Consumed (Devoured, #2)(61)

“You got it.”

While Nick goes outside, Ashley grabs my wrist and leads me over to a back table. “You don’t need to watch that,” she says. “It’s broad daylight and Nicky deals with shitheads all night long. He can handle whoever this * is.”

Resting my elbows on the table, I bury my face in my hands, inhaling deeply before running them back through my hair. “I’m a f*cking mess.”

Ashley’s back stiffens. “Dude, you got beat up by some psycho in a parking lot less than four days ago. You’re not a mess. You’re normal.”

The front bell clangs, and both of our heads fly up to see Nick stomping towards us with a familiar face in tow. David. My hand flies to my chest as I stumble to my feet and they both stop short in front of me.

“Tell this dickhead that I’m not harassing you,” David snarls, and I nod my head quickly at Nick.

“No, he’s fine! This is one of Your Toxic Sequel’s security guards.” Noticing the questioning glare that I shoot at David, Ashley takes this as her cue to leave. She wiggles off of the chair she’s sitting on, and motions her head to the back of the bar.

“Let’s give them a little bit of room, Nicky,” Ashley suggests, and Nick begrudgingly follows her toward the bar counter where Ashley pretends to be checking inventory while keeping a cautious eye on what’s happening out here between David and me.

“Lucas?” I ask and David answers with a grunt.

“He said you needed some time. Asked me to come off the tour and keep an eye on you for him.”

And he’s probably paying you both arms and legs, but I don’t say that to David. “Thank you.” I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze. “It means a lot to me that you’ve been making sure I stayed safe.”

David’s dark brown eyes are apologetic, and he bows his head. “I should’ve let you know it was me.”

“Yeah, probably. I would’ve been a lot less terrified.”

The awkward conversation between David and me continues for another few minutes before he excuses himself from the bar, shooting a dark look at Nick as he ducks his head to walk out the door.

Ashley comes back out onto the bar floor, slinging a dishtowel over her shoulder. She sighs and stares out at the front of the room. “Lucas-Fucking-Wolfe and the shit he’ll do for his woman,” she sighs, sending a chill down my spine.

“No kidding,” I whisper.





Once again, the black car is parked at the top of my driveway for a few minutes tonight, but this time I don’t freak out as I sit on the front porch with my legs stretched out on the swing.

My phone buzzes from where I left it on the outdoor table, and when I peer over at the screen, I see that it’s Lucas.

This is the first time that he’s called me since visiting me in the hospital on Saturday. I grab the phone, weighing it in my palm like I’m considering my options before I suck it up and hit the Accept button. I hear his sigh of relief as I place the receiver to my ear.

“I’m sorry, Red,” he whispers. “I should’ve warned you about David.”

I wrap my arm around myself, shaking my head. “No, it’s comforting that you—”

When I don’t continue, he takes a breath. “That I’m not there myself, waiting around to kill the next person who tries to touch you?”

I groan. “No, Lucas—”

“What? Don’t admit that that’s what I wanted to do to that motherf*cker who hurt you? That this time, it wouldn’t have been an accident?”

“Where are you?” Fear slices through my heart thinking of whom he could be saying all of this in front of. “You shouldn’t talk like that?”

“I’m on the bus. Alone,” he growls. “On my way to Nashville.”

He was coming here. Lucas was coming back here. Then I close my eyes—of course he’s coming here. He’s got a show to play twenty-four hours from now. “Where’s Sinjin?”

“With Zoe. He’s meeting us there.”

“Ah,” I whisper.

“I’ve been doing the shows we didn’t have to cancel but all I can think about is you. The way you taste and smell. The way you laugh. I don’t care if I do sound like a * for admitting this, but I’m f*cked up without you, and I don’t know if anything can fix it this time.”

“I just needed time to catch my breath.” I tighten my grip around my still-sore body, and the memory of being punched in the stomach comes back to me full force. “I should have told you about Sam’s threats earlier.”

He makes a harsh noise. “What the f*ck would I have done? Told you that I would handle it by talking to that crazy bitch? I dragged you, blindfolded, into the most f*cked up situation possible.”

“I followed you.” I stand up and begin to pace the length of the porch, biting on the tip of my thumb as I walk. “I followed you because I love you, and I still love you. Now I just know a little more than I did when I walked in.”

Much, much more.

A long, drawn out noise comes from the back of his throat. “And where does that leave us?”

I hesitate. Where does that leave us? “I don’t know, but I think we have to figure that out.”