I lost myself in the vision . . . and then my office door banged open.
“Please stop sending people to check on me.” Lynx tripped through the doorway, not tipsy but full-on loaded. Her ass hit the floor and she curled up into a ball, the flimsy white tank she wore hugging her figure. “Please,” she repeated from the fetal position, her dark nipples poking through the tank.
Shit, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Did she just walk through the club like that?
My mind warred with my body. I wanted to stomp out to the club floor and smack anyone who’d looked at her like that.
Sampson poked his head around the door. “Sorry, boss, but she shoved her way to the front of the line and demanded to see you. Luckily, I was there. Brought her through the back, but she slipped away from me.”
“It’s fine.” I stood from my chair and walked toward the broken woman on the floor, now half-crying, half-laughing. I picked Lynx up and ran my hand down her back. “Shhh, babe.”
She squirmed for a beat or two and then settled her head on my chest. “It hurts when they talk to me about you,” she muttered.
“Go ahead, shut the door,” I told Sampson. “I don’t want to be bothered.”
He nodded and walked out.
“I want you to move on,” she murmured. “But there you are, always looming. Mike’s not doing well. He’s worried about you. Mike puts on a tough face . . . don’t they know your name is Michael?”
Although slurred, her words warmed me up, coating me in a parka I didn’t know I needed.
I sat on the sofa, keeping Lynx in my lap. She smelled like tequila and the beach.
Moving her braids aside, I whispered in her ear. “Babe, you need to calm down. I’m worried about you, but I’m not going to ever stop doing that.”
She shook her head against my chest. “You have to stop.”
I ran my hand down her back. Tremors shook her as my fingers made their way over her damp tank, goose bumps forming in their tracks. She sucked in a breath at my touch.
“That’s like telling my heart to stop beating. I can’t not check on you. Knowing you’re alive and surviving is oxygen to me.”
“Marta’s good. Better for you,” Lynx mumbled, placing her hand on my arm.
“She’s not. I’m not saying she isn’t a good woman and that I don’t care for her. I do. But she’s not you, and she knows that. Always knew that.”
“Why is she so nice to me? I’m nothing but garbage.”
“You’re not garbage. Don’t ever say those words again. They hurt me in a way you’ll never know. Let’s not talk about this. You’re wasted, and the alcohol is jumbling your mind.”
Her fingers lingered on my forearm, finally shoving up the sleeve of my shirt and tracing my tattoo, her red-painted nail running along the cursive C. It was hypnotic.
“Michael,” she whispered before passing out in my arms.
That was pretty much how I spent the night, sitting up on the couch of my office as Lynx slept in my arms. It was the best night I’d had in a long fucking time.
LYNX WOKE up groggy and not at home. Her body ached and her throat was drier than sandpaper. Her palm caught along her leg, slightly fresh cuts of her own doing scratching her smooth skin.
Opening her eyes and looking up, she found Michael staring back at her. Quickly taking in her surroundings, she realized she was at the Wave.
His hand found her back. “Morning.”
She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath, unable to make sense of why she was waking up in the Wave, in Mike’s arms no less. Had he slept like that all night? Sitting up?
“This can’t be good,” she murmured.
“It’s better than good. You had a bad night, and you came to me. That’s what you should do.”
She shook her head and tried to squirm out of Mike’s grasp, but he held her tight. Not painfully so, just enough to hold her in place.
“Mike,” she said, the word coming out rough.
“Michael,” he said, correcting her.
“I need to go.”
He shook his head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and after we get some breakfast in you, then you can roll.”
Lynx tried, but she couldn’t help her hand from moving to his cheek, and ran her knuckles over his scruff. “We can’t.”
His forehead met hers. “We can.”
“Why? I’m a mess.”
“I don’t care. Loved you since we first met and plan to love you forever, messy or not. Since the night on the balcony, Lynx.”
“Mike.”
“Michael.”
“Please . . .”
“Not this time. I let you scam me for years. Working the streets, leaving the country. Now you’re back and no more scamming. I want you to do everything you want, be anything you want . . .” Except sell your body. “But first I want to feed you.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and sniffed back tears. His hand moved slowly up and down her back, and a chill ran up her spine when her sheer tank lifted, exposing her tattoo. She reached back to yank her top down, but felt Mike’s finger cresting the wave on her back.
“This is new,” he said softly, his words catching in his throat.
She nodded.
“Is it our waves? The ones we watched while you were tucked tight in my arms?”
Lynx nodded again, but she didn’t tell him about the hidden words. The moment was already too emotional.
Mike patted her back and urged her to sit up, then stood and reached out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get some food in you.”
Seated in Mike’s work SUV a few minutes later as they drove away from the club, Lynx asked, “Can I go home and change?” She pressed the button to lower the window, breathing deeply of the salty air that rushed inside the vehicle.
“You’d have to tell me where that is.”
“You mean you don’t know?” she asked, her voice raspy from the night before.
Mike glanced at her. “I could’ve, but I didn’t ask. I let it be for you.”
She nodded. “The Ocean Towers. Asher set it up. Of course.”
He nodded and drove in the direction of the exclusive high-rise on the opposite side of the beach from his.
“I’m sorry I barged in last night.” Lynx cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t turn to you. I don’t deserve you, but it’s all getting to me—”
“Babe . . .”
“No, don’t say anything. I need to admit I messed up. I went on this one-woman mission, ended up selling my body and my soul. Now, I’m a mess. And I’m being kept by Asher’s money.”
“He’s got a big heart. I can’t let you say that.”
“I know, and Natalie has him by the balls, so he has to. But everyone . . . everyone won’t stop talking about you. Even Marta—”
“Marta? She’s not bugging you, is she?” He turned toward her, his eyes searching for the truth.
“No. She wants me to be with you, take care of you, accept you accepting me. Which is crazy. I’m nothing but a washed-up whore.” A single tear fell and dropped onto her tank.
Mike swerved off to the side of the road, slamming the SUV into park before pushing his hand behind her braids and pulling her face close. “Don’t ever fucking say that again. You fucking hear me? You saved your sister.”
Lynx shook her head. “No, Landon did.”
“It’s in the rearview, Lynx. You’re out and safe. Samara is out and safe. It’s time to look forward.”
She couldn’t even look at him. With her gaze fixed out the window, he checked his mirror and pulled out into traffic.
I PACED the sidewalk in front of Lynx’s building. Thank fuck she asked me to wait outside. My blood was boiling over, anger and hatred rolling off me in monsoon-sized waves.
Washed-up whore . . .
I slid my finger across my phone and found Carson’s contact. Pressing it, I paced impatiently as I waited for him to answer.
“What’s up, Big Mikey?”
Of course, he answered like shit was coming up roses. And for him, it was—I couldn’t begrudge him that.
“I need another favor.”
“Name it.”
Setting my pride aside for the millionth time, I said, “I thought if I gave Lynx space, she’d come around. She’s not. She’s wallowing in self-pity, and it’s getting unbearable. I need to do something. Now.”
“She’s been through a lot. Lila didn’t see half the shit Lynx did, and she was messed up for a long time. You can’t rush her.”
“I can’t stand by and watch it anymore. I’m sick of being some innocent bystander, so I’m calling in backup. I need you to find her some PTSD shrink, a good one. Someone that isn’t going to let her quit so easily, and then I need Lila and Nat to come and convince her to do it. They need to talk or whatever it is they do, and tell her it’s time.”
“You can’t force her, Mike.”
I kicked the shit out of my tire, not giving two fucks I was ruining my shoe. “I am and I will.”
He exhaled into the phone. “I’ll talk with Landon and see who he recommends. He’s got to know a person or two. But you need to call Lila yourself. You’ve been ignoring her, and she’s good and pissed. No way am I asking her for you and getting myself in the doghouse. Ask her about the new baby and butter her up.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. I knew she’d be mad—I’d forced my way into her problems years ago. Of course she’d expect to be intimately involved in mine.
Running my hand over my head, I agreed to call Lila and disconnected the call.
I stared at my reflection in the car window. I was a mess—dark circles under my eyes, and fucked-up, unruly hair—but I didn’t care. I’d take better care of myself when Lynx was better.
My pulse raced . . . where the hell was she?
Staring up at the building, I decided to give her five more minutes, and then I was busting my way in there.
Apartment 1203. Of course I fucking knew where she lived; I just wasn’t stupid enough to tell her. It wasn’t a huge deal. Asher had eyes on those two, and I was privy to every freaking move—the gym, Marta wading in when she shouldn’t have, and stupid Samara sneaking off to see the goddamn federal agent, Landon. I needed to know like I needed oxygen.
My feet tore up the sidewalk, marching me toward the building’s front entrance, when Lynx reappeared wearing a loose white tank and jean cutoffs, her braids framing her face. On her feet were all-white Air Force 1s, the same pair I’d bought for her way back when. It must mean something . . .
“Ready?”
She nodded and climbed into my SUV, refusing my help and using the running board.
“You up for the diner? Or you want something nicer along the beach?”
I’d take her anywhere she wanted to go, but I got the sense she needed to feel in control. I’d let her have that small morsel.
“Diner’s good. I’m not really in the mood to see and be seen.”
My glare could have killed; I felt my own vicious stare mocking me from the windshield. I was getting sick of Lynx putting herself down, and was no longer willing to allow her to decide.
So much for letting her have some control . . .
“On second thought, let’s go to News Café.”
“Oh, so you pick the most popular place on South Beach, the place every Tom, Dick, and Harry wants to eat at because Versace ate there before he was shot?”
“Yeah, I like it there. And fuck it, you look worthy of being seen.”
No one ever said I was nice.
“How’s school?” I asked, changing the subject. My mind was made up, and she knew it.
“I’m liking it. It keeps my mind busy. Thinking about asking Asher for a waitressing job. Marta said I should come to the club, and I thought it was a stupid idea at first, but then thought about how I hate being home . . .”
A growl bubbled in my chest, but I did my best to tamp it down. “It’s my club, babe. You can ask me.”
“Would you say yes?”
“Nope.”
“That’s why I’m going to ask Ash. He’ll say yes.”
I shook my head in disbelief, annoyance rushing through my veins, anger boiling in my blood. “Lynx, you’re not waiting tables in my club. You want a job? Get an internship or apply at one of the boutiques. You’ve spent enough time with your goods on display.”
“I thought you ran a reputable place.”
“I do, but you’re fucking mine. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been holding my heart in a bulletproof case for you since you disappeared. I put up with certain shit before, and now I’m not.”
“You didn’t really,” she said, stumbling over her words.
“Didn’t really what? Put up with certain shit? Damn straight I did.” My blood pressure was shooting up, pressure pounding in my temples. This whole lazy morning was heading in a direction I didn’t like.
“I mean, you didn’t exactly hold all of your heart.” She flicked her hair behind her, the whooshing mimicking the air rushing out of my lungs.
“No, not exactly,” I said in self-disgust. “It wasn’t a smart thing, but Marta knew the score and I was lonely. Fuck it, I was an ass, lonely or not.”
“I don’t really care. No one, including me, knew if I was ever coming back. Now, I’m back and I’m a mess.”
“I care,” I said in a whisper that came out hoarse. “I knew it was wrong. Felt it deep in my gut, but part of me wanted to save Marta in a way I didn’t save you.”
“Whatever. Plus, you put up with all that other certain stuff, so I guess we’re even,” she said, tossing my own words back at me.
My truck veered right into the curb as I yanked it over. “Don’t whatever me. I hate myself for doing it. Probably will never forgive myself. And if you don’t, I get it.”
“Well, it’s not like I wasn’t with Zayid, so it doesn’t matter.”
“He was a job. A mission to find Sammy. Marta was more . . . I cared for her. Not in the same way I love you, but she was—”
“Is,” Lynx said, correcting me.
“Is a friend, and she knew where my heart belonged. With you.”
I traced her jawline with my thumb, my hand shaking. “I know what you’re doing, this push-pull shit. You’re not damaged goods, or whatever you’ve talked yourself into believing.”
Her gaze remained cast downward, but I could feel her pulse beating throughout her body.
“You’re a beautiful woman, even more beautiful on the inside, life beating vibrantly through you. And you’re mine.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I was sick of waiting.
Wanting.
Begging.
Searching.
Leaning in, I replaced my thumb with my lips, running the length of her jaw and back, up her cheek and over her lips. Closed mouth, my lips melded to hers, and I inhaled deeply, breathing my fill.
Our mouths remained closed but something passed between us—a silent promise to make it right. My hand itched to run the length of her bare arm, and my body longed to pull her over the console and on top of me, but I didn’t do either. I kept my hand on her chin and my lips fused to hers. I’d take the crumbs.
“Michael,” she whispered, the sound like medicine to my soul.
“Lynx, we’re going to fix this, I swear.” My breath caressed her cheek. “One day, not long from now, you’re going to be married to me, my baby in your belly, eating ice cream in bed and laughing like none of this ever happened, your past only a distant memory and a bright future ahead of you. Swear to fucking God, a god I don’t even believe in, babe. It’s going to be so good, our life.”
A tear slipped from her eye, and I kissed it away. “C’mon, let’s go eat. Enough of the sadness.”
I was done being gentle. It was time I took charge and pushed us in the right direction. So what if talk of babies and marriage was too much, or if I was coming on too strong—I was Michael Wind, destined for greatness. Fuck it
all to hell.
Seated in a booth at News Café—with blue water to the horizon outside, and tourists and locals rushing in and out—I ordered an unsweetened iced tea, egg whites and spinach, and toast. Lynx opted for coffee, grapefruit, and some kind of fruit-covered oatmeal.
She was quiet while we waited for our food, and I let her have that moment, making small talk and people watching.
“Feel better?” I asked after she’d taken a few bites.
“Yeah, I needed some food in my system.”
“What’s your plan for today? Classwork? Gym?”
“Not much. Probably yoga, hang with Sam, make dinner.”
“We should go see Chantilly. She’s been worried about you.”
“Where is she?”
“At Asher’s house, the one I used to stay at. I set her up there with her daughter when Bruno went fucking crazy.”
Lynx’s brow wrinkled as she muttered, “Bruno.”
“You haven’t heard from him, have you?”
She shook her head. “Pretty sure he’s long gone, or I would have. I wonder what he’s up to, or if he’s worried about me.”
“Good choice for him to be long gone. He wasn’t going to make it here, not with Carson and Landon involved now.”
“He didn’t mean to get me involved.”
“Lynx, I mean it. Leave the past in the rearview. I don’t want to hear you defend Bruno. I can’t. You have to understand what that does to me. He put you in the worst place possible, stole you right out from under me.”
Her eyes stayed fixed on her coffee. “It’s just I needed to find Samara. I don’t know, I was all messed up. She’s my only blood.”
“Maybe so, but now you’re going to live life. Maybe talk to someone?”
She shook her head.
“How’s Nat?” I asked, changing the subject again.
“She’s good. Busy with Quinn, keeping Asher calm. I miss her and Quinn. They were such a big part of my life. I haven’t met the babies, Lillie and Parker, either.”
“We should go see them all. Maybe Lila and Carson could meet us in Vegas for a weekend?”
“Maybe. I can’t think about it now. It’s too much. Jeez, I can’t even.”
Tinged (The Electric Tunnel Book 3) Page 10