Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)

But it was the boy who followed them who might as well have stood out in front.

Eclipsing all.

Like shattering, splintering light.

That sinister man rode in on all his raving intensity. His body was rigid, as if that wild energy was condensed and compounded. Gathering to a pinpoint.

Set to fire.

Cutting down anyone and anything in its path like the devastating shockwave of an atom bomb.

The buzz before the strike.

But this time, the strike just might prove fatal.

How sick was it I still wanted him? That after seeing that photo and hearing his words, I still clung to the moments we’d shared as if they’d somehow counted. When he’d laid them all to waste.

Two weeks. Two weeks of silence. Silence in the shape of loud, thrashing, violent music through the walls. After all we’d shared physically, emotionally, he’d simply let go. Let me go. Not a word. Not an explanation. As if he owed me nothing.

Why did I always want the things that would harm me most?

Furtively, I cut my eyes his way, hoping he wouldn’t notice but needing one last image to keep for when he was gone.

Memorizing.

It wasn’t so hard. There was no chance I could forget. Tonight he wore a tight white V-neck tee. The tattoos I’d come to know so well vibrated beneath bunched muscle, as if every fiber of him seethed with his own anger.

Emotion burned behind my traitorous eyes, and just as fast as I’d looked, I turned my back before he could catch the anguish I was certain painted every inch of my expression.

For the second time that day, my hands shot forward to keep myself standing, my body jerking as I clutched the edge of the bar and tried to prepare myself to again come face to face with Lyrik West. I tried to find safety behind the walls I had built. To gain solid ground. To fortify and protect.

Never again would I allow him to control me.

With my head dropped, my lips moved soundlessly, as if I were sending up a silent prayer. Reaching for a buoy. A petition to find truth in the words that would allow me to remain afloat.

You are strong. You are nobody’s slave. He only has power and effect if you give it to him. And you won’t let him have it.

Blowing out a breath, I donned that stoic, lofty mask, lifted my chin, and went back to work. The whole time I pretended as if I wasn’t painfully aware of him standing there in the haze of light suspended above him. As if I didn’t feel the heat of his unfaltering gaze searing into me.

Stark, disbelieving laughter shook my throbbing chest. For a fleeting second, my armor dropped, leaving me vulnerable to his sharp stare.

Why now? Why after two weeks would he show his face when I’d caught nothing more than a glimpse of the back of his head in all that time? It had been as if he’d calculated his every move, ensuring he’d evaded, avoided, and eluded any sight of me.

So easily forgotten.

Dirty.

I could feel the break in the air, the shift, and I knew he’d followed Ash and Zee over to the secluded booth where they liked to hide out. Away from prying eyes and their rock-star fame. Although truthfully, they really didn’t seem to have that many issues around here. Most of the locals’ tastes slanted country, and they came to the bar in droves on the nights the more popular country bands played.

But that didn’t mean the guys didn’t garner attention on their appearance alone.

Girls out looking for a good time couldn’t resist these boys who looked so bad.

Trouble and disorder and a mind-blowing good time.

Pain stabbed at my stomach as I pictured Lyrik leaving here with one of them. Or more likely, with two. That always seemed to be his style. Images of the side of the boy I really didn’t know flashed through my mind, the lusty gleam in his sinful eyes as he was draped in all-too willing women.

I couldn’t shake the fear he was out for one last hurrah in the tiny city of Savannah before he left it all behind.

Before he left me behind.

He’d promised he would.

But I’d never imagined it’d be on these terms.

“Hey, Tamar.” Sophie broke into my tortured thoughts when she called to me from the other side of the bar. She craned her head back in the direction of the isolated booth. “Your friends are here.”

As if I hadn’t noticed.

“The cute blond one is insisting you take care of them. He said something about it being an emergency. Of course he did it with a smile on his face, so I’m not so sure what could be so urgent, but I figured you wouldn’t mind all that much considering you normally go running that direction the second they step through the door.”

Running?

Had it really been that way in those weeks when things were so easy between Lyrik and me? Had I really gone to him so readily?

Just another ignorant lamb willingly led off to the slaughter.

God, I was stupid.

No more.

Strutting across to the boundless array of liquor lined up on the back bar, I grabbed a bottle of vodka. I barely glanced over my shoulder to respond. “Well, I do mind.”

A.L. Jackson's books