Losing Streak (The Lane)
Page 22
The street began to clear after a while, once the flames no longer danced quite as high or wild. Some went back to the bars. Others stumbled toward the places they’d parked. They’d be back, of course. Probably tomorrow night. Maybe they sensed that something major and substantial had shifted tonight and the place they spent so much time had been changed, probably forever. Maybe they even suspected the stony-faced group outside that tiny, mostly dark bar had a hand in it. But if they did, they didn’t thank us. They should have. We might very well have saved them too.
The street had almost cleared completely before MacBain turned to us.
“They’ll be asking questions, ye know. Maybe not right away, but eventually it’ll come around.”
Brandon shook his head. “Chief Daniels will be willing to go along with whatever Jared says. He won’t look any further. He’s gonna be just as glad to be out of it.”
“Ye think?”
“He’s right,” I said, eyes still on the glow surrounding the building so much of my recent life had been wrapped up in. “Daniels had a thing for prostitutes. Joshua used it against him for years. He’d supply them and remind Daniels constantly that if he continued to look the other way, they’d keep coming. If he didn’t, Joshua would ensure that they came forward. He had enough against the girls that they would have, even if that meant getting into trouble themselves. Daniels will go along with it and he’ll make sure everyone else does too.”
“So what do we do now?” Jackson asked after a minute, nodding toward the Lane at large.
“We keep another bastard king from moving in,” MacBain said with a grunt. “There’ll be one that tries. Ye wait and see. There’s always men like Joshua King waiting for their opportunity.”
“Ray of sunshine, that one,” Jackson muttered.
“Aye. I heard that.”
“Kinda weird, picturing a Lane without all of that shit.” The glow of the lights overhead danced across Brandon’s face as if in agreement when he turned to look at us. “Can you picture it? Maybe you could have before, but can you now? That you know?”
The others looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to imagine it. He was right. It was weird. Not exactly a bad image, but a difficult one to conjure.
A hushed conversation broke out, each of the group murmuring what they’d do now that they had the choice. Luke had just grunted something that sounded like, “Guess I’ll be going legit,” when Brandon nudged me with his hip.
“What about us? We lost a lot of time.”
“We did,” I agreed. “Lost a lot of everything.”
“We’ll get it back, though. Start by going to get your mama. Then we can build. Bet Theo could use me at the gym. Personal trainer for all those college boys wanting to beef up? Not exactly a shining career, but the money is real.”
“I’m a great bartender,” I offered with a smile.
He pulled me closer and pressed a rough kiss to my temple. “Hell yeah, you are.”
One by one, the others began to drift away. They patted each others’ backs or shoulders, paused long enough to give me quiet, secret smiles. If any outsiders were watching us, they’d have easily mistaken the gestures as consolatory, but they were really saying, “Good game.” Though it wasn’t. It hadn’t been a good game at all. The ending wasn’t even necessarily good but it was better than it could have gone.
Finally, it was only Brandon and me left, the last two on the street I’d been raised on and broken on. Where I’d fallen in love and fallen apart. We stayed there, arms wrapped around each other, until the smoke was thicker than the fire and the shouts from the fireman became less urgent and, if the wind blew just right, we could hear the crackle of their radios. Then, without exchanging a word, we turned and went ourselves.
Together.
* * * * *
Craving more gritty new adult romance? Don’t miss book one of The Lane, available now!
Wild Ones
Book one of The Lane
Bri Martin likes her skirts too short, her heels too high, and trouble close at hand. So when big, brooding underground boxer Luke Turner comes into the bar where she works and starts a fight before she brings his first drink, she can’t help being intrigued. Luke is everything she never wanted and everything she can’t resist.
Soon, Luke is showing up everywhere Bri is, and she can’t break free of his hold on her, nor does she want to. When her best friend turns on her, it’s Luke who is there. When Luke’s opponent comes after her to send Luke a message, it’s he who comes to her rescue.
Before Bri knows it, she’s caught in the midst of a
rivalry between her boyfriend and her boss, both of whom are not content to settle their scores inside the ring. She swore she’d never live this life, so like the
one she once ran from. But only by confronting her
past can she decide where her future lies…and
whether Luke can be a part of it.
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About the Author
Kristine Wyllys is a hopeless romantic with wild hair, big lips and bigger sunglasses. Born near Detroit, she spent the first half of her life in a town full of college kids and dying automotive plants. These days she dances around a dusty kitchen in the South with a baby on each hip and the boy she fell in love with at 15. She’s got a thing for Elvis, words, twangy music and geeky shows. She's never met a pizza she didn't like or a smart phone she couldn't destroy. When she's not playing pretend in her head, you can find Kristine at her website, www.kristinewyllys.com.
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ISBN-13: 9781426899041
Losing Streak
Copyright © 2014 by Kristine Wyllys
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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