“Yeah,” she whispered softly. “At least there’s that.”
Something told me that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, and the fake sincerity in her voice drove that point home.
I wasn’t sure why I was having such an intense reaction to her mood or behavior, but I needed to get a fucking handle on myself before it got too out of hand.
Lyla
Well that just sucks.
He was leaving in three days. Leaving me once again to go back to LA and all those available women who made being single so freaking wonderful. It was enough to make me nauseous.
When dinner finally came to an end, I quickly offered to clear the table and take care of the dishes while everyone else visited in the living room. I needed some space to get my head together. I thought I’d have more time with them. With him.
Christmas Eve was tomorrow. Then they’d all spend Christmas day with their families. I barely had time to get the courage to do what I needed to do.
“Hey, girly. Need some help?”
I looked over my shoulder and smiled at Tate. I’d been getting a strange vibe from her all evening long, and I needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and be a good friend. “I got this under control, but feel free to hang around and keep me company.”
She didn’t hesitate to hop up on the counter next to me and grab the hand towel I had waiting. “How about you wash and I dry?”
“Sounds good to me.” I handed her the wineglass I’d just washed and started on another. “So… you wanna tell me what’s up with you?”
She refused to meet my eyes as she scrubbed at the glass so furiously I worried it would break in her hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” I gave her a look that spoke to how full of crap I thought she was. “Is that why I saw you flinch when Deck called LA home? Or why you’ve been faking happiness all night long?”
“I haven’t been faking—”
“You forget how well I know you? You might’ve been able to hide it from me over the phone or through text, but I can see it in your eyes now. Something’s not right. I’m not gonna force you to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just wanted you to know I’m here if you do.”
She finally put the glass down, and I breathed a sigh of relief that there wouldn’t be any bloodshed or emergency room visits tonight. “It’s… not how I thought it would be,” she admitted. “He’s not how I thought he would be.”
I passed her another glass and grabbed a plate to scrub next. “How do you mean?”
Her gaze stayed averted the entire time she spoke, like she was too afraid to look at me as she gave voice to what was bothering her. “Deck’s changing, Ly. Right in front of my eyes, and I don’t have a clue how to get the guy I fell in love with back.”
Dropping the dish back into the sudsy water, I stopped what I was doing and turned to face her. “Is he that bad? I mean, I’ve seen a couple stories online, but—”
“It’s like all he gives a damn about is being famous.” Even though she wouldn’t meet my eyes, I could still see hers glistening with unshed tears. “Music used to be something that brought us together. Now I feel like he cares about it more than he does me.”
“Oh, honey.” I grabbed the cloth from her and quickly dried my hands so I could wrap her in a hug. “I’m sure that’s not true. Deck’s crazy about you. He’s always been crazy about you. You’re just going through a rough time, but you guys will get through it. I don’t have a single doubt. You’re perfect together.”
She looked up at me with a sad, defeated smile. “Just because something seems perfect from the outside doesn’t mean it really is.”
As I hugged her tight, all I could do was pray that she was wrong. Because if two people as in love as Tate and Declan couldn’t make it, there wasn’t a single shred of hope for me.
Chapter Four
Lyla
Tate eventually composed herself, and we finished the dishes and joined everybody else. A few more hours passed before Mom and Dad headed for bed. Will left to get some sleep since he was working at the garage early the next day, and Tate and Declan headed back to her folks’ place. But Mace, Killian, and Garrett had talked about hitting up a new club called Fresh and making a night of it.
That was when I was hit with a brilliant idea.
I waited until everyone was gone and the house was locked up for the night before snatching my phone from my desk. I scrolled to the name I needed and hit Call.
“Miss me already?” Bethany asked the second she picked up.
“Something like that,” I replied with a wide smile. “If I told you I knew where Civil Corruption was gonna be tonight, you think you could get us in?”
Her squeal was so loud that I had to pull the cell away from my ear. Once she was finished, she responded exactly like I’d hoped she would. “Oh, I’ll get us in. Don’t you worry about that.”
The wave of adrenaline I’d been riding the past couple of hours as Bethany and I got ready for our excursion to Fresh had officially worn off, leaving a whole mess of nerves in its wake.
“Uh, Beth? I’m not so sure I can do this,” I murmured as she used her grip on my hand to pull me past the ungodly long line wrapping around the block to get into the club.
“Oh no you don’t.” She shot me a warning scowl over her shoulder as she continued to drag me along with her. “Don’t you even think about backing out of this now. Not when I’m this freaking close to some of the sexiest men on the face of the planet. You already cock-blocked me with your brother. Don’t ruin this for me too.”
My face twisted as I gagged. “God, stop it with my brother already! I’m gonna be sick.”
We made it a few feet to the door when she jerked me to a stop and spun around. “Oh get over it. You’ve got a hot brother. There are worse things in the world. Now, it’s show time.” Then she reached up and tugged at the V-neck of the skintight black bandage dress she’d loaned me for the night to expose more cleavage.
“What are you doing?” I yelped, batting her hands away and pulling my top back up. She smacked me and yanked it back down.
“Knock it off!” she hissed. “You want into this place, Little Miss Seventeen? Then you have to look the part. Which means giving that walking steroid at the door something to stare at other than your baby face.”
“I don’t have a baby face,” I snapped defensively.
“You’re right, you don’t. But what you do have is a deer-in-headlights look that tells everyone here you’re not really twenty-two. And since you’re crap at acting, you need to use these as persuasion.”
I looked down at her and the tons of skin she had bared. She was showing twice as much cleavage as I was, and the sides of her dress were cut up. Not to mention the fact that the thing barely came low enough to cover her butt cheeks.
Reaching into her tiny purse, she pulled out two fake IDs, slapping one in my hand. “You ready?” she asked before taking my hand once more and moving me toward the bouncer without giving me a chance to answer.
“Hey there,” she said in a sultry voice I’d heard her use on Tim Watson every time she needed him to do her calculus homework.
The guy with no neck glanced at her rack in appreciation, ignoring the ID in her hand completely. I copied her stance in the hopes of a similar outcome, breathing a sigh of relief when he unhooked the velvet rope and waved us through.
“See?” Bethany cooed, batting her eyelashes as she shot me a smug grin. “Told you it would work.”
The entrance gave way to a massive open space with three small steps taking you down to a dance floor. On the far wall at the front was a small stage about three feet off the floor where two women in gold bikinis and body paint danced to the techno beat the DJ was playing. There was a cordoned-off area in the far-left corner closest to the stage with white wispy curtains giving the illusion of privacy while the occupants were still able to see everything happening on the stage and dance floor. That was the VIP a
rea where I knew the guys would be. The three other sides of the dance floor were surrounded by seating areas with low white love seats and circular glass coffee tables.
Around that was wrought-iron railing for the upper level where we were currently standing. Dark wood high-top tables were placed against the railing all around, with two long bars on the far walls of both sides.
There wasn’t a single empty seat in sight. Hell, there was barely enough room to move with all the people packed inside. I wasn’t sure if it was because the club was popular or because word had gotten out that Civil Corruption was on the premises, but most likely it was the latter.
The music was so loud it reverberated through the floors and vibrated up my body. “They’ll be over there,” I shouted, pointing toward the curtains.
“Then let’s go.”
It was then that I realized I hadn’t really thought this plan out. “Wait!” I grabbed her arm to stop her before she could get down the stairs. “I just…”
“You aren’t flaking again, are you?”
“No. I’m not flaking,” I snapped. “But… if we go up there now, we’ll be just like all the other chicks crowding around them. We need to stand out, not blend in, right?”
“Hmm. Good point.”
I thought so too, and was truly shocked I managed to sound so logical when every inch of my skin felt like a live wire. “Let’s grab a drink,” I suggested, knowing I was going to need all the liquid courage in the world to get me through tonight.
I let her lead me to the bar where she worked her magic on a couple of college guys and got them to buy us a round of shots.
“So.” She leaned in as the tequila I’d just downed warmed my body from the inside out. “Which one do you have your eye on tonight?”
My mouth opened, and the words I’d never spoken out loud to anyone came pouring out. “Mace,” I answered. “I want Mace.”
“Ooh, does my girl have a little crush?”
“Something like that,” I replied, my cheeks growing red.
“Then I’ll consider him off-limits. He’s all yours, babe,” Bethany cheered, then grabbed another shot glass from the bar and shoved it at me. “Let’s get our buzz on and land you a hot rocker!”
I clinked my glass with hers and sucked back the second shot with determination. Two turned into three, three to four, until I eventually lost count and everything started to feel really freaking nice and fuzzy.
Bethany was totally right. I was finally going to get my hot rocker.
Mace
Tonight was a mistake.
Usually I was down for carousing with my brothers, but for some reason I wasn’t feeling it—at all. I refused to allow myself to consider that it was because of Lyla. Sweet, gorgeous, all-grown-up Lyla.
Kill and Garrett were a different story. They’d already pulled in a gaggle of chicks to fawn all over them while rubbing their tits in the guys’ faces.
“So, what’s it like to be a famous rock star?”
Fucking really?
I turned to the woman who’d been sitting next to me most of the night, just gagging for my cock. Desperate bitch wouldn’t have gotten it even if I had been in the mood, but seeing as I wasn’t, she was really starting to annoy the shit out of me.
“It sucks,” I grumbled, turning away and taking a pull of my beer.
“Really?” she gasped, totally clueless. “It does?”
Jesus Christ. I was miserable.
“Yeah. It’s the fuckin’ worst. ’Scuse me, gotta take a piss.”
Plunking my bottle on the table, I pushed up on my feet and started the arduous task of squeezing through all the barely dressed women crowding our private area.
Once I cleared VIP, I pulled in a breath and glanced around the club. It was packed to the gills, probably violating a thousand fire codes. Getting to the bathroom was going to be a pain in the ass, but before I could even start in that direction, I saw something that froze me solid.
I don’t know how long I stood there, trying to wrap my head around what I was seeing.
Lyla.
Lyla in the sexiest fucking dress I’d ever seen.
Lyla dancing with her eyes closed as some fucking prick grinded up on her and palmed her sweet ass.
That was when I jumped into action. My blood went from a simmer to a full-on rolling boil, my brain chanting the word mine over and over. In one second flat I’d reverted to a caveman, determined to beat that fucker bloody for putting his hands on my golden girl.
“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” I growled once I reached them.
The dude looked at me with large, scared eyes while Lyla slowly teetered around and gave me a sloppy grin. “Mason!” she shouted, throwing her hands in the air and nearly toppling over. I reached out and caught her, pulling her against me at the same time the jackass she’d been dancing with tried to do the same. I shot him a look that said if he touched her again, I’d take immense pleasure in killing him, and he wisely backed off.
“I was jus’ comin’ to see you,” she slurred as she leaned heavily against me. Just the feel of her lush body rubbing against mine was enough to make me hard.
“Really?” I glowered down at her. “That why you were letting this asshole feel you up right before I cut in?”
“Oh! That’s Travis! He’s my friend. Travis, this is Mace. Nice to meet you.”
Sweet Jesus. “Are you drunk, Goldie?”
“I’m floaty!” she cheered enthusiastically. Yep, totally fucking wasted. “Travis bought me shots! Wasn’t that nice of him?”
“Yeah,” I snarled in Travis’s direction. “Real fuckin’ nice. She’s seventeen, dickhead. Get lost.”
At the realization that he’d been liquoring up a minor, he blanched and quickly took off.
Lyla, already three sheets to the wind, barely noticed when he disappeared. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she began to sway sloppily to the song the DJ was playing. “Dance with me, Mace.”
She started gyrating her hips in perfect synchronicity, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to touch her the way that other guy had been.
I wanted to. Christ, how I wanted to. I wanted to fucking own her.
But I couldn’t.
“Stop that.” Every ounce of need and sexual frustration I had for her poured into those two words, causing them to come out brittle and harsh. Taking her by the arm, I dragged her off the dance floor into the VIP area. “Everybody out!” I shouted loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Now!”
“What the hell, man!” Killian exclaimed once the women all cleared out. “I was just about to get me some hea—what the fuck? Lyla?”
“Yeah. Lyla,” I bit out, tugging her so she’d land on one of the plush couches. “Caught her out there with some prick dry-humping her all over the goddamn dance floor.” What I didn’t let out was that I was only seconds from doing the same damn thing.
“Oh shit,” Garrett sighed. “What are you gonna do?”
Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I scrolled to Will’s number and hit Call. “I’m getting Will to pick her up before she gets her ass in trouble,” I replied as the phone rang in my ear.
At my answer, Lyla seemed to sober up pretty damn quickly. “What? No! You can’t do that!”
“I can and I am.”
“So you’re telling on me?”
“If it gets you out of here and keeps you safe, you bet your ass I am.”
I needed to get her out of the club and away from me as soon as fucking possible, or it was likely I’d do something I could never take back.
Then I was going to need to find a woman to take home in the hopes of fucking Lyla and that goddamned dress out of my head.
However, my gut told me it wasn’t going to be that easy.
Chapter Five
Lyla
To say last night was a clusterfuck of epic proportions would’ve been the understatement of the century. It hadn’t helped matters that I’d had way too much
tequila and made a drunken fool of myself.
I woke up that morning with a hangover from hell, pushing the pain and nausea to the back of my mind as I shuffled out of bed and forced myself into the shower. The aftereffects of the alcohol was only mildly masked by my crushing humiliation. I’d gone to that club in an effort to put my heart on the line and ended up being dragged out by my big brother, who’d torn me a new asshole the whole way home before I proceeded to expel all the tequila in my stomach onto the passenger floorboard.
I’d lost track of Bethany at some point in the night, and when all my texts went unanswered, I’d finally given up. I’d check on her later this morning; first, I had something more important to do.
I had one last shot at telling Mace the truth, and I couldn’t let it slip through my fingers just because my veins contained more booze than blood. After washing the stench of shame and smoke from the club off my skin, I dressed as quickly as possible, blowing my hair dry and twisting it up in a messy knot on top of my head before slapping on a bit of mascara and lip gloss. I didn’t have the time or energy to do anything more. There was a gnawing in my gut that had nothing to do with the shots from last night, telling me I needed to act fast.
I knew Mace had used one of his first paychecks to buy himself an apartment in San Francisco incase he ever came to visit. Will and I had actually gone to scope it out and give the okay for him since he was in LA and couldn’t do it himself. So that was where I headed, hoping he’d finally be using the place for the first time in years.
While the elevator took me up to his floor, I twisted my fingers together and worried my bottom lip between my teeth as nerves took hold. By the time I reached his front door and knocked, I’d chewed so hard on my lip that the acrid taste of blood coated my tongue.
All the saliva in my mouth dried up and my throat felt like it was full of cotton when Mace answered the door with nothing but a sheet wrapped around his lower half. Unlike the other guys, his arms were free of tattoos, but the band’s logo of a skull with guitar necks instead of crossbones was inked on his massive chest just above his heart. I’d always thought he was the sexiest guy in the world with his clothes on, but like this… well, I couldn’t even form a coherent thought. For crying out loud, he was so ripped even his muscles had muscles. Inch after inch of golden skin was rippled and defined, and I had the intense desire to run my tongue along every crevice.
Ravage (Civil Corruption Book 4) Page 3