Worthy of You: Book One in The Haze Nightclub Series

by Kandee Reyna

  Krysta’s body twisting away from me wakes me. It’s light outside now, the sun is high, and I know it’s well past morning. My body protests as I sit up and lean against the wall again. My head is pounding worse than the hangover I had after my seventeenth birthday party when Trenton Michael brought Ever Clear to the party to spike the punch. Only this time, it wasn’t alcohol that caused it.

  “He’s gone,” Krysta says quietly as she moves away from the peephole. Fresh tears spill over and she leaves me, the door to the bathroom clicks shut. It shouldn’t hurt this bad. I should be relieved he finally gave up and went home, but I’m not. It’s like a slap to the face that he gave up and is gone. I open my mouth in a silent scream, sobs torturing my body again. I stand and move to my bed, stripping out of my clothes, and huddling under the covers. Pretending they’re enough protection from the outside, enough protection from the pain that’s eating me alive. Enough protection from the monsters lurking in my soul. I close my eyes and slip back into oblivion.

  Dreams of Renee and Milo living happily ever after.

  Dreams of Renee and Milo catching fire and burning to ash.

  “Ree.” Krysta’s voice breaks into my dream. “Ree!” She says louder, and I peel my eyes open.

  “What?”

  “Trevor called and asked if he needed to cover your shift again tonight.”

  “Tonight?” I sit up, blinking the sleep from my eyes.

  “Yeah, Babe. You slept fourteen hours. If I hadn’t checked you were still breathing a few times, I would have thought you were dead.” Her joke can’t even get an eye roll out of me.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost four.” I don’t need to be there for two more hours.

  “No, I’ll take it.” Concern flashes across her face before she pulls her mask down.

  “Okay. I’ll let him know. I’ll get you something to eat, too.”

  I don’t even protest. I don’t have the energy to eat, let alone fight with Krysta right now. I drag my body out of bed and to the window. The black town car Anthony drives is sitting on the curb, and my heart leaps into my throat. I fight back tears and make myself walk away from the glass. A car on the curb means nothing, it doesn’t change the outcome of this situation. I float through my shower, not fully aware of my moves; my body on autopilot. I step out and dress before going into the kitchen to figure out how to ward off Krysta and the take-out I smell.

  “Sit. Eat.” She says setting a full container of Chinese on the table. I slide into the chair and pick at it with my fork, the food in front of me turning to a blurry mess of colors; my eyes not focusing on anything. “I talked to Trevor. He’s taking over your shifts for the next few days. You can have your stuff emailed to you for school. Take a breather.” Her voice sounds far away, and as blurry as my food. I should be protesting because I need the money, but I don’t have it in me to even speak right now.

  “I’m going back to Texas.” I say after an uncomfortable silence, surprising even myself.

  “What?” Krysta turns pale.

  “Not for good. Just for the few days you got me off.” I put my fork down, done pretending. “I just need to go home for a while.”

  “I’ve never heard you say that before.” Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is open.

  I just bob my head in reply. “I’m going to go call my dad.” I slip out of the chair, dialing his number on the way back to my room. It’s been too long since I’ve heard his voice, seen his face. He answers on the third ring.

  “Daddy?” My voice cracks.

  “Sunshine, what’s wrong? Anxiety bubbles in his words.

  “Nothing a trip to Texas can’t fix.” I huff a laugh through tears.

  “No, Sunshine. There’s nothing at trip to Texas can’t fix. I’ll book you a ticket, and before you protest, let your old man do this for you. I know you’re strong and independent and all that feminist junk.” I roll my eyes and give a pained laugh. Oh, Daddy.

  “Thank you.” I say simply.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll text you the details and get your room ready.”

  I hang up and turn to pack. According to Krysta I have three days to ‘relax and feel better.’ Whatever the fuck that means. I throw in a carry on what I know will be comfortable, grab my copy of Broken by Ellie Messe and head out the door, kissing Krysta on the cheek and promising to call her. I step out onto the street, looking for the Uber I’ve called. Instead, I come face-to-face with Anthony, holding open the back door to his car, expecting me to get in.

  “I’ve got a ride.” I state simply, scanning my eyes up and down the street.

  “This one’s free.” He shrugs. “Milo isn’t here, Renee.” He says to further convince me. “I have orders to take you where ever you’re going.”

  “You mean you have orders to babysit me?” I snap.

  He shrugs again, “I have orders to keep you safe, and it makes my job hard when you’re in the back of someone else’s car.”

  I look heavenward for a second, and then sigh and cancel the car that is suddenly ten more minutes out. “Fine. But I swear on everything that’s holy if you take me back to Lo’s I will cut off your fucking balls and take them to Texas with me.” I point a finger at him, still rooted in my spot.

  He chuckles and shakes his head at my crassness. “Texas, huh?”

  “Yes. Texas.” I say climbing in the back seat.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to Texas,” He considers from the front. My pulse spikes in my neck, worrying he’s going to take me back and I’ll have to make good on my promise to take is balls with me on dry ice in a fucking cooler. “But, I’d rather be whole for the trip.” His twinkling eyes meet mine in the mirror and I relax into my seat, seeing his humor. “So, the airport then?”

  I nod, “Yeah. I’ve got a flight to catch.”

  He pulls his phone out and it looks like he’s typing out a text before he sticks it back in his pocket and pulls away from the curb, heading in the direction of the airport. I get a sinking feeling that message that he sent was to Lo, letting him know where I was headed. The empty feeling that has settled in my stomach is preventing me from caring if he knows what I’m up to, though. I lay my head back, not thinking about much of anything until we get to the airport, but instead of pulling into the drop off lane, he parks his car in the over-night section.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, suspicion creeping into my voice.

  “Parking the car. Out you go.” He says, holding open my door and shrugging.

  “Why did you park here?”

  “I don’t want to get towed.” He shrugs again. Swear to God if he shrugs his shoulders one more time I’m going to weigh them down with sand bags.

  “You don’t have to walk me in.” I try.

  “We can walk separately if you want, but it would be… weird, and make my job harder.” He shuts the door behind me and grabs an overnight bag from his trunk.

  “You just keep a bag of clothes in your trunk?” I’m dumbfounded.

  “Always, now come on. We don’t want to be late.”

  “We?” I’m still not willing to believe he’s following me to Texas.

  “Yes, we.” And for the first time ever he sounds exasperated with me.

  “You’re not going with me!” I shriek. “I’m leaving to get away! Not have someone, anyone, YOU, follow me.” I cross my arms walking faster.

  “Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to feed me or anything. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to,” His voice raises as I put more space between us, “but I’m following you. I have orders.”

  “He’s NOT my boyfriend anymore! You can leave. You can go. We’re nothing!” And that hurts me more than I expect. I press my palm against my chest, trying to push away the pain that starts to radiate from my rib cage to the ends of my limbs and I stop walking.

  Anthony catches up, “Come on, Renee.” His voice is soothing and fatherly.

  My steps falter as I start walking again a
nd we fall into a silent march through security and then to the tarmac. We settle into our seats, yes, our seats. I have no idea how the hell he ended up right. Next. To. Me. But he did, and I’m not even surprised. I feel sorry for whoever had their seat taken from them at the last minute.

  “Don’t you have a family?” I ask quietly as he lets out a breath and buckles his seatbelt.

  “Yes.” That’s all I get, and I realize I’m prying. I also realize my impromptu visit to Texas has turned into one for him too. I wonder if he’s pissed about following me half way across the country.

  “I’m sorry you have to follow me.” I say, my voice small.

  He turns his head to look me in the eyes, “I’m keeping you safe. It’s my job. I’ll give you your space, though. I promise.” And with that, he places earbuds in his ears, and pulls up an audio book on his phone, effectively giving me my “space” and blocking me out. The ache in my bones is just too much for me, and I close my eyes, losing the pain and longing to sleep.

  Chapter Thirty: Renee

  “Sunshine!” My dad wraps his arms around me, grabbing my bag. My dad is a good-looking man. Six feet of farm-built muscle wrapped up in Levi’s, boots, and button- down shirts. He’s got that good ‘ol boy air about him that never seems to fade with his blue eyes and neatly kept blond hair. “God I’ve missed you,” he hauls me along with him, ushering me to his red Ford that he’s had since I was a little girl. Anthony disappeared immediately after we landed to pick up his rental, telling me he’d be “around.” I didn’t even offer to give him my dad’s address because I’m not an idiot. I know he probably has it programed into his GPS already. “Let’s get you home and you can freshen up. We’ll head over to The Griddle for dinner when you’re finished.” I nod my head and climb up into the cab of his truck. It smells of Texas heat and dried corn husks; it smells like home. Tears pool in my eyes and I stare out the window, blinking them away.

  I make a beeline for the shower after a silent ride to the house. My dad knows there’s something up, but he lets it go. I think he can see I’m barely holding on right now. I shut myself in my old bathroom and if my head wasn’t so fucked-off right now, I might have laughed at how my dad still hasn’t changed the baby-pink walls and white décor. I strip out of my airplane scented clothes and stand under the spray of the shower, letting the water wash away the last pieces that held me together through the plane ride. A sob rips from my throat and I cover my mouth with my hand, so my dad won’t hear me falling apart. I sink down and bury my face in my knees. Why does this shit hurt so bad? You did this to yourself. A voice in my head whispers harshly. I did, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be right again. I stay on the floor until the water turns cold and I drag myself up and out, toweling off my body.

  I swipe a break in the fog on the mirror and the woman staring back at me with her red eyes and splotchy face looks lost and empty.

  My dad knocks at the door, “Sunshine? We got about an hour before they close the kitchen, baby.”

  “Almost done.” I say back, watching the mouth of the lost and empty woman move, speaking the same words as me; her voice equally as hollow. I look away.

  I came here to forget.

  Forget.

  I came to forget.

  I repeat my mantra while I pull on my shorts and t-shirt and slip into my Chucks. “Ready.” I call down the hallway to my dad and I find him sitting at the kitchen table talking on the phone.

  “Sorry.” I mouth when he looks up at me. He gives me a tight-lipped smile back, and I walk around him, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator and uncapping it.

  “Well, I appreciate the call, but it wasn’t needed. I can handle things.” I sit down at the table, waiting for him to finish up with whoever he’s talking to. Probably someone telling him his cows got out in the back pasture again. “She’ll be fine.” Who? Me? “Look,” he says loudly into the phone and stands up, walking out of the room. “You stay away from her. You’ve done enough already.” The urge to puke climbs into my throat from my stomach, and my head swims. Lo. He’s talking to Lo. “I wish I could say the same.” He grounds out and then walks back into the kitchen, his eyes on me.

  “I don’t want to know.” I say, holding up my hand before he starts talking.

  “Fine.” He nods his head a few times, slipping his phone back into his front pocket. “Let’s go get you some food, Sunshine.”

  I stand on shaky legs, not sure if they’re going to carry me, but I find they do, and follow my father out the front door. We ride in silence to the restaurant and he’s half way through his meal before he bangs his fist on the table.

  “God damn it, Renee.” My dad never did either of those two things, cuss or take the Lord’s name in vain. I startle and make eye contact with him. “You haven’t even touched your food, and I know it’s your favorite,” He holds up one finger and I look down at my uneaten burger. He’s going to list things. A list. Like I gave Lo the second night we were together. If I wasn’t being scolded I would have smiled, “You haven’t said more than four words to me,” Second finger, “Your eyes are red and puffy, and I heard you crying in the shower,” His face compresses and another wave of ache pulls at my heart. He holds up a third finger, “and if I hadn’t figured it out myself, I know you’re hurting because Milo Turner gave me a call while you were getting ready for the evening.” I can’t breathe; shit, shit. I really can’t breathe. Thinking his name and hearing it out loud are two different things, and the latter isn’t something my soul is ready for yet.

  “Dad…” I don’t even have words to make sentences with as I rapidly push and pull air in and out of my body.

  “Sunshine. I know, baby. I know what it feels like to hurt. I felt it with your mom. I did. I get it, but becoming catatonic isn’t going to solve anything.” I close my eyes. He’s putting me on the wrong side of this. I am Mom in this. I left. I chose not to stick it out, to leave when it got hard, to escape before I had to do any of the heavy lifting. “Sunshine look at me.” He says softly. “He doesn’t blame you. I told him to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine, because, no man is going to call me and tell me something about my baby girl I don’t know. I do know, though, if you came running home it had to have been rough, because you didn’t come home when Josh—”

  “Jeff.” This time I do crack a smile, he could never remember his name; but remembered Lo’s after one over-the-phone conversation.

  “Jeff and you ended things. Just know I’m not judging you or expecting anything from you while you’re here. You’re here to mend and I would be lying if I said it didn’t tickle me pink that you’re home.” He shakes his head and pushes a blowing laugh to the surface, “So I’m gonna let you pull yourself together before you go back; because you’re strong and capable of doing so. I’m here for you if you want to talk. I’m here if you don’t want to talk about it, heck, I’m here for you if you want to go into the field and blow some stuff up. I’m sure we could round up some tannerite for you.” He winks at me.

  “I love you Daddy.” I whisper through my tears.

  “I love you too baby. Let’s get a to-go box so you can take home that food, yeah?” I nod in agreement and he sends me to the truck to wait for him while he settles the tab.

  I spent the remainder of my time working in the garden, helping my dad with the farm from sun up to sun down, and falling into bed at night too tired to dwell on Milo and my leaving. I came in at night, showered, checked my phone, and cried myself to sleep. Hurting more than I should, but less than I deserved, that I had no missed calls from Lo.

  It’s my last night at home and I’m lying in bed talking to Krysta about coming back to New York.

  “Do you want me to come pick you up from the airport?”

  “No, I’m sure I’ll be riding bitch with Anthony.” Snark colors my words. “Have you heard anything?” I ask quietly. I’m not even sure if I want to know, but I’m a sadist, so I ask anyway.

  “He came by actually…”
She trails off, gauging my reaction. She takes my silence as a cue to continue, “He misses you, girl. He looks like shit; nothing like the well put together Lo we know.”

  Part of me is happy to hear he is feeling just as shitty as me, but the bigger part of me feels like trash for making him feel horrible. I didn’t get to see what my mom did to my dad, I was too young. I have seen the repercussions of a man losing the woman he loves, though. His singleness is a big fat punch in the face if what we had is anything close to what my dad felt for her. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose someone you love, if this is what it feels like to lose Lo.

  “I can’t Krys.” I rasp.

  “I know, and I told him as much. He dropped something off for you and I already warned him if it was another bracelet it wouldn’t bode well.”

  “Thanks. I’m gonna try to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Kay. Love you, chickee.”

  “Love you more.” I roll over and cry myself to dreams of Lo and me.

  Chapter Thirty-one: Lo

  “You look like fucking shit.”

  “Fuck off.” I raise my eyes from the cluster fuck of paperwork that’s been piling up on my desk. I can only imagine what my office looks like, but I haven’t been by to check.

  “He’s close to getting the police in his pocket.” Max states, rocking back on his heels. “My men have been watching him. He’s behaving like a fucking boy scout. Not getting into much of anything, but Rey did find out he’s waiting for a big shipment that’s due in the next few days, and he’s desperate for a place to… store it.” We both know ‘it’ is girls. Girls that are probably scared as fuck, begging to be returned to their war-torn countries, knowing what they’re headed to is no better and less likely to yield sweet, silent death.