Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)

I held onto her like a lifeline.

My smirk spread, as forced as it was. “Well, since you’re here to spread a little rock ‘n’ roll cheer, and y’all know exactly how much I like my boys tattooed and screaming…” I glanced down at Lyrik as if it didn’t bother me at all. “I’ll be happy to help a man out,” I continued. “What can I get for you?”

Ash grinned and shot me a wink. “I’ll take my regular, darlin’.”

My eyes narrowed at him. He was so up to something.

Zee’s voice was quiet. “Just a Coke for me. I have to drive these assholes around.”

With that sneer firmly set in place, I looked back at Lyrik. “How about you…do you want me to whip you up something extra special?”

The words came out spiteful, though they ached in my throat like some kind of betrayal.

Ash spoke up. “I think our boy here would like a little taste of whatever it is you have to offer. Just as long as you don’t make him choke on it. He seems to be a bit out of sorts lately.”

God, Ash. As much as I liked the guy, he needed to stop.

“Sure thing,” I drawled out, making sure to give Lyrik a good sway of my hips in his face as I turned to leave.

Could anyone blame me?

I was the one pushed up against a wall. Nailed to it, really.

A flash fire of heat jetted up my arm when I felt Lyrik’s big hand wrap around my wrist.

Shackling.

Restraining.

An iron fetter I felt around my heart.

Panicked, I jerked to look back at him, my eyes wide and shocked.

I forced myself to narrow them into a glare.

Did he really have the audacity to touch me?

“What?” I spat the word as I yanked my arm free.

Reluctantly, he let me go. His mouth coiled in some sort of misery, and those obsidian eyes flashed. “Blue.”

Damn him. Playing games. Winding me up. Watching me spin and spin and spin. I wouldn’t let him do this to me again.

Defiance and my last shred of self-preservation squared my jaw. “Sorry, but I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Spinning on my heel, I was quick to seek refuge behind the bar. It had to be by some miracle I managed to keep my head held high while I filled their drinks.

I poured Lyrik the same tumbler of Jager as Ash.

He didn’t get the best of me. Not anymore. He didn’t get what was sacred and special and had only been offered to him. He didn’t get my joy or my belief or my hope.

With their drinks arranged on a tray, I headed their way. I stumbled to a stop when I saw Ash walking back to their table.

Three girls in tow.

My stomach plummeted.

No. No. No.

Why would Ash do this to me?

This I could not handle. This I could not face. A curl of jealousy twisted through me like a nasty viper. Fangs impaling my skin and sinking into my flesh. Pumping me full of poison.

Poison hurt, didn’t it?

Burned and stung as it sped through your veins, setting every cell to decay?

Sophie smiled as she passed by. I shoved the tray at her. “Here, take this to my friends. Just a warning…it looks like you might have lost your date for the night.”

Or maybe Lyrik would take all three of them home.

Shit.

If it wasn’t so late, I’d ask Shea if I could come crash at her place.

No way could I stomach stumbling into them at my apartment tonight.

Sophie’s attention darted that direction. Her face fell. “What an asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

Yeah. What an asshole. I just wasn’t entirely sure who I was talking about.

She headed that way carrying about as much spite in her swagger as I’d approached them with ten minutes ago, all the while I struggled not to look that way. Struggled not to care. Struggled to maintain who I’d been before Lyrik had first walked through Charlie’s door more than a year ago.

But I wasn’t sure I knew her anymore.

Wasn’t sure which of us was real.

Sophie delivered the drinks, paused as Ash tugged her down so he could whisper something in her ear. She was almost at a sprint when she danced back wearing a smile that couldn’t have been pried from her face.

“It’s totally still on,” she gushed, completely clueless to my torment.

“That’s great.” I barely managed to voice it without it being loaded down by sarcasm.

“He’s really cute,” she added.

“Yeah, he is,” I agreed, because I totally got Ash’s charm, although I seemed to be wholly immune to it considering Lyrik was the only one who held the power to make me feel.

“Who’s cute?”

I glanced up to find the source of the voice. A man who was nothing more than a boy rested his forearms on the bar top, leaning across it toward me. He couldn’t have been a day older than twenty-one, his collar popped, one of those preppy, pretty boys who made their way into the bar from time to time.

I frowned and he just smiled.

A.L. Jackson's books