Strength In Release (The Charistown Series Book 5)

by Lisa N. Paul

“What?”

  “I said, you don’t get a choice. I am your brother. I am your friend. I have love for you that goes beyond reason. So yes, I’m in love with Cate—damn, that woman owns me, heart and soul, and I would walk through fire for her—but you… there’s a place in my heart that will always belong to you. You saved me when honestly, I didn’t think there was anything worth saving. More than family, that’s what we are. We chose each other and now”—he huffed—“there’s no escape. That little tantrum you just threw, consider it a freebie after the shit I said to you way back when. If we’re being honest, you probably deserve another one, but damn, woman, give me time to recover because your words hurt like hell.”

  He wasn’t running? He wasn’t leaving? She had been so damn mean, yet there he sat, almost like Rachel used to—hurt by her words but love written on his face. Family.

  “Now, you stubborn little brat, since you obviously choose not to remember, I did come to you. I called, I pounded on your door, and what did you do? You ignored me. You gave me pacifying answers to shut me up and keep me out. You’ve been dodging me since your attack in April—”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. Instead, you stay locked in your house, and when you do come out, you’re a ghost of your former self. Sure, you look like Lyla Dalton, but everything that makes you you… poof, it’s gone. I see you leave the bar with men sometimes, but come on, they aren’t up to your standards. They’re like man-boys.” Lyla nearly laughed when Kyle rolled his eyes, but he continued too quickly. “As for your house, you ever think there may be other people in this town who have been looking out for you? The thought ever cross your mind that there may be a big surly son of a bitch who would do anything to have your back, including calling his best fucking friend on his honeymoon to tell him that a certain Charistown resident is packing up and heading out? Because I love you, honey, I do. But there was no way I would have called Max.” He winked.

  A big surly son of a… “Wait, are you saying that Gage—”

  Kyle rose from his chair, put his mug in the sink, and stalked to the front door with a smirk planted firmly on his face. “You’re a smart girl, think about it.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

  “Marx, don’t you dare leave this house.”

  In a mocking tone, Kyle said, “‘Marx, you can’t be here. Marx, don’t you dare leave.’ You make me laugh, Ly. But I really do need to go. The woman I love needs my muscles.” Green eyes found hers as the humor left his voice. “You should try sharing your burden sometime, honey. It’s amazing how much more enjoyable life is. I’ll call you later.”

  Once the door closed, Lyla engaged all of the locks and stood in the empty foyer. Goddamn Kyle. She was never giving him up. Not ever.

  Grabbing her cell, she whipped out a quick text to Janie:

  Ur an asshole, but I love you

  Janie: You needed a come to Kyle talk.

  Janie: Still eating breakfast ;) Love you.

  Lyla: Love ya back.

  Grinning, Lyla walked into her family room and sat on the shaggy throw rug and replayed the conversations she’d had with Janie and Kyle. Would leaving Charistown really keep them safe? Would isolating herself keep her safe? Maybe it was time to take action and put her life where it never truly had been—in her own hands. As a plan formed, unease trickled up her spine. Could she face her past and come away unscathed? Or would seeing that monster face to face only make the nightmares worse?

  Chapter Eight

  Don’t Stay Gone Too Long

  “WHAT THE FUCK do you mean you aren’t coming to dinner tomorrow night?” Lyla held the phone away from her ear so Ashley’s shriek didn’t cause permanent hearing loss. “I already promised to let Ryan do the majority of the cooking this time.” Ashley’s pouting transcended cellular lines, making Lyla laugh.

  “Ash, you’re a nut. Your cooking, if that’s what you want to call it, is not why I can’t come.”

  Ash giggled before saying, “Bitch,” letting Lyla know Ashley’s feelings were safe and secure.

  “Seriously, my manuscript goes to editing first thing Tuesday morning and I’m not even close to finished. I’ll be working nonstop until it’s complete. Sorry, babe, you know I would never miss dinner unless I had to.”

  Awkward silence cloaked the conversation for what felt like hours before Ashley whispered, “Does Janie know you aren’t coming?”

  “Yeah, Ash, my mom gave me permission to miss dinner.” Closing her eyes, Lyla winced at the snotty inflection she’d carelessly tossed at someone she considered a close friend. “Ash, I’m—”

  “You know what, you’ve been acting like a real bitch. We’ve all sat around like good little puppies and taken whatever scraps you’ve given us, but enough is enough. What you went through is unimaginable. Being attacked like that, having that kind of fear driven into you… that changes a woman. It changes a person. But you were walking around guarded and cracked long before that night. You sat back dishing out advice to each of us when we needed it though, and you know what that did? Do you?”

  Stunned by Ashley’s outburst, Lyla remained quiet, leaving Ashley to speak her mind.

  “It made each of us fall in love with you. You may be all sorts of uncomfortable with the words or the displays of affection, but it’s the goddamn truth. So deal with it. You have people who care enough to stick around when you treat them like shit. Don’t be fool enough to think that will last forever. Even abused puppies eventually learn not to trust the hand of the person who was once generous.”

  “Christ, all this because I’m missing dinner at your house?” Lyla attempted to inject humor into the conversation in order to stop herself from falling apart.

  “Yes, dammit,” Ashley responded, lightness in her voice. “I can’t burn salad and that’s the job Ryan gave me, so come. Well, that and garlic bread. Shit, I’m totally gonna burn the bread.”

  Ashley Kynde was good people. A loyal friend. There, with the phone to her ear, Lyla once again realized the members of her Charistown family would stand by her side the same way she’d stood by theirs. “Next time, Ash. I promise.”

  “Don’t stay gone too long, okay?”

  “I won’t.”

  Neither of them were referring to dinner.

  Chapter Nine

  Never Seen You In Green

  THE SPICY RICH scents of Mexican food wafted through the air, tickling Lyla’s nose and making her salivate. The Sombrero was buzzing with people as usual; the place was a Mexican goldmine right in the heart of Charistown.

  “Here’s to another L.P. Jodes book off to the editor.” Janie raised her margarita, a smile lighting her face. When Max and Lyla clinked their glasses to hers, Janie added, “And to Lyla finally showering and meeting us for dinner.”

  The threesome laughed and took large gulps of the salty-sweet concoction.

  “Missed you at dinner the other night,” Max casually said from behind his menu. “What’d you eat?”

  “Believe it or not, I took your wife’s suggestion and ordered groceries. My whole kitchen’s stocked now.” Maybe it was her imagination, but was that disappointment on Janie’s face?

  “You did?” Janie asked lightly. “After all these years, you don’t need me anymore, huh?”

  Max shot Lyla a pleading look before he yanked his wife’s chair closer to his own. “Babe.”

  “Jane, you know how I get when I’m writing. If I didn’t have you reminding me to eat, I would completely forget, regardless of if there’s food in my fridge. So you’re not off the hook, sista.” Seeing a tiny grin emerge on her best friend’s face felt like Christmas morning. “How about we continue things the way they were except on weekends?” Lyla’s eyes cut to a satisfied-looking Max. “Then you’re all his.”

  Janie sat back in her chair, glass in hand, and smiled as if the tension had never existed. “Sounds like a perfect plan. After all, we all know neither of you could get by without me.�
��

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Lyla and Max said in unison.

  Dinner was a perfect blend of great food and entertaining conversation. Without realizing it, Lyla slipped into the person she’d been months before, intently listening to honeymoon stories, trading barbs with her friends, laughing with abandon, and enjoying the freedom of her soul.

  “I really hate to break up this dinner,” Max said with regret on his handsome face, “but I’m meeting Gage at Chopper’s. I’m down fifty bucks at pool and I’m feeling lucky tonight.”

  Gage. Just the mention of his name sent waves of something sizzling through Lyla’s body. The unidentifiable feeling snapped her out of the bliss she’d spent the last couple of hours in. She hadn’t seen the towering hunk of male since the night he left her standing alone in her house, but she’d been haunted by the memory of his sapphire eyes and whiskey voice as he promised to rock her world then left her to fend for herself. Kyle’s words—there may be a big surly son of a bitch who would do anything to have your back—echoed in her mind.

  “Ly? You okay? Max, what did you do to her?”

  Shaking the fog from her head, Lyla looked at Max. “Would you mind if I met Gage at Chopper’s in your place?” She was prepared to explain, but Max’s wide grin stopped any further words.

  “Have at it. Sure he’d rather see you than get his ass kicked by me.”

  Janie and Lyla snickered.

  “As if,” Janie said before swallowing the last of her drink. “I love you, babe, but Gage regularly kicks your ass in pool. Maybe you should switch to darts. Lord knows your aim is fantastic.” When Janie wiggled her brows, the last of Lyla’s drink shot out of her nose. As she handed Lyla a wad of napkins, Janie deadpanned, “I’m thinking you should keep that little party trick to yourself.”

  Wiping her face, Lyla admired her friends once more. “Thanks for the advice, lady. Have a good night, you two.”

  ***

  CHOPPER’S WAS QUIET as the regulars drank and played pool. Sebastian felt at home in the popular motorcycle hangout, since most of the patrons were customers at his garage as well.

  He’d spent a few hours that morning at the Winston Race Track, tending to a four-wheeled beauty that his crew had finally gotten up and running the night before. He then spent a full day at the garage, not even stopping for lunch or dinner. If it weren’t for the protein bars he stashed in his desk, he’d be a bear most days. Not that he minded—he loved his fucking job. Now, if DeLucca would show up and take his beating like a man, Sebastian would go to bed smiling. Well, maybe not smiling, but content.

  “I’m probably a poor replacement for Max,” a husky voice said over his shoulder, “but I’ll pay his debt if you hang with me instead.”

  Sebastian’s pulse kicked up as his heart thumped in a way that he was pretty damn certain had nothing to do with the fifty-dollar bill sliding up next to his drink. Still facing forward, his eyelids slid shut as he breathed deeply to inhale her scent—brown sugar… cookies. Christ, I want to eat her.

  “DeLucca too scared to meet me himself?” He opened his eyes and turned to see the face that haunted him all hours of the day. The woman he wanted but couldn’t have.

  Curtains of espresso hair hung past the swells of her breasts. A leather jacket kissed the curves of her slender body, and his eyes roamed up to her face only to catch her red-painted lips curled up in a caught ya looking grin. Fuck yeah, he was looking. The woman was lava hot.

  “No, he was all set to meet you, but I asked if I could take his place and he gave his blessing.”

  DeLucca was getting fifty bucks tomorrow even though his pool playing was inferior.

  Sebastian tipped his head toward the bartender, immediately gaining his attention, before addressing Lyla. “Whatcha drinking?”

  “I’ll have a shot of vodka and whatever you have on tap,” she said to the bearded, large man behind the bar.

  Sebastian asked, “No Lemontini?”

  “This isn’t a Lemontini kinda place, Gage. Gotta know your surroundings.”

  Sebastian ordered another scotch without taking his eyes off the woman standing next to him. She was remarkable. There was no counting the number of women who went out of their way to make those around them feel inferior. It used to happen to him all of the time. Women assumed because he worked in a garage, he was dumb. He didn’t bother teaching them otherwise—they weren’t worth his time. They wanted to use him for his looks? Fine by him. Fuck and Release was perfect for those females. With F and R, he didn’t need to think about anything other than the pick up and drop off.

  Lyla, on the other hand, during the nearly two years he’d had her in his sights, saw people for who they were. She accepted the good with the bad and kept moving. She had F and R down to a science, and while that had been one of the things that attracted him to her in the past, it was becoming something he wanted to remove from her vocabulary. Even if neither of them seemed to be in a place for a relationship.

  “That table is open.” He pointed at the small two-top in the corner of the bar. “Why don’t you grab it and I’ll carry the drinks over?”

  Fuck, her ass in those jeans with those high-heeled boots… Sebastian discreetly adjusted himself before grabbing the drinks from the bar.

  “A fine-looking piece you got there, Gage.” The bartender whistled low. “Feel free to send her my way when you’re done.”

  “She’s not coming your way,” Sebastian growled.

  The bartender snickered. “Never seen you in green, buddy. Can’t say it looks bad on ya.”

  Shaking off the bartender’s comment and the feelings it caused, he walked toward the enigma sitting at the table. He placed their drinks on the table, shrugged out of his leather coat, and draped it on the back of his chair before sitting. Lyla gave him a small smile, lifted her vodka, and shot the liquid as he had seen her do countless times.

  “You want another one?” he asked.

  “Not right now, thanks.”

  Stilted. Awkward. Strange. That was how the moment felt between them. It wasn’t as if they had never spent time together, but in the past, they had always been with a group. In the past, they hadn’t been halfway to naked before slamming on the brakes and going their separate ways. Christ, he’d never had a problem talking to women before, and there was no way he’d start now.

  “One of the dart boards is available. How about we play? I’ll go easy on you.”

  At the mention of darts, Lyla broke into peals of laughter, leaving Sebastian relieved that the heaviness had passed but confused as to why darts were so damn funny.

  Conversation flowed the moment the darts began to fly. Each time Lyla gripped the firm missile in her long fingers, Sebastian washed down a groan with a swallow of beer. He was damn grateful that he’d followed her lead and switched away from the heavy alcohol, otherwise he’d be too drunk to contain the thoughts milling around in his brain. The ones that focused on the way she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she studied the board, as if becoming one with the target she would no doubt hit. The way her left brow arched just slightly once the dart left her hand and traveled through the air, and how her eyes lit up for a split second before she tamped down her excitement, replacing unadulterated joy with a cocky smile. For more than an hour, every inch of Lyla had called to him on a base level. Desire ran through his veins with every move she made.

  “Fuck me.” He winked. “Maybe you should be going easy on me. What the hell are you doing in your free time, target practice?”

  “Something like that,” she answered with a shrug. A look flashed on her face that advised him to press no further.

  Tread lightly flashed in his brain like a neon warning. After nearly a year, she finally seemed to be coming out of her shell. If her confidence came from frequent trips to the range, hell, he’d be thrilled. Sebastian had been there the night of her attack, when it had taken all of his strength not to kill the motherfucker who’d laid hands on her. But seeing Lyla
vulnerable on the ground had muted his anger. In that moment, he’d needed a guarantee that his woman was okay. Yes, that was the night she officially became his. At least in his mind. That night, he had stopped taking random women, or any women for that matter, to bed. It was the night when living alone started feeling lonely. Fuck, it was obviously the night I became a pussy.

  “That last shot barely hit the board, Gage. Don’t tell me you can’t hold your beer,” Lyla teased, bringing him out of his thoughts and back to the game.

  “Ly, when can I see you again?”

  “Gage… I… what?” She sipped her drink as if cooling her mouth would table the discussion. No way would he let that happen.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you don’t feel it. We’ve been dancing around this thing between us for too long.”

  Nature’s lie detector was the pale pink coloring of Lyla’s cheeks, and his cock stiffening in his jeans.

  “I can’t be who you need me to be.” Her head slowly shook as if the motion itself would get the words out.

  “You don’t know me, so how can you know what I need?”

  “Gage—”

  Knowing he would regret the words as soon as he spit them out, he said what he knew she needed to hear. “Friends, Lyla. Just friends. You’ve given friendship to Max, Ryan, Kyle, even Ando. All I’m asking for is friendship.” He nearly choked on the lie, but if it meant time with Lyla, he’d take friendship over nothing at all. For a little while. A small amount of time. A fraction. Maybe. “Get to know me. Let me get to know you. Who knows, we could totally hate each other.” He smirked. “Be repulsed by the sight of one another within a month.”

  Lyla’s giggle was music to his ears. “Okay, Mister Smooth Talker, you’ve got yourself a friend.”

  They shook hands to seal the deal; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know friends didn’t have chemistry that explosive. Yeah, friends was gonna be a stretch. But he would do it if it made her comfortable.

  ***

  FRIENDS. COMING FROM Gage’s mouth, it sounded like a bad word. Lyla couldn’t imagine a woman in the world who’d be happy with that title between them, but she’d practically thrown a tantrum when he suggested anything more, so friends it was. Friends was safe. At this point in her life, feeling safe was the only thing keeping her from hightailing it right out of the small town.