Neon Nights (Against the Odds Book 1)

by Bryony Kayn

  Jake put her face in her hands, being careful to put no pressure on her bruises. Tears threatened to come again, and she fought them back. “Have you heard from Nikky?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Angel replied, regret and sorrow audible in his voice. “He’s hiring a couple bodyguards, like he told you he’d do. He wanted to know if he should send a couple over here, but I told him no.”

  Jake nodded, not uncovering her face.

  “He also said he won’t be coming over here,” Angel went on slowly, meeting Jake’s gaze when she finally dropped her hands to stare at him. “Not for his sake, but for yours. He said he’s got his bodyguards so he’s not worried about Steve coming after him. But he doesn’t want to provoke Steve into coming after you again.”

  The tears spilled over before she could stop them. “So he’s still getting his way,” she said, her voice barely more than a croak. “He’s controlling Nikky, and he’s controlling me. And all we did was fucking dance together!”

  Angel reaching over to touch her arm gently. “Give it some time, little girl,” he said. “In a couple of weeks, he’ll forget about being pissed off at Nikky.”

  Jake shook her head, wiping the tears away cautiously with one shaking hand. “It doesn’t matter how much time I give it,” she said, “He’s never going to change. He’s never going to stop hurting me. I left him for three years, and it’s taken about six months to get right back to where we left off.” She sniffed, covering her eyes again as she fought to stop crying. “I can’t do this anymore. I won’t.”

  Angel was still, as though bracing himself for a blow. Jake felt his hand tremble on her arm, and put her hand over his.

  “I told him last night it was over, and I meant it,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “So the next time you talk to him, you remind him. He’d better not even think about touching me again. I don’t love him and I don’t want him and I will never allow him to take me in again. I’ll do whatever I have to to defend myself, even if I have to start carrying my fucking blades again.”

  “Jake,” Angel cautioned, responding to the anger and hatred in her voice.

  She met his eyes squarely, her face bruised and swollen but set with her own conviction. “Tell him, Angel. Make him believe you. As soon as I’m healed up, I’m going back to the Neon. I’m not abandoning my life on his account again. And he’d better not lay a hand on me, or I swear to God I’ll cut it off.”

  “Good for you,” Spyk stated, righteous anger clear in her voice. “I know he’s a quarter of Blackstone and your friend, Angel. But I’ll back Jake up a hundred percent.”

  Angel nodded, agreeing with Spyk. His biggest fear had always been that Jake would leave again, abandoning her life here and those who cared about her. Unfortunately, he was afraid things might get worse before they got better, but he would back Jake up, too. “I’ll tell him. And I’ll tell him he’s not welcome over here for as long as you live here.”

  Far down, beneath everything, hidden by his sympathetic expression and understanding tone was a huge lump like a rock in the pit of his stomach. That rock was comprised solely of bitterness and guilt. He should have insisted on calling the police. He should have made Jake press charges. Steve was going to get away with hurting her, as he’d done so many times before, because Jake would not involve the police. He should have done something besides sitting at the bar enjoying his drink and bullshitting with friends while Jake was being assaulted less than fifty yards away.

  “This is your home, Jake. I swear to you, you’ll be safe in your own home.”

  “Thank you,” Jake said, her voice husky as much from emotion as from physical damage. “You’re still my best friend, my brother, and I love you. So don’t be angry at yourself because you weren’t there to step in.” She lifted her cup to take a swallow of coffee, glancing sideways at him slyly. “I can read your mind, Angel-mine,” she added at the startled expression on his face. Then she looked at Spyk. “Did he say something about pain meds?”

  Spyk grinned and went to grab them.

  “I am sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he said softly enough that Spyk wouldn’t hear him.

  Jake took his hand, squeezing his fingers lightly. “But you were. You were there last night to take care of me, and you’re here now.”

  “That’s not what I mean—”

  She leaned closer, putting her fingers against his lips to silence him. “I know what you mean. Now listen to me. This is no worse than half a dozen times before, and you know it. The only thing that’s changed is I’ve finally gotten smart enough to know I don’t want to live like this for the rest of my life. You’ve shown me over and over how good and kind and caring a man can be. Steve isn’t half the man you are. So I’m finally going to take the advice you’ve been giving me all these years. I’m cutting him loose, once and for all. And as my best friend,” she said wryly, “you’re going to make sure I don’t change my mind. If you can do that for me, I’ll owe you more than I could ever repay.”

  Angel took her hand and kissed her bruised knuckles gently. “I’ll do my best,” he agreed, then sat back as Spyk leaned over his shoulder to set a glass of water and a couple of pills on the table before Jake.

  “There you go, Jakey,” she said, putting her arm across Angel’s wide shoulders. “That should help.”

  “Thanks,” Jake said, taking the pills. Things weren’t going to magically get better, she knew that. But she had something to look forward to—what she was going to do with her life now that she’d decided Steve wasn’t going to be in it.

  Chapter 8

  It took a couple of weeks for the bruises on Jake’s face to fade. The scrapes on her back, surprisingly, had healed more quickly, though there would be scars. As soon as she was fit to be seen in public, she had Sly put her back on the schedule.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?” Angel didn’t want to sound overprotective, but he couldn’t help worrying.

  “Yes.” Jake checked her makeup in the large, decorative mirror in the living room and smiled at the reflection of Angel. “You heard Sly. He eighty-sixed Steve from the Neon, and all the crew know to keep an eye out for him. I am tired of being cooped up here, sweetheart, and you’ve gotta be tired of babysitting me by now.”

  Angel shook his head. He wanted her safe. He didn’t care about the rest.

  “Look,” she said, turning to face him. “Nikky hired a guard to hang out at the service entrance for a couple of weeks. Jaime and Cody won’t let Steve set one foot inside. Sly already said he’ll have Steve arrested if he even tries, regardless of what I say about it. I’ll be as safe at the Neon as here. Besides,” she added with a wink as she went to grab her smokes off the counter, “you’re going to sit your ass at the bar and keep an eye on me, too. Aren’t you?”

  “I’d love to, but I’m due at the studio.”

  “Well then, you can just tie Steve to a chair there and stop stressing.”

  Her flippant attitude said she was over it, but Angel knew better. He’d seen her tears since that last night at the Neon, the bout of black depression she’d fought through before the worst of her injuries began to fade. He had been ready to beat Steve to a pulp with his own hands, but she’d made him promise not to, even though she unconsciously flinched whenever anyone moved too quickly around her or Steve’s name was mentioned unexpectedly.

  “Angel-mine, I know you’re just trying to take care of me, but I’m done with it. I’m not gonna hide; I’m not gonna let him win, even by default.” She put a hand on his shoulder and went up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “So, he’s my ex. We had a bad break up. End of story. Time to move on.”

  He caught a glimpse of the new tattoo on the inside of her left wrist before she pulled away. It was a simple, vertical black line with a diagonal line crossing it. It was a rune, she’d explained to him when she got it the week before. He couldn’t remember what she’d called it, but he remembered what it stood for. Endurance. Survival. Resistance l
eading to strength. She’d gotten it, she said, as a reminder.

  “Fine,” he said, giving in. He wouldn’t stop worrying, but he would make an effort to stop being so obvious about it. “I’ll be down after we’re done at the studio. You need anything, call me.”

  She met his eyes for a long moment. She didn’t smile, but there was a light in her eyes. “I always do.”

  When Jake pulled into the back lot of the Neon a little later, she sat in the car for a long time before turning off the engine. There was no sign of the fight that had messed her up so bad. It was just the same dusty blacktop, a few employee cars already parked and the service door propped open with a chair.

  She looked at the tattoo on her wrist, her first and only bit of ink. Jake had wanted something to remind her that she was the one in charge of her life, no one else. Not her friends, not her past, and especially not Steve. The mark was called Nauthiz, but it was the meaning behind it that she held onto. “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger,” she whispered to herself and nodded once in affirmation.

  When a big man with a shaved head and biceps larger than her thighs stepped out, Jake laughed quietly. “You never do anything halfway, do you Nikky?” she said aloud. Then she turned off the ignition and slid the key and fob into her pocket, making sure the door was locked before she shut it. She took one deep breath, a conscious decision that this was the first step toward a better life, and then Jake headed into the Neon. Walking through that simple open door was just like going home.

  Jake’s journey continues in

  ARRANT ROAD

  Against the Odds, Book 2