My bottom lip trembled as my ear tuned into the heavy metal music blasting from the confines of the old brick walls I knew kept him hidden. The curtains were closed. Exactly the way they’d been for the last two weeks.
I struggled for control, silently screaming the mantra with a hand fisted at my side. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.
But the crazy awareness wouldn’t let me go. Dread slid down my spine like the freezing slick of ice. Shaking, my gaze jumped to the stack of moving boxes sitting to the left of his door.
Lyrik West was scratched in Sharpie on the sides.
The sight of them nearly brought everything crashing down. Reality striking home.
Two months.
He couldn’t even give me that. And I’d allowed myself to be na?ve enough to dream of so much more. That our moments had meant something. Because to me, they’d come to mean everything.
I wobbled on my five-inch heels, and my hand darted out to the wall to keep myself from sinking to the ground. I sucked for nonexistent air. It took everything to keep from falling to my knees.
But I didn’t.
Because Tamar King would always stand.
Voices shouted in an attempt to be heard over the country band playing onstage. People laughed and shouted. A crush of bodies vied for a spot close to the gleaming wood of the ornate, carved bar, as if touching it gave the promise of a good time.
Typical of a summer Friday night, Charlie’s was packed.
I couldn’t help but be grateful for the distraction. I hustled behind the bar because I was damn good at my job.
So maybe it hadn’t been my lifelong dream. Maybe it didn’t fill me with hope and awe and the quest for things that could never be.
But it was safe. Void of all the silly, absurd notions Lyrik had incited.
Better to stamp them out now than to have them destroy me in the end.
“How are you holding up, sugar?” Charlie’s voice struck me from behind. Softer than normal. As if he needed to approach me with caution and not all the ease he had before Lyrik had messed up the security I’d established in this life.
I really hated that, too.
I glanced at my old friend. At the piece of family I’d found here. The flare of unease trembling my insides warned I was soon to lose this false sanctuary, too.
A coy smile spread across my face. Forced. Fake. “Holding up just fine, old man. How about you? Looks like Nathan could use some help rather than you standing looking over my shoulder like you have nothing better to do.”
I shot it at him like a teasing taunt, a single eyebrow arching right along with the arch of my upper lip.
A smile flickered beneath his scraggly beard, though his brown eyes remained soft. “Well…I guess since you’ve got it all under control, I’d better make myself busy.”
Under control.
Right.
“You sure you don’t need anything?” he added.
I shooed him. “Go on…I’ve got it handled. The last thing I need is you slowing me down. You know I live for the hustle.”
Backing away, he held his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. Message received. Tamar is just fine…all on her own.”
I scowled in his direction. I knew what he was doing. What he was implying. The way his tone went fatherly and his words filled with concern.
“Yep. I’m perfectly fine. On my own,” I emphasized.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, sugar. Just know you aren’t foolin’ anyone but yourself. But I’d bet you aren’t even managing that.”
Charlie gave me a pointed stare before he turned and headed over to check on Nathan, and I forced my attention back on my job.
And I did just that.
Tried to pretend everything was fine.
To pretend I wasn’t falling apart.
Rending.
Splitting.
Crumbling.
Tried to pretend I didn’t have the sensation of being fractured in two.
Sophie, one of the weekend waitresses, set her tray down on the bar and leaned over it.
“How’s that order coming?” she asked. “Table nineteen is about to lose their shit.” She sighed dramatically. “Sometimes I wish the frat boys wouldn’t come out to play.”
It seemed a miracle, but low laughter rolled from my tongue. I gave her an amused shake of my head. “You and me both. Just give me…two…seconds…” I drew out as I finished pouring tequila across three shot glasses.
I slid the drinks to her. “There you go, gorgeous. Don’t let those boys get to you. Not any of them are worth it.”
None of them. Not for a second.
“Thank you.” She situated them on her tray, shot me a smile, calling over her shoulder as she walked away, “Wish me luck.”
“Good lu—” The words locked in my throat when the front doors swung open, which they’d been doing all night. But this time…this time they stopped me in my tracks.
Awareness spread.
Tension wound.
Tighter and harder and faster.
Gaining speed as it barreled forward like a speeding train.
Malicious and dark and foreboding.
My heart stalled before it took off at a sprint. Wild and offbeat.
Ash strode in like he owned the place, his dimpled grin and hungry gaze taking in the churning mayhem dancing within the old walls. It was clear he was all too keen to add to it.
Two steps behind was Zee.