by Anna Bloom
“You’re in my bar, Lyra. How can I leave you alone?”
“Wh-what?” I said, the air in my body just whooshing away. “What do you mean?” My brain whirled and I seriously regretted the tequila. This bar was massive, a well-oiled machine, even in the bad part of town. How had Jack got this bar… it didn’t make any sense.
“I think I need to sit down.” My legs shook. I would have sat on the glass if he hadn’t held me up.
“Lyra?” All the anger dissipated from his tone.
“How?” I shook my head. This wasn’t the question, but my brain had run out of letters to form into words.
“How? Does it matter?” I looked up into his gaze, catching a flicker in the depth of his irises.
“Yes.” Another thought struck me, a random bolt of knowledge. “Oh my god. Did you get me the job here? Was it a pity job, you still looking after me like you did when we were kids?”
“What? No!”
I didn’t believe him though. I didn’t believe a word he said as his hands gripped my arms, pulling me closer to him by the moment.
“You did. That’s how I got the job so easily.” I wanted to smack my forehead with my hand, but I couldn’t move my arms. “I thought it was strange I just walked in and Evan hired me on the spot. Hell, I thought it was because he saw a kindred spirit in me, someone who loved the music but didn’t know how anymore.” A sob built in my chest. “I thought Rhian wanted to be my friend, that’s why she’s stopped being a bitch to me, but it’s not. It’s because you’ve told them to do everything. You still have the controlling hand, don’t you, Jack? All these years later, trying so damn hard to forget you…” I trailed off. It had all been for nothing. All the anger. The heartbreak. Here he was, still working me the same way he always had. Always on the sideline. But always filling me with the emotions I seemed to crave.
At least when he’d left and after the heartbreak was over, I’d been pleasantly left with nothing. Nothing felt good. Nothing meant that I didn’t have to care.
“Lyra,” he murmured. His forehead pressed against mine and I held my breath. This was dancing a fine line to ruin. “I didn’t even know until that first shift when you took me back with you. If I’d known you were here, I would never have got wasted like that.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Why wouldn’t I want you to see? Because I’d hate for you to think I’d ended up like him.”
“No. Why did you get wasted? You said you were trying to forget me.”
“Lyra, I’m always trying to forget you.” He let go of one grip on my arm and lifted his hand to the back of my neck.
“But you can’t.” It seemed obvious now. “That still doesn’t explain why you’ve been so horrible to me.”
He licked his lips, a deep frown scoring between his eyebrows. “Things are complicated now.”
I laughed. “More so than before?”
I searched his face for any flicker of amusement, but there wasn’t.
Slowly, I extricated myself from his grasp. My heart thudded an uneven beat, making my stomach roll. “Jack, please stay away from me.”
“What happened today? You were fine, you were playing so… so well, Lyra. And then you ran.” He reached down into his pocket, his body relaxed now, all anger evaporated. His furious flash of rage had left me shaken though. It rattled deeply buried memories that I wouldn’t ever have wanted to associate with Jack himself.
“Jack. Don’t you get it? I don’t want to play. I came here because I made you that stupid promise all those years ago. I didn’t want to let Grams down. When I didn’t get the scholarship, it was such a relief. I never thought you’d be here. Never. I…” My words tangled in my throat. “I thought you were dead, yet here you are.”
He slumped at my words. “Lyra, if you don’t play well on Friday; and when I say well, I mean the concert of your damn life, then you will be going home anyway.”
“Good. I can go back with my tail between my legs, tell Grams I tried but that it didn’t work out.”
He hesitated, it rippled through the air. His fingers lifted, running through the length of one of my curls. “When I first saw you with Greene that day, I thought I’d hate you. When I first heard you couldn’t play, I thought I’d take pleasure in it. But if you go home, that means I won’t ever get to see you again. And I don’t like the way that makes me feel.”
I frowned up into his face, my throat painfully tight. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t go home, Lyra. Ever.”
“Why?” He stared at me as he battled himself. “Jack?”
Could I stay and play violin here with Jack… is that what he was saying, that he didn’t want me to leave? But why?
“You’re my teacher, you’ve told me numerous times. You’ve made the way you feel about me perfectly clear. Since I’ve been here you’ve acted like you don’t know me. Why would you want me to stay?”
Jack dropped his head, a small huff of breath exhaling through his nostrils. “Because I always want what I can’t have. You should know that by now.”
It all made perfect sense. I’d always be a toy to Jack. Little Lyra Bird, too afraid to fly.
“And you can’t have me.”
“Don’t you see, Lyra. I. Can. Never. Have. You.”
It should have hurt. Even after everything that had changed, the stretch of time that had bridged from then to now. Strangely it didn’t.
“You don’t want me.” I nodded.
I turned to leave, but Jack caught my hand, reeling me back in.
His fingers cupped my face, his nose skimming along the edge of my cheekbone, trailing a pattern it used to know. Then slowly, he pressed a kiss against my cheek. A taste of a kiss. My stomach tightened three knots. I waited with baited breath, suspended in the moment, waiting to see what he would do next. “I’ll get you back to campus if you don’t want to stay here for the rest of your shift.
I pushed my palms flat against his chest, shoving him back. “No way. This is my job. If you don’t like me being here, you can leave. Go drink more bourbon, yeah? Don’t think I can’t smell it on you.” I stalked for the door. “You know what, Jack, I always thought you were nothing like your dad, but now I’m seeing it for what it is. Maybe you are just a controlling bastard too.”
It was a low blow, but in the moment it made me feel better, victorious, vanquished. Once he’d walked away from a little girl. She was long gone.
“If I’m going home next week, then I’m going to need all the cash I can get to help Grams out when I get there.”
His face flickered but he didn’t say anything else.
With a shake of my head I stormed out through the door and straight into the back of Alex Collins.
“Whoa, whoa, where’s the fire?” He turned and grinned, helping to catch me as I teetered over, rebounding off his back.
“Oh.” I had nothing. My pulse ran too fast, my legs wobbling until my knees rubbed together.
His gaze dropped to my chest where Blue’s bar was emblazoned. “Does Mr. Cross know you work here?” He leaned down and winked.
Uh. Yes. Yes, he did. I grabbed his arm and towed him for the bar. Rhian had taken up serving. She lifted her chin at me as I strode back over. “You survived, Miss Green?”
I curled my top lip. My shit meter had officially pushed the needle past a point of no return.
“Sorry, Alex. I’ve got to jump behind the bar.”
His eyes lit. “I have to say, this is kinda hot. Are you going to stand on the bar and pour drinks into the mouths of waiting men below?”
I grimaced. “What on earth have you been watching? I’m lucky if I get the liquid into a glass an inch away let alone do that.”
“So why’d the extra-hot scary one call you Miss Green? Unless you’re working undercover and you don’t want me to blow your gig.” He wiggled his eyebrows and I chuckled, forcing the brooding menace of Jack out of my head. Sure my legs were still shaking, but I could cope with that.
Anyth
ing other than being stuck in that oxygen stealing atmosphere with Jack.
Rhian sashayed over, swinging her hips. “Because she’s Little Miss Green, all fresh and naive.” She slung an arm around my shoulder. I thew her an evil stink eye.
“I’m not that naive.”
Alex looked between Rhian and me, his eyes alight.
“So what you doing in here?” I asked.
“I like a walk on the dark side.” Alex laughed again. “No, truthfully, I needed to speak to Jack.”
I shook my head in confusion. “Jack? You mean Mr. Cross, right?” Funny I’d never ever thought of his surname as an adjective for angry until the last couple of weeks.
A shift in the air behind me made me shiver. “Here, you dropped this.” Jack stared at my face, passing me my phone. I glanced down at the screen—unlocked.
Shit. He worked out my passcode.
His dirty greens landed on my face.
“I’ll see you for practice tomorrow morning.” He went to turn.
“No.” I gave a resolute shake of my head. “No.”
From the corner of my eye I caught Alex shifting. Rhian leaned an elbow on the bar, enjoying the entertainment as she smacked some gum between her siren-red lips.
Jack must have seen Alex move because he turned, double taking at the other student in the bar. “Alex.” He nodded and then turned on his heel and prowled away.
“Wait,” I turned to Alex. “Didn’t you want to talk to him?”
Alex shrugged. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll catch him at his later. It was just about Friday.”
“What?” Nothing made any sense. Was everyone talking in tongues? “His?”
“Yeah. He lives with my sister. They’ve been dating since their freshman year here at Berklee.”
The world tilted beneath my feet.
He had a …
Oh God.
All these years I’d mourned the boy I’d thought long dead.
And he was here… with someone else… the whole time.
A Collins.
“Lyra!” A strong arm caught me around my back as my legs gave out.
Chapter Twenty
Lyra
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” The mattress dipped and I blinked up into Eva’s face. One eye had eyeliner, the other hadn’t received its ministrations yet.
“Ugh, what time is it?”
“I think it’s time for you not to drink tequila for a while.”
Even the mention of it made my head thud. I clutched my forehead with my hand, groaning into the inner edge of my elbow.
“Party Lyra needs a detox.” She had a smile in her voice. I lowered my arm and cracked a painful eye open.
“I thought you wanted to party?”
“I did. Until I realized you were some kind of animal.”
I rolled my eyes at her which made my brain sting.
“Also… it’s Wednesday and you’ve got to see Greene. Remember?”
Ugh. Now I needed a drink again.
I’d decided since the revelations about Jack the other night, that as this was going to be my last week at college before I got successfully fired by the Collins Foundation, I’d make the most if it. Hell, the least I could do was make some good tales to tell Luca and Raven McSlutty Smoake.
I hadn’t been to one practice. Didn’t plan to.
Didn’t plan to see Greene today either. Call me childish, but that’s the way I planned for it to go down.
As messy as possible.
“Lyra, you know you can talk to me.” Eva grasped my hand, such a sweet gesture. “Especially if you tell me who the Smoking Hot Guy was who bought you home the other night.”
I had to remember who she could be talking about. Ah Evan.
“Calling him Smoking Hot Guy during my ‘personal care time’, is ruining the moment, if you know what I mean.” She winked and I tried very hard not to throw up stale tequila.
“That’s gross.”
“Not gross, just natural. So… names…”
“Evan. My boss.” At last I thought he was. Now I knew Jack Cross was the boss of me. Which was nothing new. He’d been boss of me my entire life.
Yeah, well no longer.
In my head his words from the store cupboard kept circling, playing on repeat no matter how much I wanted to ignore them. I can’t go home. Ever.
I didn’t believe for a moment he really wanted me to stay. Why would he? He was dating a Collins. Totally explained the car, owning a bar… maybe even the job with Greene.
I’d been such a fool.
Maybe he’d got caught in a sentimental moment where I showed him a glimpse of the past, something close to the home he’d had to leave.
That’s all I was.
“Have they got any vacancies?” Eva stared out of the window, the pale sunlight dancing off the shimmer on her cheeks.
“What?”
“Your work? Remember we were talking about your work. Have they got any vacancies?”
They’d have one next week that’s for sure.
“I don’t know. I could ask, I guess.”
“Cool, you’re a friend in a million. Right, shall we go shopping this afternoon for a dress for the gala? Only I’ve done some snooping through your closet and you don’t have anything even close to what you could wear to a Collins fundraiser.
My stomach twisted, bile running up my windpipe. Would he be there with her? Would she get to watch my downfall?
I guessed it was good that no one knew Jack and I were old acquaintances. At least I’d only be embarrassing myself on my epic bow out.
I couldn’t think of Grams. Couldn’t consider how disappointed she would be.
A knock from the door stopped our conversation.
“Who the hell is that? I haven’t finished my face.” Eva got up with a growl and pulled open the door.
“Well hello, big brother,” she sang.
“What?” I scrambled up from under my comforter.
“Lyra home?” Luca asked and Eva stepped to one side, giving him a not so subtle full body sweep, and pointed to where I sat frozen, wrapped like a burrito in a blanket.
“Luca, what are you doing here?”
He marched in like he owned the damn place. “You. Up. Now.” He pointed at me.
“What! You can’t just turn up and tell me what to do.” I sounded like a whiny child. Just add it to my list of childish dramatics I was working through.
“Up. Lyra.”
Grumbling, I threw back the covers.
“And shower. You look a mess.”
I pulled a face but didn’t answer.
“I’ll sit here and make friends with your roommate. Don’t rush.”
Eva glowed like the sun as she twirled in the middle of the room, but then caught sight of herself in the mirror and realized she still hadn’t done her makeup. She gave a screech and launched herself for her dresser. “Make yourself at home,” she called to Luca and I shut the door on them.
Luca would have her salivating and ready to put out in about five minutes.
That’s what he and Blue always did.
I shut the thought down. No more Blue. No more Jack. No more past.
The only issue to that plan was one very simple fact. How did I plan to go home to a future that I couldn’t see a path for?
I switched on the shower and waited for it to warm up. I’d need more tequila to answer that question.
By the time I’d stood under the shower as long as possible, pulled on my clothes and then scrunched some oil into my curls, the giggling from the bedroom had stopped.
I stepped out of the bathroom, hands in my pockets. Luca stretched out on my made bed, his ankles crossed, his arms above his head. “It’s a nice room isn’t it. So airy.”
“Airy? Are you all about interior design now?”
He rolled over onto his side and his dark brown gaze studiously swept over my face. “No. It feels different to home though.”
I couldn’t disagree.
<
br /> “What are you doing here, Luca?”
“Wellll, little sis. When I got a call yesterday morning, actually someone ringing to get hold of your guardian—I intercepted, you’re welcome—to say that they were worried about you, that you don’t seem to be settling, you haven’t been to your practices. I figured I’d better come see what was going on.”
My blood chilled. “Young or old person?”
Luca’s face flickered with a frown. “Jeez, I don’t know. I’m not the age police.” He rolled up, using those abs he worked so hard on, in one impressive fluid movement. “So is it true, have you been skipping class and missing practice?”
I huffed a breath and sat on the edge of Eva’s bed. “And you drove all this way to tell me off?” Typical big brother.
Luca shook his head. “No. I drove all this way because I’m worried about you. I didn’t tell Grams. She’d be gutted if she knew you weren’t enjoying it.”
Here we went. Guilt trip.
“It’s not that I’m not enjoying it, Luca. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Just I don’t think I’m good enough. Some of these kids are seriously talented. They know more than me, they play better than me, they care more than me.”
“You used to care.” Luca’s face darkened, like it always did whenever he referenced the person I used to be pre-August 2016.
I let out a slow breath. “I know. Thing is Luca, all these kids are amazing. I don’t know why I got the scholarship.”
I’d thought about it the last few days. Had it been Jack? Could he have influenced the Collins board? Would he have?
But whenever my thoughts circled in that direction, I ended up remembering his shock and fury at seeing me… something he still hadn’t explained, and nor would he now, what with operandi ignorius I had going on.
“Who cares, Lyra? Seriously, who gives a damn? YOU are the one who got it, not them.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “What if I want to come home?” I squeaked.
Luca’s gaze softened. “Then I’d say come home. Hell, I miss having you to take the piss out of at every opportunity. But come home for the right reasons, because you want to, because it’s your plan, you have a goal. Not because you’re running scared.”
