Skeletons of Us (Unquiet Mind Book 2)

by Anne Malcom

  I ignored Killian and another broadly built and disgustingly attractive man walking in front of us.

  The club we entered was bigger than it appeared on the outside and was already half packed. We entered without fanfare, and luckily, we didn’t have any paps trailing us and only a few people noticed us. None made a big deal as we waded through the crowds. I wasn’t sure if it was because people were generally more laidback here as we came here often or because it looked like Killian would shoot anyone who approached. Either way, we made it to the bar without incident.

  I took the shot that magically appeared in my hand and clinked my glasses with the boys. I hoped to welcome oblivion, or at least numbness.

  *****

  “Hey everyone. We’re feeling like a little karaoke tonight. Anyone object?” I murmured into the microphone, not quite slurring my words, but getting close.

  The crowd screamed in response. It wasn’t the pulsating mass I’d become used to, just a more low-key group of people we’d spent the night mingling with. I thought Killian might have a heart attack half the night if the look on his face was anything to go by.

  A little evil part of me liked this.

  Then, we’d decided to climb on the stage. “We used to play here, before Sam got all pretty,” I continued into the mic. “People change and this song is for someone I knew a long time ago.” My eyes sought out ice blue ones that had been watching me the entire time.

  I turned to grin at Sam who was beside me. Noah and Wyatt had opted out of the karaoke session.

  “Hit it, Eddie.” I nodded to where Eddie switched on the music with a grin. A heap of our tour crew had turned up tonight, as this was a bar where mostly musicians and roadies hung out. Starlets didn’t frequent it because it was out of the way of the glitzier clubs and where the “common people” hung out. Which is why we loved it. Only a few people knew about it, so we weren’t mobbed with crazy fans.

  On cue, Gotye’s “Somebody I used to know” started playing and I didn’t hesitate. Everything was numb around the edges I didn’t feel the pain of the words I sang. But I sang them. Right to those ice blue eyes that were frozen in place throughout the entire number. Even when Sam’s voice mingled with mine and he danced with me like an idiot, my eyes only left Killian’s for moments before they crept back like magnets.

  The end of the song was welcomed with whoops and cheers. No one took stock of how much I had been singing that song. Really singing it. Apart from the person I was singing it to.

  *****

  “I need to go to the bathroom and fix my…”—my hand gestured to my hair—“lipstick,” I said to our group.

  The boys nodded. Sam was transfixed with a woman with impressive boobs and Wyatt was leaning back with a glass in his hand and chatting to Eddie. He didn’t have a girl with him and seemed to be content just hanging out tonight. We were in a separated VIP area, which meant we weren’t swarmed with people, though we could hear them screaming our names every now and then. Other musicians and actors were peppered in the VIP area, some came for a quick hello and a drink while most left us alone. Maybe that was because we’d dragged half of our roadies from the club with us into the VIP area.

  I stood on shaky feet, regretting the last vodka, guessing it was the culprit that made my head spin. I successfully weaved through the tables of A-listers without falling on my face and I turned in a corridor, which I hoped lead to the bathrooms.

  “You know, stalking is rude,” I informed Killian, whirling around. I’d sensed him following me the moment I stood up. His gaze had been electric ever since I’d sang that song. It permeated my alcohol haze. The motion of me turning so quickly made me stumble forward and his hands settled on my hips to steady me.

  I should have been mad at him touching me like this, but I was happy. Happy because it meant I didn’t take a header on the carpet and also because it felt nice.

  It was that simple.

  Simple was good.

  “You’re drunk,” he observed, his face and voice hard.

  I screwed my nose up at him. “No, you’re drunk,” I hissed. I frowned. “Wait, that wasn’t a good comeback. Give me a second.” I held up a finger. Killian didn’t say a thing and his hands stayed at my hips. I tilted my head down, thinking of something. My head snapped up. “No, you’re drunk,” I shot triumphantly. My face fell as I realized what I said. “Shit, I already said that,” I muttered. Note to self, brain doesn’t work when mixed with shots.

  “Fuck,” Killian bit out, his voice a low growl. Then he moved us so I tottered back and hit a wall. Killian’s hands came up on either side of me, boxing me in. His scent overwhelmed me and I sucked it in greedily. “You’re fuckin’ cute when you’re drunk,” he murmured against my mouth.

  I shivered at the proximity of his lips to mine. All I could think of was closing the tiny distance between us and pressing my lips to his. I’m sure there was a reason why I shouldn’t, but it was hard to remember exactly what. Those lips were like a cupcake in front of diabetic. Tempting as all hell, but the consequence of giving in to temptation was not worth it.

  Or maybe it was.

  “It’s hard to be mad at you when you’re this cute,” Killian growled.

  I blinked up at him. “You’re mad at me?”

  Killian’s eyes glowed. “Fuckin’ furious.”

  “Why?” I was pretty sure I was the one who should have been mad, considering he’d glared at every man who spoke to me the entire night. My boys and Eddie were the only ones brave enough to face his wrath and keep talking to me.

  His hand trailed up the bare skin of my back. “We’ll start with this outfit,” he rasped. I sucked in a breath as his hand drew circles on my lower back. “Too fuckin’ sexy for your own good and makes me want to do things to the men lookin’ at you that will land me in a state penitentiary’s for the rest of my life.” His mouth was still inches away from me and his eyes never left mine. “Then we’ll go to you drinkin’ in a fuckin’ club with crowds of people when you’ve got a crazy person after you.” He paused. “We’ll finish with you playing the part of someone you’re not.”

  I scowled at him as the word penetrated. “You can’t talk about that. You have no idea who I am now. I could be this girl,” I argued. My argument wasn’t strong considering my words were slurred.

  Killian’s hand moved to brush hair from my face. “Guess you could be, but you’re not. I know exactly who you are. Always have and always will.”

  I had to ignore those words and the intensity behind his eyes. Luckily, alcohol worked perfectly in letting me pick and choose what emotions to focus on.

  “Fuck it,” I whispered. “I’m going to have the cupcake.”

  Killian’s face screwed up in confusion, before I closed the distance and pressed my lips to his. I guessed his expression changed then, but I was too busy kissing the shit out of him to notice.

  Go big or go home, I say.

  I liked drunk Lexie.

  The feeling of his lips against mine after all of these years was something. Something I couldn’t describe. I wasn’t an astronaut, but I imagined this was what it was like when they left Earth’s atmosphere.

  Killian made a sound at the back of his throat as he plastered his body to mine and pressed me into the wall. His hands ran up my hips, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Then they moved to either side of my neck and he pulled himself from my lips.

  I groaned in frustration.

  Killian’s eyes burned into mine. I could see them even in the dim light of the corridor. “Fuck, Lexie,” he ground out, voice thick. “I can’t fuckin’ kiss you when you’re drunk. I won’t take advantage of you like that.”

  I struggled against his hands. They were firm. “You can so. I give you full permission to take advantage of me.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I won’t. Next time I taste the sweetness of your lips is going to be when you’re sober. When you can appreciate the fact th
at once my lips touch yours again, they’re not gonna stop until I taste every inch of you.”

  He let go of me and stepped back, as if he needed to physically distance himself. His fists were clenched at his sides and he didn’t move his gaze from mine.

  I frowned at him, and at the same time, I was set alight with desire. Too many emotions.

  “You need to get out of here, now, freckles,” Killian growled, “before I forget every sane reason for why I shouldn’t fuck you against that wall and make you scream my name for this whole fuckin’ club to hear.”

  My lady parts jumped at his voice. It was pure sex. And something else, something wild that both excited and scared the shit out of me.

  I stood straighter and pointed to the ladies’ room with my thumb. “I’ll just…” I trailed off and skittered to the door, flattening myself against it once I got inside the bathroom.

  I swore I could still feel the intensity pulsing off Killian through the door. I jerked forward and frowned at the offensive object. Solid wood should have worked to keep out sexual hormones and intensity from badass ex-boyfriends who didn’t feel very ex.

  I walked on wooden legs to the mirror, squinting at my reflection. I never realized how hard it was to see yourself properly under fluorescent lights after a million shots and a soul-destroying kiss from the hottest guy on the planet.

  It took me a while to see a version of myself that wasn’t blurry. I had a huge urge to splash water on my face to try and cool down my flaming skin, but I didn’t think my makeup would like that. Somehow my red lipstick wasn’t smeared all over my face after Killian’s lips had been all over it. Thank the gods for everlasting, kiss-proof lipstick.

  I touched my scarlet lips, watching myself in the mirror. My face was flushed underneath my makeup and my eyes were wild. My hair was tumbling around my face, the pins holding it together failing at their job.

  I just hoped the stitches inside my body holding me together didn’t fail like those pins.

  The moment my lips had crashed against Killian, something unraveled and jolted inside me. Something that had already been rattled the second I’d laid eyes on him that day in the hospital.

  Something that signaled disaster.

  The buzzing of my phone was a blessed escape from feelings that were far too profound to have in the bathroom of club when I was drunk. Maybe that’s when the most profound thoughts were thought? Who knew.

  I expected a text from one of the boys, making sure I hadn’t fallen in or something.

  I had fallen.

  Hard.

  Who knew you could fall for someone twice? Once when you were young and naïve and love was a beautiful thing and falling was glorious. And a second time when you were older and knew better and the fall was full of pain and suffering and the result was still the same.

  All thoughts of what this meant drained from my murky brain the moment I opened the text message. Terror replaced them.

  It was a photo of Killian and me. One of us in my Jeep outside the gym yesterday. It was so clear I could see the pain and anger on my face and the love on Killian’s.

  Get rid of him. Or I will.

  That was the text accompanying the picture. It was from a blocked number.

  It was from him.

  Sobriety chased away the blanket of drunkenness, with terror being a good motivation to get my head on straight.

  Problem was, I couldn’t move and my hand starting shaking. I was trapped in my own body, in this fricking bathroom.

  “Breathe,” I told myself. A photo was not going to hurt me. And this reaction was exactly what he wanted.

  Logic told me that. But fear didn’t know logic. And it wasn’t myself that I was afraid for.

  It was Killian.

  Images of him in a pool of blood like Duke assaulted me, and I did my best to chase them away. They left the forefront of my mind, but they were still there, lurking.

  And so was the man intent on ruining my life, it seemed. I had a chilling realization that this would only end one way. In death.

  He paced the carpet outside the door Lexie had just disappeared behind, every muscle in his body screaming from how tight he was holding himself. All of his instincts urged him to storm into that bathroom and take what was his right there and then. Logic swayed him away from that action.

  He wouldn’t do that. Their first time in four years wasn’t going to be in some club with Lexie drunk off her beautiful ass.

  He needed her to be stone-cold sober when he took her. Needed those eyes to be clear when he looked into them while he pumped into her.

  His dick pulsed in protest. It had been rock-hard the second Lexie had pressed her lips to his.

  “Fuck,” he half yelled, running his hand through his hair.

  He turned when he saw a figure watching him. It was the kid who’d been talking to Lexie all night, despite his glares. Little fucker actually had some glares of his own to direct at Killian.

  He respected that. He was obviously a friend to Lexie and a part of her crew. Didn’t mean he liked how easy her smile was with him, how it lacked the pain it was etched in when she looked at Killian.

  “Can I help you?” Killian asked the kid when he didn’t say anything.

  Killian guessed he wasn’t much younger than him, twenty maybe. He seemed younger because of the fact he was small and lean. His face was free of the demons that came with real age, not the one that came with numbers, but the one that came with pain.

  The kid’s face hardened. “Just making sure Lexie’s okay,” he replied.

  Killian glared at him. “Wasn’t aware that was your job. You’re a sound guy or some shit. Stick to that. Let me worry about Lexie.”

  The kid stepped forward. “I’m Lexie’s friend. So it is actually my job to make sure she’s okay, especially when she hasn’t said a word about you in the year I’ve known her.”

  A muscle in Killian’s jaw ticked. He itched to plow his fist through this fucker’s face. But he had only just made some progress with Lexie, albeit when she was wasted, but it was something. He wasn’t going to ruin it.

  Killian’s head snapped around as the door he’d been focusing on prior to the kid’s arrival opened. Everything in him went wired as he noted Lexie’s face.

  He surged forward. “Freckles?” He tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

  Unshed tears flickered in her eyes. “What is it?” he growled.

  She looked back down, Killian followed her gaze to the screen she was staring at.

  He froze when he took in the image and her shaking hands. “Fuck,” he exploded.

  He caught himself when Lexie jumped at his tone. Struggling, he took a deep breath and carefully pulled the phone from her. His other hand cradled her head so her gaze met his once more. “He’s not gonna touch you, Freckles. I promise,” he said softly.

  She blinked rapidly. Then she broke his fucking heart. “I can live with him getting to me, but not if he got to you.”

  Killian couldn’t say a word. Every one of them was lost when she voiced concern for him, for fucking him, the man who broke her heart. He yanked her to his body, laying his lips on her head.

  For once, he actually feared the prospect of his own demise. Not because he was scared of death, because he couldn’t fucking stand the terror in Lexie’s eyes at the prospect becoming permanent.

  “Thanks officer,” I said, leaning against the door. I was dangerously close to being dead on my feet, but the heat at my back kept me upright.

  Felix gave me a kind look. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more assistance, Miss Williams. There’s little we can do with a blocked number, but I’ve got a uniform outside the property tonight and we’re working hard on finding the man who did this.”

  I nodded and smiled at him. “I know you are. Have a good night.”

  He nodded back. “Be safe, Miss Williams.”

  I closed the door and rested my forehead agains
t it for a second.

  “Freckles.” The voice was so close, his breath sent tingles down my spine as it caressed the back of my neck.

  Images of Killian’s mouth against mine and the taste of him hurtled into my exhausted mind.

  I turned, the movement an exertion. “You need to leave,” I whispered.

  Killian’s body was granite. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I wanted to scream in frustration. “He threatened you. He could hurt you. I’m not having that on my conscience. You need to go.”

  Killian’s eyes blazed. He surged forward, his presence imprinting itself on me. “I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated fiercely. “The only thing that could hurt me right now is leaving you with that fear in your eyes. I’m gonna take it away, I promise.” He lifted his hand to touch my cheek. “The only way that fucker can hurt me is if he hurts you, which I’ll spent every second making sure he doesn’t. Give my life gladly.” He paused. “But it won’t come to that. I’ve got too much to live for.” His eyes seared into mine, the meaning settling into my soul.

  I flinched away from his body, needing the distance, even it was just physical. His words had already entered my bloodstream.

  “I can’t, Killian,” I choked out, meeting his eyes. “Thanks to having to sober up quicker than is humane, I’m welcoming a headache that’s threatening to explode my skull. I’m tired. Exhausted. You know, there’s two kinds of tired. One where your body needs sleep and one when your soul needs peace.” I paused. “I need both, Kill. I can’t do…”—I gestured between us—“whatever this is right now. I just can’t.” My voice ended on a tortured whisper and Killian’s eyes, which had been hard with fury since he’d seen the picture, softened. We stood in silence, and I was afraid he wouldn’t move, that he’d torture me with his proximity.

  I sucked in a breath of relief as he stepped back. “I won’t rest, Lexie, till you get that peace. Till that fuckin’ fear leaves your eyes.” His hand moved to touch my face; then it fell to his side as if he thought better of it. He turned on his heel and walked away.