Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(90)

That whole feeling fluttered through me again. The promise of something good.

Stupid, stupid girl.

Because that thrill trembled with the consequences of leaving myself susceptible and weak.

Right then, I wasn’t sure I could much make myself care anymore. Wasn’t sure I could conjure the fight.

I squeezed Lyrik’s hand, turned my nose to his arm so I could breathe him in.

Maybe it was better to hurt and bleed and cry than to be vacant and alone.

Maybe fear wasn’t such a horrible thing, after all.

Ash leaned over the bar and helped himself to a bottle of Jack, lined up a long row of shot glasses, and set to pouring the amber liquid across them.

I felt the curve lifting at the corner of my mouth. “You’re making me feel like a slacker, you pouring the drinks while I stand over here pretending like I don’t have a thing in the world to do. You sure you don’t want a professional to handle that?”

Ash cracked up with a shake of his head, his blue eyes sly as they cut across to me. “Ah now, my Tam Tam…I do appreciate the gesture…”

His attention kept sliding until it landed on the side of Lyrik’s profile, Lyrik’s head inclined so he could hear whatever Anthony was saying, clearly paying us no mind.

Ash flicked his attention right back to me. “Think you have plenty to keep you busy. My boy there is a handful. Wouldn’t want to leave you at a disadvantage.”

He said it like a tease, but I didn’t miss the undercurrent of warning that made its way into his words.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, accepting the glass he passed my way.

“I know you will.”

Ash nudged Lyrik’s arm, and Lyrik turned from his conversation and took the shot glass Ash offered. Everyone seemed to know their routine, each taking a step back or closer, huddling until they’d made a small circle of friends.

These boys who’d always seemed so bad.

The ones who’d shaken my axis the second they’d invaded Charlie’s bar, because they’d ushered in this black-haired, broken boy who would steal my world.

A beautiful storm.

Still holding my hand, Lyrik slanted me one of his deadly grins and a wink.

My insides went haywire.

A sizzle and a snap.

Ash lifted his glass. “To the future of Sunder. May all our roads be paved in gold and may badass songs continue to pour from our souls. Oh yes, and may there always be lots and lots of girls.”

He grinned like the Cheshire and tossed back his shot.

Shea smacked him on the chest. “Hey.”

He deflected, jumping back and trapping her hand against him. “Don’t worry, Beautiful Shea. We know Baz Boy here is locked down tight. No worries. Just leaves more for the rest of us.”

Tugging her hand away, she pointed at him. “I still have two hundred bucks saying you’re going to be filling up that house with a herd of little Ashes. I’ve got your card, buddy. This girl needs a new pair of shoes.”

Ash gripped his chest like he were in pain. “Oh…God…you’re killing me here, Shea. I’ll gladly fill up your whole damned closet with shoes if it’ll stop you from this mad delusion.”

The entire time, Lyrik was squeezing my hand. Hard. A little hopeless. Like he didn’t know where this was going, either, but he couldn’t bear the thought of letting me go.

I squeezed back.

Don’t let me go. I need you. I want you. I love you.

Do you hear me?

He suddenly looked down at me. “You ready to get out of here?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re going to call it,” Lyrik said offhandedly to the rest of the guys, not waiting around for goodbyes.

He began to lead me back through the crowd. Just before ducking out of the room, Lyrik froze when a middle-aged guy stepped into his path.

He was bald and grinning and so obviously not welcome.

“Eric Banik…” Lyrik seemed to process his presence, before his jaw went rigid. “What the f*ck do you think you’re doing here? This isn’t the time or place for your games.”

Eric Banik.

A thread of unease spun through me.

That was the name that had sent Lyrik into a tailspin the night he’d gotten into that fight with Ash. The night Lyrik had lost some of his control. When he’d used me like he’d needed me and not the other way around.

Eric grinned. “Just thought I’d drop by and see if you’d thought any more about my offer.”

“Told you a thousand times and not a thing has changed. But if you need a reminder, then fine—” Lyrik edged in closer to him. “Fuck off.”

A cold unlike anything I’d ever felt from Lyrik chilled the room. His dark eyes had gone black when he glanced behind him to the guys still talking by the bar.

“Now if I were you, I’d turn around and not ever come back. Pretty sure I gave you a warmer reception than the rest of my crew is going to give.”

He laughed as if Lyrik didn’t faze him. Not in the least. “Baz’s wife sure is pretty, isn’t she?”

In a flash, Lyrik had Eric Banik’s shirt in his fist, lifting him from the ground. “I’m warning you…turn around and walk out the f*cking door. Don’t come back. This is me asking nicely. And I’m about five seconds from not feeling so friendly. You got me?”