I started down the sidewalk in the direction of Lyrik’s pad, place less than a mile away. At this hour, the streets were next to vacant. A few revelers stumbled out of the dives and pubs that lined the river walk, voices elevated and slurred, exorbitantly loud.
I edged by them, refusing to pay them attention.
When I made it to the end of the block, I took a right around a building. I shoved my hands in my pockets and dropped my head as I increased my pace.
I did my best to ignore the footsteps that I could hear getting louder and louder from behind.
Coming closer.
The irritation I’d been running from all night only grew.
Heightened in the stagnant humidity.
My skin hot, that fiery pit in my stomach lapping with flames.
Trees overhung the street, spindly branches stretching wide, a canopy that hid the stars in the endless sky. Tonight, the moon was missing, the night grim and oppressive.
Advancing in from all sides. Threatening to devour.
The sounds of the river walk faded as I moved deeper into the slumbering neighborhood. The only light was the few streetlamps that flickered and spilled their muted glow out onto the narrow sidewalk.
I took a right at the next street, shoulders hitched up high when the roll of footsteps behind me only increased.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A war-beat that inched closer.
My heart rate sped. Battering at my ribs and flooding my veins.
Every sensation I possessed intensified as adrenaline lifted and rose.
Awareness tugged my chest into a knot.
The footsteps behind me got a beat closer just as a figure stepped out in front of me about twenty feet ahead.
I glanced behind me to see as some burly-ass dude encroached.
Motherfucker.
I was being hunted.
I swung back around to the guy who was waiting for me ahead. Two of them like wolves circling their kill.
Too bad they didn’t realize their prey was rabid.
Foaming at the mouth and vengeance-minded.
Didn’t contemplate or stall.
I flew for the prick, feet pounding the sidewalk through the vacant night.
Surprise knocked him back one step, and my fist connecting with his jaw knocked him the rest of the way to the ground.
Piece of shit howled as he skidded on the pavement. “Just wanna talk.”
Right. Considering in the same second, the prick behind was on me, slamming me in the side. An elbow rammed me right at the top of my spine.
Fuckface had the full intent to bring me to my knees.
Pain splintered across my ribs. The only thing it did was fuel the fury. Chest shivering with greed. Mouth watering with the hunger for retribution.
I whirled around, left arm swinging, clipping him on the side of his head.
He swung at the same second.
His meaty fist caught me at the edge of my mouth.
Rage tore through me like a fever. A match that consumed an entire building.
I threw two punches. He ducked and missed the first, but the second connected with his jaw.
He went down onto his knees, and my right fist connected with his opposite cheek.
His head rocked from side-to-side, and the next punch I threw landed on his nose.
I relished in the feel of the bone crushing, the blood that splattered onto the street. His hands went to his face in a vapid bid to protect himself.
I didn’t hesitate. I delivered three more blows.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Like a drumbeat.
A horrible, disgusting song that I was going to sing forever.
Apparently, they thirsted for the pain because the first guy I’d knocked on his ass climbed back onto his feet, stumbling my way like the moron actually thought he had a chance.
They wanted to take me down? They were going to have to do a whole ton better than showing up with fists.
I spun, throwing a kick before he even got within a foot of me. The sole of my boot hit him square in the chest. It blew him back, asshole stumbling before he lost his footing and fumbled back onto the ground.
Two pussies laying there in the middle of the road panting for a breath.
Unsuspecting.
I swiped at the single droplet of blood that ran down from the side of my mouth, glaring in disgust at the red from under the hazy, murky light.
I shook out my hands, knuckles busted and torn, probably more beat than the two bastards who were sitting there waiting for what was going to happen next.
Feeling the vibe.
The chaos that raged and hissed and seeped from my pores.
No fear.
Just the welcoming of pain.
“I’m guessing since you didn’t come here with guns you came to deliver a message.” I spat the words at the pricks who sat there fucking shaking.
No doubt, they were brand new pledges into this seedy, sleazy world.
Uneasily, they glanced between each other.
“That’s what I thought,” I grated. “How about you deliver a message for me?”
Nine
Leif
Sixteen Years Old
I let loose a low whistle.
“Whoa, she is pretty, isn’t she?” I asked through the awe as I let my hand flutter an inch over the gleaming bike. Brand new. Shining metal and perfect leather.
I was itching to caress it but I knew better than to actually touch.
The garage was dim, the only light getting in from the small windows that ran along the top.
“Happy birthday, Leif.”
Confusion moved through me, and I spun to look over my shoulder at my step-father who stood ten feet away. Did my best to process what was happening when he tossed something into the air, metal glinting in the bare rays of sunlight that filtered down through the dusty glass.
I caught it.
A keyring.
For a beat, I just stared at the single key on the keychain that was the same design I’d seen before. A P with two slashing lines cutting through the middle of it. It was something my stepfather wore on his vest and had in the autobody shop that he owned.
I glanced over at Keeton.
Wary.
Guy was intimidating as fuck. Would kick my ass from here to the fucking moon if I even looked at him wrong. White beard and piercing eyes. Skin worn and thick.
But I respected him for the fact he’d gotten me out of that rat-infested apartment when he and my mom had gotten together two years ago. Our stomachs full and a roof over our heads. Treated her right. Made her happy, which meant she was no longer focusing her misery on me.
Other than that? I pretty much stayed out of his way.
“What’s this?” I finally asked, dangling the key in front of me.
“Your birthday present.”
Dude had to be punking me.
“You can’t . . .” I swiveled to glance at the bike before I looked back at him. Excitement burned in my chest, all mixed up with the questions. “You can’t be serious? This is for me?”
Guy wasn’t about giving free rides. Ever since he’d come into our lives, he’d emphasized the fact that nothing came without a cost.
He pressed his hands together, rubbing them slow as he studied me. “You’re one of us now.”
A frown pulled my brow tight. “What’s that mean?”
“Get on your bike, and I’ll show you.”
Ten
Leif
Anger burning through me, I swiped the drip of blood that oozed from the corner of my mouth and stormed in the direction of Lyrik’s house. I glanced over my shoulder one more time before I pushed send on the message.
Me: Two pricks followed me out of a bar in Savannah. Got any word?
Didn’t take but a minute for it to buzz back.
Braxton: Nothing solid. But Keeton has been asking around again. Pushing. You’ve been playing with fire since the second you joine
d that band. Warned you if you put yourself in that position things were gonna go south.
Rage singed my insides, fingertips pounding a little harder at the phone than necessary.
Me: That’s because it’s time for some things to burn.
Braxton: Yeah. And you were supposed to stay on the down-low until that time came to pass.
Years.
I’d waited for three fucking years.
Braxton: You didn’t get a read on who they were?
Two pricks had run off into the night with their tails tucked between their legs.
Without saying a word.
Pussies.
Which meant they’d been expendable.
Sent as only a warning.
A reminder of what was unsettled.
Debt coming due.
Me: Two of them took off before I could get anything out of them.
Me: Whoever they are, seems we’re running out of time.
Braxton: And neither of us can afford for that to happen until we are sure. We fuck this up? We’re both dead.
Me: Price I’m willing to pay.
Owed it, anyway.
Braxton: Speak for yourself, asshole. You might relish the idea of getting cozy six-feet underground, but I personally have plans on wreaking a little more havoc before I call it quits.
Could almost hear him chuckling from the other end of the earth. Braxton was a scary motherfucker. He never thought twice about smothering what needed to be extinguished.
But I also trusted him with my life. Two of us tied in this thing together before either of us had known what was happening.
Braxton: Patience, brother.
Me: Three years not enough?
Braxton: And that means you should be able to hold out a few more weeks. Don’t do anything stupid. He’s paranoid. Believe me when I say you’re not the only one after him. His time is coming.
Braxton: Trust me to get a little more. I’ll press Ridge. See if he has a lock on who might have pinned you in Savannah. Until then, sit tight and don’t get stupid.
I hesitated, hating that I was at the wheel that was driving all of this. Riding too fucking fast when it felt like I’d been frozen still for half my life. What this could mean for Braxton and the rest of the people tied to me.
Me: Don’t like that I have you so deep in the middle of this.
He didn’t have to be standing next to me for me to hear his scoff.
Braxton: There was a reason I swore loyalty, Leif. Don’t question it now.
Me: Thought you said you didn’t relish the idea of going to ground.
Braxton: One-hundred percent. But it’s not fucking going to come to that. Won’t let it.
I blew out a heavy breath as I made it around to the back gate, the area fortified like I was entering a fucking palace.
Sounded about right.
Me: Okay. Keep me posted. Just . . .
I paused, trying to figure out how to put it into words. Fact I couldn’t allow the mistakes I’d made—the life I’d chosen—to affect the people I cared about.
I glanced through the metal bars meant to keep monsters out, guts getting twisted up in painful knots when I thought of the people sleeping inside. Wondering how the fuck it was that I’d gotten so careless. Dragging more people into my lane.
Me: . . . Just find out who knows I’m here. Keep this shit in L.A. Can’t afford for anyone to come sniffing this way.
Braxton: I’ll handle it. Stay safe, brother.
A disorder blew around me, and I stuffed my phone into my pocket while I punched in the code with the other hand. The lock beeped, disengaged, and the gate popped open. I climbed the two steps through the entrance that led into another world.
I moved toward the guest house, slowing like some kind of fiend when I caught the wispy figure barely seen through the enormous windows across the yard. They could almost pass for mirrors in the shimmering, lapping night, my face some kind of hollow void in the reflection, overcasting the silhouette that stood facing away in front of a blank canvas.
Her delicate hand was poised with a brush, and her entire being tremored with expression. But her fingers were held, the ghosts I could almost see swirling around her leaving her with nothing to say.
I scrubbed a palm over my face like it would break up the image.
Make it different.
But it was her. She was the artist.
Knew I had to get out of there before I let myself slip any farther.
Get gone before she noticed.
Too late.
Her spine stiffened and her shoulders tensed, her entire being coiling tight when she sensed my presence.
Slowly, she shifted around to peer out the windows into the night, the profile of her face sharp and bitterly sweet.
That ache in my gut tightened tenfold.
Remember, my conscience screamed, what little of it remained, only thing left the scraps of loyalty and gutting wrath.
That didn’t seem to matter, though, because I took a step forward into a sliver of light shed from the porch above. Something inside me wanted to erase the fear I could see slithering across her flesh, same thing I’d felt that first night. All the while, I knew I couldn’t do anything but add to it.
Her throat bobbed when those sable eyes traced me through the window, our faces over-laid in the glass.
What the fuck was I doing?
I needed to turn my ass around and head for the guest house. Lock myself inside. Pack my things and just go.
But no.
I was moving in the wrong fucking direction. To the door at the far left that led into the west wing of the house, fingers foolishly entering the code that was meant to protect but clearly had been bred for the sole-purpose of disaster.
But I couldn’t stop myself.
Drawn.
Bound to this thing I couldn’t put my damn finger on. Tension kinked my muscles. Coiled them with need.
I stepped into the billowing darkness of the large room, my eyes adjusting to take everything in.
It was some kind of play room that was doubling as an art studio.
A play area was on one side, and on the right side a couple of easels had been set up in a half circle, supplies in wheeled storage carts on each side of them.
Blank canvases leaned against that wall. Begging to be brought to life. To be assigned a meaning.
And there she was in the middle of it.
The angel in the attic.
Mia West.
Lyrik’s baby sister.
Completely off limits and a straight up wet dream.
Wearing this flimsy pajama set, cropped pants and a strappy top. White, thin material. Close to transparent.
I itched. Dick hard. Throat dry.
I fisted my hands like it might give me the strength to hold it together.
Her chin quivered. “What are you doing in here?”
My lips pursed. “I . . .”
I warred with what to say, doing my best not to form a lie, but the truth was something that couldn’t be spoken.
I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, and I don’t know why.
You affect me in a way you can’t.
Want to touch you.
Want to take from you whatever it is you don’t have the strength to hold.
Want to kiss you. Hold you. Fuck you.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to go over so well.
“Just . . . wanted to check on you. It’s . . . late, and I saw that you were still up,” I settled on.
Her eyes roved, widening when they passed over my mouth. “Are you hurt? What happened?” she demanded in worry, lurching forward a foot like she had the compulsion to take care of me before she came to a grinding stop.
Intuition kicking in, a warning not to get too close to me.
Smart girl.
I ran the pad of my thumb over the cut. “It’s nothing,” I grumbled.
She huffed out a disbelieving sound. “You’ve been in Savannah for one ni
ght, and you already managed to get into a fight? I guess you’re easy to read, too, aren’t you?”
Mia’s head angled to the side in disappointment.
Doubted she knew how damned seductive it was.
The sharp angle of her jaw and cheeks, those full lips pulling into a pout, eyes keen yet sweet.
A glance and this girl could bring me to my knees.
“And what’s it you’re seeing?”
She took a step toward me. Felt like the girl was floating a foot off the ground. Vapors luring me into a dream.
“Trouble. I knew it the second I saw you.”
“You wouldn’t be wrong.” It was a grunt. Deflection. A defense meant for her to pick up and use against me.
“Then why are you here?” she asked.
Lush hair rained down her back. A black, boundless river, weaving its way around the contour of her delicate shoulders as she edged my way.
Had the sudden urge to bury my face in it and drown.
“Why do you keep showing up in front of me like this is where you’re supposed to be?” she pressed, those eyes so deep they could do me in.
“That’s called temptation, Mia. A test. Not everything you want is good for you. Better to resist it now than to let it consume us later.”
“So that’s why you choose to act like a dick?”
A rumble of self-deprecating laughter left me, and I was inching her way, unable to stop. “No acting to it.”
“Are you sure about that? Because it sure seems like you’re covering for something to me.”
Huffing, I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep myself from doing something stupid like reaching out and touching her. Would do well to keep my mouth shut, too, but no. I couldn’t leave it at that.
Kiss the Stars Page 10