Dirty (Dive Bar #1)(72)

“Lydia!” he shouted.

I jumped in surprise, starting to get a wee bit pissed off myself.

He squinted at me like I was beyond recognition. Like I was just some shit on his shoe.

“First you get engaged to a guy you barely know,” he said. “Get sucked into that poisonous f*cking family. Now you’re jumping straight into this? You’ve only worked there a couple of days.”

“I have given this some thought. I’ve seen how they work, I’ve looked at their figures,” I said, standing as tall as possible. “And there’s going to be a month-long trial period to give all of us a chance to assess whether it will work or not. I’m not just jumping into anything.”

“Christ.” His laughter was so not funny. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you never learn?”

Huh. Nice to know what he really thought of me.

“Well?”

I just shrugged. “Well, what?”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“No.” I crossed my arms, watching his anger grow and grow. He stared at me, face a mask of fury and frustration. Sucked to be him. “I don’t owe you any answers, Vaughan. Not about my business decisions. Not about my life. And especially not while you’re behaving like an * and insulting me.”

He swallowed hard, turning away. “Well, I am not staying here, not for this kid, and not for you.”

“Who the hell asked you to?” I shouted, voice echoing up and down the empty street. “I mean, seriously.”

He stopped.

“You seem to think this is all some grand conspiracy to trap you in town. It’s not.”

He scoffed.

“Go and make merry with Conn and Henning Peters in L.A. These people don’t need you here,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “For what … ten years? For ten years they’ve all managed just fine on their own. So shit happened. Shit always happens. The world turns round and people screw up, they make mistakes. Your presence here wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.”

In silence, he glared at me.

“They don’t need you, and neither do I.” I stood tall, something inside of me breaking, tears welling in my eyes. “I’m sorry you lost your parents and your sister isn’t living up to your expectations of exactly what she should or shouldn’t be doing. Thing is, we’re all only human and people do die.”

His nostrils flared in fury.

“Deal with your shit, Vaughan. Mourn your parents. Get over your guilt. Give you and your sister a break. Do whatever the hell you need to, to be all right.” Too many emotions were running wild. I wrapped my arms around me, trying to hold myself together. “But understand, you’re not god. Your family and friends here will manage without you if going back to the coast is what you have to do to feel right with yourself.”

“It is,” he gritted out, hands clenched into fists. Such an angry-man pose. “Of course it is. There’s the biggest f*cking opportunity of my life back there. Not here.”

“Great. Go.” I nodded stiffly. “But don’t get pissed at me because what I want—this town—these people, are what you’re giving away.”

Nothing.

And seriously, f*ck this. Fuck all of it. “I think we’ve talked enough tonight. Would you mind driving me home, please, or would you prefer I caught a cab?”

For a minute he stared at me, then he stalked toward his parked car. I stood, staring after him. Fucking males with their f*cking issues. Fuck them all. I tried to slow my breathing, to calm my shit.

It didn’t really work.

Down the street, he unlocked his car and climbed in, slamming the door shut. Give me strength. The thought of getting into a small enclosed space with him did not appeal. One of us might wind up dead. Maybe I should just walk home. Not home. It would never be home. It was a nice quiet night now that Mr Shoutypants had shut his trap. Of course, I hadn’t exactly been a decorous young lady myself.

Gah. Whatever. Stars were shining. The moon was glowing. All that beautiful shit.

Vaughan revved the engine, headlights cutting through the night. Then he just sat there, waiting for me, I guess. My feet stayed put. This was a change. I’d always been so keen to get close to him.

But now, well … what to do?

That’s when the chair came crashing through the tattoo parlor’s front window out onto the sidewalk. Glass shattered, flying everywhere. I fell sideways onto my hip, landing hard on the cement, arms covering my head. The sudden barrage of noise was stunning. The chair skidded past me, metal legs striking sparks against the concrete. It came to a stop against the pole for a street sign, declaring the speed limit.

Then, nothing. Absolute silence.

Cautiously, I raised my head. Two people stood staring at me in shock from inside Inkaho. Fair enough, really. The scene was surreal. Light glinted off the myriad of broken glass. It looked like diamonds or stars or something. Something pretty but bloodletting. No way could I put my hands down, push myself up onto my feet. Guess I might stay put for a moment. Consider the situation.

“Lydia! Shit,” Nell yelled from inside the tattoo shop, then ran toward the door, rattling the lock. “Pat, open it.”

Instead, the man climbed directly out over the ruined remains of the shop window. Crunch, crunch, crunch, came from beneath his boots.