing her more than ever. Now she had to go. A chapter in her life was closing. Brian would tell Candace—he wouldn’t keep something like this from her. No matter how sweet and understanding Candace was, she wouldn’t understand this. She wouldn’t be sweet about this.
“Well,” Brian said finally, after silence had stretched for too many long, uncomfortable seconds. He sounded lost, disillusioned, more than a little bewildered. “Keep me informed.”
“I will.” She couldn’t get out the door fast enough, leaving him staring after her.
Chapter Fifteen
Brian Ross yawned as he slipped out the side door of Dermamania. It wasn’t late enough to be yawning, at least not in his old, pre-baby life, but it didn’t matter anymore—a six-week-old didn’t give a shit what time it was, and he and Candace had been up most of the night before. Lyric liked to party all night and sleep all day, and Candace didn’t have it in her heart to keep him awake during the daylight hours so he would sleep at night.
But his bone-deep weariness wasn’t all due to sleep deprivation. Of all damn times for Starla to drop such a bomb on him. Now he had that to figure out, and he dreaded the fallout. Candace was fairly easygoing and certainly secure in their relationship, but he didn’t know how she would react to this. It wasn’t something he’d dare keep from her; he only hoped it wouldn’t kick up a big shit storm when he proposed his solution. He also hoped it wasn’t an idiotic solution. It would leave them fucked at the shop for a while, but it might be good for Star if she would go for it.
His brain was exhausted from mulling it over, so he shifted his thoughts to Candace and Lyric waiting for him at home. It was always the greatest sight to walk in the door to Candace’s sweet, tired face beaming with new-mother pride over Lyric’s tiny, miraculous perfection. Candace had sent a text ten minutes ago: Come on home, baby. Lyric and I miss you. He hadn’t been able to get his shit together fast enough. Being at work and away from his family was the absolute last thing he wanted. How did people do it? The tiniest sound could remind him of Lyric’s heartbreaking cry, and his damn concentration was right out the window from thinking about his son and his wife and how much he missed them. And they were only across town.
He’d often grumbled about his love for Candace turning him into a sap. It was nothing compared to what his love for Lyric had done to him. That little boy had unlocked an entire new world of emotion in Brian’s heart. He’d never been so happy and tired and so fucking freaked-out in his life. But it was all good.
As he walked to his truck in the dark parking lot, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and shot a text back to Candace: On my way, sunshine.
If he hadn’t been focused on doing that, he might have noticed the shadow creeping on him from the side. Too late. All he saw was a movement in his peripheral vision—quick, too quick, something, someone attacking, and all he had time to do was throw up his left arm before blinding pain sliced through his lower back.
With a roar of shock and agony, he lashed out, his right fist sinking deep into the motherfucker’s nose, crushing it, and he was rewarded with a yelp of agony and a string of curses. Mask, the guy was wearing a black ski mask. Black clothes. He recognized that voice, fucking hell…
White light in his head. His strength poured out, and he fell. This is it, he thought, seeing the flash of a bloody blade in the guy’s gloved hand, this is it, he’s going to finish it and Candace is waiting for me at home and I won’t get there. For what seemed like an hour but was probably only a few seconds, his assailant stared down at him, eyes twin pools of darkness that seemed to be sucking him down. Brian stared back, hanging on to what consciousness he had left. The guy lifted his hand to his mask and his shattered nose. When it came away, it dripped. Brian watched the red drop’s descent all the way to the pavement, then glared back up at him.
“Your blood’s at the scene, motherfucker,” he ground out. “Good luck with that.”
The asshole turned and bolted.