by Gia Riley
This time, he smacks me on the back of the head like Lark’s always doing to him. It’s a wonder he doesn’t have brain damage with all the stupid shit that comes out of his mouth. Though he’s completely serious when he says, “Cut the shit or I’m sending you a subscription for Christmas.”
“I’d really prefer Ladies Home Journal. I’m a sucker for all those recipes.”
Dom hands us both a beer, even though it’s his birthday and we’re supposed to be buying. “Are you two done acting like princesses?”
We’re both stunned to silence when Dom leads us to a table down front, exactly where I don’t want to be. While their eyes are transfixed on the stage, their commentary is just as colorful. I’m sitting all of ten minutes, not even watching what’s going on in front of me, when I hear the song. The song that turned Lola’s into complete chaos the last time I was here.
Even though it kills me to watch, I raise my head to look at the stage. Just like before, she walks onto the stage with a halo on top of her head, her body draped in white silk fabric as a fog machine makes it look like she’s falling from Heaven straight into Hell.
“Holy shit,” Dom mutters, making it even harder to sit here and not do anything about it.
Her long blond hair is almost white, the strands cascading down her back and over her shoulder. Almost everything is the same as the last time I saw her, only her eyes are a little more sunken in and the light they used to radiate has been completely snuffed out.
“Looks like we got ourselves an angel,” Easton says as he sits up a little straighter, already appreciating the view.
I grind my teeth, taking a few deep breaths before standing and climbing the stairs to the stage. She stays in character until I’m a few steps away, the lights no longer blinding her view of the people around her.
The second our eyes meet, it’s like we’re ten years younger, our worlds a much different place. “Lane, what are you doing?”
My security team shifts toward the stage, waiting for my cue that I need them. This is one battle I’ve handled on my own. I’m not about to get them involved in my personal life. Midnight Fate has always been free of the past, and I’m not about to taint it with old memories now.
The bouncers from Lola’s aren’t as forgiving or nice. They latch onto my arms, ready to take me to the ground if I make one wrong move or get closer to her. Finally, she snaps out her daze, telling them, “It’s okay. I’m not scared of him.”
“Who is he?” they ask her.
“Someone I’ve spent a lot of time trying to forget.”
“Some things never change,” I tell her, in a voice low enough that only she can hear me. The sleazy song she dances to cuts off and the silence that replaces it is deafening. Other than a few encouraging catcalls and a couple angry men, most people mistake my getting on stage as claiming her for my own enjoyment. I’m nothing more than a jealous boyfriend trying to get his girl off stage.
They’d keep their mouths shut if they knew the whole story. A story that’s lasted most of our lives, thanks to this fucked-up little town. I’m almost positive Lemon’s so scarred, she’s either been high, drunk, or unconscious more days than she’s been sober.
“What do you want?” she asks me, her eyes only semi-focused on mine. They’re looking at me, but it’s like she doesn’t grasp that this isn’t one of her dreams or hallucinations. I’m standing right in front of her. And I’m not going anywhere until she gets off the stage.
There’s never been a day that I haven’t thought about her, wondering if she were on the streets or someplace safe. If she overdosed or managed to stay clean long enough to see the sun without being high. All the little things I’ve been taking for granted are some of her biggest accomplishments. But I did her so wrong when I left, even if her addictions almost killed me instead of her. “Leave with me, Lemon.”
“Why?”
“Because being here makes me sick.”
“Lane, I can’t go with you.”
I rub my open palm across my chest, the only move powerful enough to get her attention. My hand stays over my heart until her eyes flicker with so much pain I can see the turmoil inside her. The devil’s telling her to stay and dance while the angel she wishes she could be instead encourages her to take the free pass I’m offering.
When she takes half a step toward me, I hold out my hand for her to take. Like we’ve done so many times before, her slim fingers slide into my palm and she lets me lead her someplace safe.
Maybe I should have learned my lesson the million times I’ve been burned, but without a shadow of a doubt, I’ll never stop wanting to save her.
Now that I have her, I don’t wait for Dom or Easton to catch up. I don’t even worry about finding the girls in the theater next door. All I care about is getting Lemon as far away from Lola’s as possible.
It’s only when we’re in the back of a cab that she asks, “Where are you taking me?”
Considering home for her could be someone else’s dirty floor, there are really only two places I can take her—my condo or the hospital. “That depends how much shit you’re on and when you’re going to need more of it.”
Since we don’t even make it around the block before she’s reaching for the door handle, she might not be as fucked up as I thought. If she were, she’d either be asleep or so strung out she wouldn’t even think to get away from me.
“I’m not like I used to be—or at least I’m trying to do better. Since Trey’s been locked up, it’s pretty peaceful around here.”
“They should have killed that asshole when they had the chance.”
“He’s clean.”
“You’ve been seeing him?” After how hard I worked to keep him away from her, the last thing I want to hear is her falling right back in love with him. She knows he’s dangerous and a worthless piece of shit.
“He mostly writes me. I don’t have a car of my own to visit him like he wants me to. Sometimes he sends his brother to pick me up when needs me.”
When he needs her. “Goddamn it, Lemon. When will you see him for what he is? He’s destroying you.”
“No, he’s not the one who destroyed me, Lane. You know that, so don’t blame it on Trey. He loves me, and he’s capable of being a decent human being.”
If I could bash my head against the window and not shatter it, I’d do it. That’s how frustrated I am that she can’t see her life for what it is—complete and total shit. If she knew what was beyond Sea Port, she’d take the first bus out of here and never look back. But you can’t want what you don’t know exists, and that’s the case for Lemon.
“What happens when they let Trey out of jail? Nothing’s changed in this town. He’ll go right back to leading the pack, and you’ll be back at his mercy like you’ve always been.”
“So what?”
“Can you honestly say you aren’t tired of it yet?”
“We’re not all millionaires, Lane. Some of us common folk have to work for what we have. You left us behind. That was your choice—Sea Port is mine.”
Un-fucking-believable. That’s the only way I can describe it. “I’ve tried to find you.”
“I know you have,” she says, with little concern for my feelings.
“You do?”
“Yeah, it was the reason I moved.”
Disgusted, I can’t even stand to look at her. All those nights I stayed up late and woke up early, trying my best to make the calls I thought would lead me to her. All of them came up empty because it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t think they’re lost. “He’s turned you into such a bitch and you don’t even care. You just suck his dick and let him order you around like you’re some whore who will do whatever it takes to get what you want.”
“I’m a fucking professional, Lane. I have a career and I work hard.” She inches across the seat until she’s so close all I smell is the alcohol on her breath. “I’m the best in the damn state. That’s why he wants me and nobody else.”
; “With the worst reputation. He wants you because you’re easy, Lemon. Not because he respects you.”
She shrugs like it’s one and the same to her. “Fuck you.”
Even though she’s pissed at me, I still can’t hate her. She’s at least ten pounds lighter than the last time I saw her; her skin’s so pale, it’s clear she still sleeps all day and hasn’t seen any real sunshine in forever. She needs help.
“Are you hungry?”
Still staring out her window, she asks, “Are you taking me to dinner?”
If she weren’t dressed like a stripper, I might consider it “No, but if you want something, I’ll get it for you.”
“I’m not hungry. All I really want are some answers. Why did you show up tonight, Lane? You know how it went the last time you tried to play the hero.”
My real reason for being there was Dom, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t prepared to run into Lemon. This isn’t how I wanted the night to go, even if it means she’s not parading around naked in front of men who will never appreciate her the way she deserves. I’m honest with her when I tell her, “Because no matter how many times you try to hide from me, I still care about you.”
“Get in line,” she says with a disgusted laugh.
She may think I’m like all the others in her life, but in her heart she knows the truth. I’m all she’s ever had—and once I finally give up on her, she’ll really be on her own. She’ll know what true loneliness feels like.
Will that make her change her mind? No. Come sunrise, she’ll still try to disappear like she usually does. Running and hiding is the only life Lemon’s ever known.
Gina staggers out of the theater, all the alcohol she smuggled inside in her purse finally catching up to her. I’ve seen girls drink, but she could keep time with men double her size. “Tis a gift,” she says as she points to the sky. “‘Cause Jesus loves me.”
Reed snickers before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He’s usually all business, but it was nice to see him having a little fun tonight, even if he wasn’t supposed to.
But I’ve seen the look on his face before. It’s the same shocked expression he had when he couldn’t get to me last night. He’s used to looking over his shoulder, scouring crowds and unsuspecting people, while I’m still trying to get used to the idea that people could actually want to harm my boyfriend. I’m scared when I ask him, “What’s wrong?” but I want to know anyway.
“It’s nothing, Miss Noelle.”
I reach for his arm, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t lie to me, Reed. It’s something. I think we’ve been through enough together that you can trust me with the truth.”
“This is my job, and if I do it right, you’ll never have anything to worry about.”
I want to believe him, but when I don’t see all three guys waiting for us by the limo, I start to wonder what’s going on. With each step we take, the two silhouettes morph into Easton and Dom, Lane still nowhere in sight.
“You girls ready?” Easton asks as he holds out his hand for Lark. She leans in and sniffs him like someone may have claimed her territory while she was gone.
“What are you doing?” he asks her, an amused smile on his face.
“Checking for lap dances. With this pregnancy nose, I can smell cheap perfume from a mile away.”
He raises their joined hands, kissing the back of it before telling her, “Baby, I have you and a little nugget on the way. I don’t need anyone else to rock my world when your horny little ass is all over me every night.”
She gasps, looking over her shoulder to see if we all heard him, which we clearly did. “Easton, filter!”
Gina giggles as she jumps onto Dom’s back, the two of them so equally wasted it’s a wonder he doesn’t lose his balance and fall over. “You get any birthday ass, babe?”
He spins her in a circle, making me dizzy just watching. “I’m hoping for some when we get home, baby.”
While everyone else goes on with their night like my boyfriend isn’t suddenly missing, Easton notices my concern and slows down. When I catch up, he hesitantly smiles at me like I have every reason to be worried. It does nothing to ease my fears.
“Where is he?”
He pauses long enough to toss more doubt into my mind. “He had some business to take care of. He left over an hour ago.”
I can’t figure out why he wouldn’t have texted me before he left so I didn’t worry, especially after what happened at the concert last night. I would have left and gone anywhere he wanted. “What kind of business?”
“He didn’t say, but it looked pretty important.”
By this point, I’m so tired of vague responses I lose my shit a little bit more than I should. I’m anything but pleasant when I say, “Cut the shit, Easton. You’re Lane’s best friend and you’re married to mine. I trust you to be honest with me.”
Lark wraps her arm around me after seeing how emotional I’m getting. She also looks to her husband for answers. “East? What’s going on?”
He glances between me and Lark, a pained expression overshadowing the cool confidence he usually carries around with him. “We were there five or ten minutes before he walked up on stage, took some blonde by the hand, and left. From the little I saw, they had history.”
Even though there’s a limo waiting to take us all home, I walk over to the line of waiting cabs, standing by the first one I come to. “Which one of you drives this thing?”
Three men turn around, eyeing me from head to toe. The youngest tosses his cigarette on the ground, letting the smoke waft through the air instead of stepping on it to put it out. “I’ve got you, gorgeous.”
I pull my tight skirt down as far as it will go and tug on my top, wishing it showed a little less cleavage. The guy I wore this for left with someone else.
“Where to?” he asks in his thick New York accent after helping me into the backseat. I’ve only taken a cab once in my life and it was in Manhattan on a busy summer day. Out here in the middle of nowhere Jersey, it’s scarier than I remember it being.
All my stuff’s still at Lane’s, but right now, that’s the last place I want to go. With a shaky voice, I make a split-second decision. “I’ll pay you double if you take me to Pennsylvania.”
Like he just hit the jackpot, he nods and smiles. “For that kind of money, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. California, or even Mexico—I’m at your service.”
“Just take me home,” I whisper, as my first trip to visit Lane starts to feel more and more like a mistake. It’s been one thing after another, but I’m done putting my heart on the line for a guy who would duck out on me to be with a stripper.
It’s clear this small-town girl wasn’t cut out for the world of rock and roll. Still, as each mile passes and the grandeur of the city slowly fades away, the high-rise buildings I fell in love with slowly becoming nothing more than a dark and dingy horizon, I try to remember what life was like before Lane.
I’ve gotten so used to looking forward to talking to him, to what it would be like when we finally saw one another again, that I may have lost a little piece of myself. I was too busy falling in love to even notice he might not be all mine.
It turns out Midnight Fate’s most eligible bachelor, the guy the tabloids can never seem to figure out no matter how hard they try, might not be as mysterious as they think.
Even though the world never knew I existed or that he hasn’t been single in six months, I never cared. It was okay with me that all the gossip rags painted the wrong picture of Lane Lewis, because in my heart I knew I had the version that mattered. I knew I had my guy.
Tonight, I’m wondering if they’ve been right all along, if I’m the idiot who didn’t see Lane for who he really is. Maybe I’m the one who was too mystified by dating someone like him to really care what he was doing when he wasn’t with me. Because as long as he was out there making his dreams come true, I was happy for him.
I was happy loving him from afar, and now
I’m miserable loving him up close. But no matter how much my heart hurts, I still can’t picture any one of our conversations as a lie. We spent too many nights together, hundreds of miles apart, to not have gotten to our truths. Nights like the ones when we were both blanketed by the stars, making wishes on the brightest one, with the hope that every wish would come true.
“Are you in bed?” Lane asks as the noise around him dies down. He hates being trapped on the bus all the time, but I’ve loved all our late-night conversations that last into the early morning. Maybe we can’t be with each other as much as we’d like, and maybe we’re both a little more lonely than we’d like to admit, but getting to know him through words has brought us closer than anything we could ever do with our bodies.
“I’m in bed, looking at the stars,” I tell him, as I search for the one shining the brightest.
“I’m only about a hundred miles from you tonight. We’re probably looking at the same ones.”
Even though it’d be nearly impossible to be looking at the same star at the exact same time, I’d like to think we are—that one chunk in the sky could connect two people no matter where they are in the world.
“I miss you, Lane. All I can think about is the next time you’ll hold me in your arms.” I choke back the tears, not wanting him to hear how emotional I am tonight, but he hears it in my voice anyway.
“Don’t cry, baby.”
“This is hard, and I’m hormonal.”
If a smile had a sound, I hear it when he says, “It won’t be like this forever. I like sex too much to keep screwing you through the phone.”
Even though he’s flirting with me and it’s kind of dirty, he still manages to give me butterflies when he’s not even trying. That’s why I tell him, “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I’ll text it to you so you have it in writing.”
“I think I’d like that.”
We both pause for a few seconds, but it’s not awkward. It couldn’t be—not when I’m too busy falling for him as I lie here listening to the sound of him breathing. I’d like to think he’s having similar thoughts of his own. Which is why I’m hopeful when I ask him, “If you could be doing anything right now, what would it be?”