Dirty (Dive Bar #1)(73)

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“I, ah…” I looked around, waiting for my brain to catch up.

“Is she okay?” yelled Nell, watching out the broken shop window.

“Not sure,” said Pat.

Footsteps came running toward me. That was Vaughan. His Converse didn’t make as much noise as Pat’s boots. Why this mattered, I have no idea. I might have been ever so slightly in shock. Despite all the glass, Vaughan didn’t hesitate to kneel at my side.

“Babe?” He lifted my face to the light, inspecting me for damage. “Let me see. You all right?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“You sure?”

“I’m really not sure of anything anymore.”

A grunt. The man got to his feet, then eased his hands into my armpits and stood me up too. No trace of anger remained. His concerned gaze continued sweeping over me, looking for any hint of maiming. “Does anything hurt?”

“What a weird f*cking night,” I whispered.

“Hey, tune me in.” He gently cupped my face, mouth set in a straight serious line. “Are you sure you’re okay? Does anything hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” I shook my head slowly, feeling out my body from the inside. I wiggled my fingers and toes, moved my head this way and that. All major limbs were still attached. No pool of blood surrounded me. Okay, good. “Just a little where I landed on my hip.”

Next came Boyd, Rosie, and Masa, running out of the Dive Bar.

“What happened?” asked Rosie, voice all high and excited.

“Pat got some bad news,” said Nell, voice wobbling slightly.

It didn’t take a degree in rocket surgery to figure out what the news had been. Nell had told Pat about the baby. Pat had lost it and thrown the chair. Despite their separation. Despite their divorce. Shoulders bowed, Pat seemed lost, wounded. Nell looked about the same. It still didn’t give him license to start throwing furniture through shop windows, however.

The amount of yelling, drama, and violence in the last seven days had been insane. In total contrast to my family’s own studied indifference. As if caring too much was an error, an embarrassment. Fact is, by the time things disintegrated to this degree, my parents would have long since moved on. I’d been given the same option and yet here I stood.

Staying was the right decision. It was.

Meanwhile, Masa swore while Boyd stood back, scowling.

“Christ, Lydia,” said Pat, eyes anguished. He rubbed at his face with both hands. “If I’d hurt you … shit.”

A police siren wailed in the distance.

“It’s okay,” I announced to one and all. Despite all evidence to the contrary. “Everything’s fine.”

“What a mess,” said Nell, a tear trailing down her cheek.

I could only agree.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Baths were a girl’s best friend. Screw jewelry, chocolate, and those other things. A big old tub full of warm water had them all beat. Advil wasn’t bad either. Despite the monumental bruise covering my side, my hip hardly hurt.

I lay my head back against the rim of the tub, staring off into space. Trying to think constructively about my life, but not really succeeding.

Nell and Vaughan had talked to the police while the rest of us cleaned up the mess. It took a while for Joe to arrive with supplies to board up the window. Joe had stayed with Pat while we drove Nell back to her apartment. All in all, another crazy long night in Coeur d’Alene with the Hewson family and friends.

The voice of doubt had been running through my head. Of course it had. These people were batshit. I was insane to even consider staying here and throwing my lot in with the Dive Bar. Only, when I walked Nell up to her apartment, she’d thrown her arms around me, holding on tight.

I liked that.

As harsh as it sounds, if Vaughan was leaving, sooner rather than later might be for the best. Emotional upheaval and mass confusion where he was concerned had gotten old. He made my vagina happy. Deliriously so. But the rest of me felt tired. Or maybe it was just my head and my heart, the thinking and feeling bits. I’d already faced one major rejection this year, care of my ex-fiancé. Two was getting a bit ridiculous.

At first, I didn’t register the quiet knocking. Only when it continued, accompanied with Vaughan opening the bathroom door a little to peek into the room, I sat up in a rush, hugging my knees to my chest, covering up all of the essentials. Like he hadn’t already seen everything. A cascade of water splashed over the edge onto the floor. Oops.

“Just checking you hadn’t fallen asleep,” he said.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Mind if I come in?”

I opened my mouth to make excuses. But no go. The door opened wide and he stepped in, some thick candles in one hand and two bottles of beer in the other. He set the whole lot on the bench beside the basin, pulling a book of matches out of his jeans pocket. Small flames blossomed in no time. A finger flicked off the light, plunging the room into romance mode.

No. So much no.

“Vaughan.” I couldn’t manage a smile. I just didn’t have one in me.

With a flick of his wrist a bottle cap fell to the floor. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Icy glass chilled the palm of my hand. “Um. I’m not really in the mood for sexual healing…”