Deadly Secrets (Forever and a Night Book 3)

by Lana Campbell

  She’d made a choice, too, and this news sealed it. She would continue to pray for Chad to get it, but for now he had to be dead to her. Asa was her life, her heart, her future. She wasn’t about to let Chad compromise that, even from the distance of a prison cell. Asa deserved the entirety of her heart, and she intended to give it to him.

  She dropped her arm and pinned Wayne with an angry stare. “Well, I can’t help Chad anymore, guys. Chad’s bad choices and crimes caught up with him, and he’s going to have to pay for them. Sadly, the band will too. All of you probably have some hard thinking to do. Your roots, families, and friends are in Missouri. If you decide to go back, I wouldn’t blame you. If you decide to stay here, I’ll play with you, but my practice will always come first. Cajun’s and other gigs might not accept nights I have to be absent for a patient. So take that into consideration in your decision-making. Either way, no hard feelings.”

  All of them looked a little shell-shocked, but their time to worry about the future had expired. The present called. “We need to go in and get set up,” she reminded them softly.

  They nodded then silently headed for the back entrance, carrying burdens and worries they would each have to work through in their own way and time.

  Chapter 14

  Asa made good headway on getting thoroughly soused. He tapped his empty shot glass on the wood surface of the bar, gaining the bartender’s attention.

  Avery rolled his eyes and ran his finger through his spiky head of short blond hair, the ends tinged cobalt blue. It was a rather flamboyant gesture, and he was a flamboyant guy, but Asa had gotten used to him over the last few hours. The two of them were on a first name basis now. Hell, Asa even knew the name of the guy’s dog, Princess. Fitting, he thought, for a queen.

  Avery huffed, grabbed the nearly empty bottle of Jack off the shelf behind him, and made a miserly pour into Asa’s glass. “I’m cutting you off after this one, honey, and I’m doing you a favor. For heaven’s sake, I don’t know how you’re still sitting in an upright position.”

  “Whatever.” Asa snarled. The amount of liquor he’d consumed tonight was obscene and would have caused even the most dedicated human alcoholic to have passed out several shots ago. Asa was drunk, but a long way from where he wanted to be, because he still remembered her name.

  Avery sighed and planted a fist on his slim, leather-clad hip. “Asa, honey, I’m sorry for your troubles, but if that girl don’t see it, maybe she ain’t worth it.”

  Asa glared at him then snarled. “She’s worth it.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” Avery asked, throwing up his hands and giving Asa an are-you-crazy look.

  “It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

  Avery snorted and shook his head. “Trust me, I would, gorgeous. Seems every man who sits across from me has a complicated story, and you aren’t the first—nor will you be the last—man to sit at my bar pining over a lady who can’t get her priorities straight.”

  That was probably true in his profession, but not often in the traditional sense. Asa glanced to his right and sized up the “lady” sitting on the bar stool next to him wearing a blonde wig and a very low-cut burgundy dress, which accentuated his size D implants. His drag get-up wasn’t bad, but the five o’clock shadow he sported, paired with his miserable expression, ruined whatever look he was trying for.

  Asa felt sorry for him. “Know how you feel, mister.” He cleared this throat. “Ma’am,” he added for good measure. Asa wasn’t particularly alternatively educated and didn’t want to offend the guy.

  The man, lady—whatever—sniffed, nodded, then said, “Thanks. I heard. Hope you work it out with your girl.”

  “So why couldn’t you work it out with your girl?” Avery asked.

  Asa was just drunk enough to tell him. “Because she loves to lie, and there’s this asshole that she still has some sort of—” He paused there for the right word, but it wasn’t coming to him.

  “Some sort of what? She has thing for another guy?”

  “I don’t know. I know she’s not in love with him, but she can’t seem to quite shake feeling sorry for him. It makes no sense. He’s a violent, disgusting piece of shit.”

  “Hate to break it to you, honey, but those are the hardest to shake. All I have to say is if she loves you, then she’d put you first over any kind of empathetic feelings she might have for the creep.”

  “She’d damned well better. I haven’t talked to her in a couple of days. Maybe she’s come to her senses.”

  “Well there’s only one way to find out, gorgeous.”

  “What’s that?”

  Avery rolled his eyes. “Go talk to her, stupid. Lay down the law. Trust me, a girl loves a man’s man. One that can be tender yet strong, but solid in his convictions. Sounds to me like you are, but you haven’t told her you want to come first. Am I right?”

  Asa swiped a hand across his jaw, marinating on the guys advice. “Yeah. I haven’t had it in me to talk to her yet because I’m still too damned mad—and not just about this guy. She put herself in harm’s way with him in order to stick it to him. The sticking it to him part I admire her for. It’s that she felt bad doing so I can’t understand.”

  “Ahh.” Avery tapped his chin. “Sounds like she got cold feet because she was remembering the good times with him. That’s not so unusual. I broke up with this guy I’d been living with for two years because I caught him cheating on me. I took all his clothes, put them in a pile, and drenched them in bleach, then burned them. It felt good at the time, but later when it was all over, I felt childish. I should have just walked away with my head held high. He lost the best thing that ever happened to him. That should have been my sweet revenge. And it was. He tried to come crawling back, and I told him what he could do with that, you bet your sweet ass.”

  Asa smiled because the guy had a point. So had Mrs. Davenport when she’d said Chelsie had a tender compassionate heart. He’d never understand how she could have compassion for Chad after what that human had done to her. But at least now, thinking about it and talking to an outside party who knew nothing of his situation, he could understand her subterfuge in hauling Chad’s ass to Missouri. He would have done the same thing.

  “You’ll have to excuse me, honey, duty calls.” Avery walked off to take a drink order from another “lady” three barstools to his left.

  Asa knew he had much to think about, but in his current condition, nothing would be settled in his mind tonight. He needed to go home, sleep it off, and perhaps tomorrow would give him a fresh perspective.

  How he’d wandered into a gay bar was a mystery, but the name should have been a clue: Short of Straight. Even sober, when he’d hit the French Quarter his thinking had been addled because he was miserable without Chelsie. What made him imagine liquor could clarify things was a downright stupid act of desperation.

  “Avery!” he yelled out over the loud music that was pummeling his soused brain like a jackhammer.

  Avery came back to him wearing a reproving scowl. “I mean what I said, honey. I’m cutting you off.”

  “Fair enough. Tab me out and keep the change,” Asa said. He wrestled his wallet out of his jeans pocket and slapped a couple Benjamins on the counter for the disgusting amount he’d racked up.

  Avery’s kohl-lined eyes brightened with appreciation at the sizable tip attached. “I wish you the best, gorgeous,” he purred, “but if things don’t work out with your lady, you know where I’ll be.” He winked at Asa and shot him a meaningful smile.

  Asa growled at him, tossed back the remainder of his shot, then strode out of the gay club. He glanced down the people-packed sidewalk, toward the bar he really wanted to be in tonight.

  Considering the mood he was in—had been in for the last two days—he knew the wisest choice would be to flag down a cab and go home.

  Liquor tended to suck the “wise” out of most people. Asa found himself to be no exception.

  He looked back down the si
dewalk, then started walking, weaving his way between the throng of chattering, laughing people, most of whom were far drunker than he. Normal for nearly one in the morning in the French Quarter on a Saturday night.

  He could hear her beautiful voice a half block away, coming from Cajun Refugees. The song she sang was a sad ballad, about lost love. Like a siren, her voice kept pulling him forward, when he knew nothing good could come from seeing her right now. He was in no frame of mind to talk to her.

  Just a glimpse, he told himself. Then he would go home.

  Asa walked in, paid the cover charge to the guy at the door, then stood there and drank in the vision of her on the stage. Tonight, she wore jeans, shiny black cowboy boots, and a smoking, low-cut, black, sleeveless shirt with multi-colored sequins. She’d curled her hair, creating dozens of ringlets that trailed down her back and across her shoulders. A couple of times during the song, she’d flip one over her shoulder. He found the gesture utterly sexy.

  There was such beauty and passion in her voice as she sang—pain too. It radiated off of her, merged with his own, and tore at his soul like steel talons.

  The gist of the song was about two lovers who had once had it all, yet missed their chance because they’d failed to recognize the rich gift given them. The irony cut another fresh slice across his shredded heart. He wondered who had been on her mind during the song, him or Chad. The notion took another punch at his bruised ego. He turned to leave.

  “Hey. About time you decided to show up to support Chelsie. Where were you last night?”

  Asa gave a start, his gaze cutting to the right. Christian stood frowning at him, arms over his chest. “Look, if it’s a lecture on your mind, save it. I’m in no mood, Chris.”

  Christian wrinkled his nose and gave him a once over. “Damn, Asa. Did you fall into a vat of whiskey, or did it fall into you?”

  “Probably a little of both.” He grinned like the drunken slob he was at the moment.

  Christian laughed and shook his head. “Well, come join me and Tiffany. I think the band’s about to break. I know you’re dying to talk to Chels.”

  “No. Not now. Not yet.” The sight of her made him more confounded than ever. A good deal of hurt seasoned that confusion. He loved her, more than he thought possible to love another person. But he was greedy, selfish too, because he refused to share her heart with Chad. Even if the miserable bastard only possessed a tiny sliver of her pity, it would be too much. Like a virus, it would infect both of their lives.

  He still couldn’t fathom how she’d felt guilt over putting Chad’s ass in jail. It’s where he belonged. Why was it so difficult for her to see that fact? She should be rejoicing, not pining over sticking it to the son of a bitch.

  “Suck it up, Asa. So she felt bad about seeing the guy go to jail? You know how soft-hearted she is. You can’t fault her for that.”

  “I don’t want to, but I do. I think Tiffany was right about her still having some residual feelings for the creep. She may not want them, but if they’re lingering inside her, it can mean nothing good for us.”

  Christian shook his head and planted a hand on his hip. “Yeah, I’m still a little raw at Tiffany myself for saying what she did the other day. I believe it to be bull, honestly. Chelsie has a very strong spiritual streak, like her mother. I know Mia well. Chelsie not so much, but if she’s like her mom, she probably believed the guy could be saved. I mean, in the Christian sense. Whatever the case, it’s not like she’d ever get back together with him. She’s had ample opportunity. She cut her ties with Chad and made new ones with you. So don’t be a frickin’ idiot. Quit your pouting and go kiss the girl.”

  His friend’s words had merit, and maybe he was just drunk enough to heed them. During their conversation, the band had broken, and Chelsie was now seated at a table in the front talking to Tiffany. She ventured a glance his way and smiled. It was a beguiling one that tied a knot in his gut. He returned a halfhearted one.

  Hell. Christian was right. He was being an idiot. Even if Christian was wrong and she still had feelings for Chad, he damned well intended to grind them into the dust. Determination and good ol’ Jack Daniels took hold of him. He headed across the packed bar straight for her. He imagined pulling her out of that chair and kissing her like he’d never kissed her before, leaving them both breathless and horny as hell, leaving any feelings she might still have for Chad a trail of dust in a windstorm.

  She must have sensed what he had in mind, because she gained her feet and smiled at him with anticipation. I love you, she mouthed at him.

  He spoke his own words to her mind as he covered the short remaining distance. I love you too. Come here.

  He was mere feet from her, about to pull her into his arms when he heard a loud pop sound over the piped music. Simultaneously, a sharp, hot burning sensation began to spread through his chest, winding him. Vampire instinct kicked in, and he scented, picking up the disgusting smell of that human, Chad. His gaze homed in on him, standing at the front of the stage with a gun in his hand, a vile, evil grin on his face. A tiny mist of smoke filtered out of the barrel of the weapon.

  Asa looked down and saw blood on the front of his shirt and knew he’d been shot. Strangely, there wasn’t all that much pain. As a doctor, he realized why. His body was already in the process of going into shock.

  Things were happening too fast, and his mind couldn’t sort them. People were screaming, tearing past him, and tossing over tables and chairs in their haste to flee the bar.

  He knew the shot had punctured a lung, because he couldn’t draw a full breath and he tasted blood. Dark spots began to dance in front of his eyes. That and lack of oxygen skewed his equilibrium. He stumbled back, then forward, and fell to his knees. A second after that, he hit the floor facedown and heard Chelsie scream his name. His first thought was to tell her to run like hell, because more shots rang out, but a second later she hit the floor in front of him. Tiffany too. Christian was on top of the two women in a flash, and he knew what his friend had done. Asa was thankful for his quick thinking.

  Blackness started to take him under, and his heartrate was so labored and erratic, he knew death was seconds away. There was nothing he could do save himself. Using his last burst of energy, he reached out to her mind. I love you, Chelsie.

  The next instant, darkness swallowed him whole.

  Chapter 15

  “Asa!” Chelsie cried. She couldn’t believe the insanity happening before her eyes. Asa had been shot!

  When she heard his voice in her mind seconds ago, telling her he loved her, the fatalist tone in his words had sliced her to the bone. One moment Asa stood smiling at her, the next he stumbled back and the white shirt he wore bloomed red in the center, a small ring about the size of a tennis ball.

  She spun toward the stage where the gunshot seemed to have originated, horrified to see Chad standing near the back entrance holding a gun. He looked so proud of himself, and the surreal evil in his expression stole her breath.

  Oh, my God! The deranged bastard was actually grinning at her!

  This could not be happening!

  Her first though was: How in the hell had he made bail? Her next was for Asa. She turned toward him, but he no longer stood in front of her. He’d collapsed, face down on the floor. She noticed a sizable, crimson, bloody hole on the left side of his shirt near to the center of his back, gaining more blood—the exit wound. The bullet must have gone clean though, and Chelsie knew it had sliced a path through his chest, too damned close to his heart. There weren’t words to describe the fear that took hold of her in that instant.

  More shots rang out. An instant later, she hit the bar floor, so fast the breath whooshed out of her lungs. Tiffany landed beside her with a thump and a curse. Christian had grabbed them both at the same time and shoved them to the floor seconds after Asa fell, doing his best to cover them both with his own body.

  “Stay down!” Christian barked then scrambled to his feet and exploded with vampire speed acros
s the dance floor onto the stage.

  Tiffany ignored his edict and bolted after Christian. Chelsie’s human eyes couldn’t follow their series of movements in a blow-by-blow concession. Best she could conceive, Chad was standing there and after she blinked, Christian was plowing into Chad like a linebacker. The force sent the two men flying straight into the drum set. It shattered, parts of it flying everywhere. Seconds after that, Tiffany straddled Chad’s chest, repeatedly plowing her fist into his face. Christian emerged from the midst of the decimated drum set then peeled Tiffany off Chad.

  At that point, Chelsie didn’t care anymore. Chad was contained. She dropped to her knees beside Asa and, with great effort, rolled him over. She sucked in three huge breaths for focus. Right now, this wasn’t Asa, she told herself. This was a gunshot victim.

  He was bleeding out. The bullet had hit an artery; maybe it had pierced his heart, God only knew, but she could see he was bleeding profusely. Actually, that was a good thing—temporarily. No one could bleed for very long without a heartbeat. Next, she checked for a carotid pulse and breathing.

  “Pulse, erratic, weak. Shallow breaths. Not good. Oh, Asa.” How could this have happened?

  She took hold of the front edges of Asa’s button-up shirt and ripped it open to get a look at the exact location of the entry point, which was on the left side, slight of the sternum. The entrance wound, oozing blood, looked to be centimeters lower than the location of the vampire heart, which was generally about a third larger than a human’s. With her own heart sinking, she assessed his situation, which promised some serious, if not fatal, damage.