Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)

by A. L. Jackson

I somehow managed to tear my gaze from the hook of his and turned it on my friend.

  “Shea, I thought you’d given up your days at Charlie’s,” I tossed out like a tease as my lips stretched into a welcoming smile. With Shea, the truth of it was not so feigned.

  The smile she returned was pure and relieved, and I knew without a doubt she was wearing it because Sebastian was back in town.

  Shea came in for a hug, her baby bump prominent against my stomach.

  Yeah. Shea Stone had to be about the cutest pregnant girl you’d ever meet, her six-month belly looking like she’d done nothing other than stuff a basketball under her dress.

  No wonder Sebastian couldn’t stay away.

  I stepped back, squeezing her hands as I glanced up at her husband who edged in behind her, hands flattening possessively over her bump.

  I arched a brow his direction. “Ah…the infamous Sebastian Stone. What are you doing here? I thought Savannah was safe from the likes of you and your boys for at least another week. We should be ringing the town alarm.”

  A playful smirk filled up his face. “Like my boys are any more dangerous than you.”

  Ha. Not even close.

  Apparently appearances were deceiving.

  “Besides,” he continued, his voice going a little deeper as he kissed the side of Shea’s head, “couldn’t stay away a second longer.”

  Shea’s smile lit up the entire darkened room. “He was waiting at the house when I got back after we did your final dress fitting. You should have seen Kallie’s face when she saw her daddy standing on the porch waiting for us. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that little butterfly get out of the car so fast.”

  As rough as it’d been for both of them, Shea had returned to Savannah with her daughter two months ago, leaving Sebastian behind while Sunder finished up in the studio recording their latest album.

  Sebastian chuckled, nuzzled at her neck. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you get out of the car so fast, either.”

  “Can you blame me?” she whispered back.

  A fresh wave of awareness rippled out. Targeted. My body marked by crosshairs.

  That intensity wrapped and circled and ensnared.

  I shuddered out a breath and tried to remain strong. But there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t resist the power behind the stare I felt searing into my flesh.

  That unsteady feeling trembled beneath my feet and hummed in my ears

  My eyes flitted his direction.

  Powerless.

  Lyrik stood there looking at me, tattooed hands stuffed in his pockets. Everything about him was casual and unaffected. Yet striking and bold.

  Severe and cruel and altogether aloof.

  A damn enigma the very foolish side of me wanted to explore.

  Layer by layer.

  Touch by touch.

  I swallowed around the rock sitting at the base of my throat.

  I knew better than acting like a naïve school girl.

  He would come like a plunderer, swooping in and tearing everything in his path to shreds, setting the world on fire.

  With zero regret.

  Zero concern for the mayhem he caused.

  Zero remorse for his sins.

  He reveled in them.

  Like I said.

  Cruel.

  Ash’s brash voice broke the tension. “Did any of you really think Baz was gonna hang tight in L.A. for two months after Shea and Kallie came back here? Dude was about to lose his shit. Slave driver had our asses in the studio nonstop for the last week to wrap things up so we could get back here sooner.”

  He stretched out his tattooed arms. “Of course, since we’re talking about this group of badasses, wrapping up the album sooner was no problem. We make magic, baby.”

  Ash Evans had to be one of the cockiest guys I’d ever crossed paths with. Scary thing was, it just made him all the more endearing, added to the charm that oozed from him without a thought, the guy all charisma and dimples and ego for miles.

  And he was gorgeous.

  Poor girls didn’t stand a chance.

  But all that overconfidence? It was so different than Lyrik’s. Where Ash’s was friendly, Lyrik’s felt like a direct threat.

  “So I take it you’re all here to celebrate. Let me grab some drinks.” My eyes bounced over each of them, a little quicker over Lyrik.

  How obvious.

  Just awesome.

  “Everyone want their regular?” I asked.

  “Sounds good to me, darlin’,” Ash was all too quick to supply. “But considering the magnitude of what we’re celebrating, make them doubles.”

  “You do realize you always ask for doubles.”

  He laughed. “Then make them triples.”

  Good God.

  These guys were nothing but a pack of trouble. All except for Zee, who stepped up with an affectionate shake of his head, as if he were apologizing for the company he kept but wouldn’t have it any other way. He gave me a quick hug.

  “Nice to see you again, Tamar.”

  “Good to see you, too.”

  He headed for the secluded booth Sebastian had first claimed then Sunder had made their own.

  Shea called, “Thank you,” as Sebastian began pulling her toward the booth. Ash was all too keen to follow.

  Lyrik seemed slow to conform as he cast me one more unsettling glance over his shoulder, as if he was making sure to drag my attention with him.

  To torture me a little more.

  Forcing myself back behind the bar, I filled three rocks glasses half-full with Jager.

  The pour of the thick, dark liquid reminded me of the promise in Lyrik’s eyes. A tempting, seductive vow of a night filled with delicious, carnal fun.

  But that promise came with the consequence of a nasty hangover in the morning.

  I did the same with Sebastian Stone’s ridiculously expensive tequila he liked to drink and grabbed a bottle of water for Shea, then arranged everything on a tray. I wove back through the growing crowd.

  Ash grinned up at me as I passed out the shots. “Ah…never thought I’d say it, but it is good to be back in Savannah. Tell me, Tam Tam, have these walls been missing me? How about those ladies? Tell me they’ve been asking for me. You know once I make an appearance, the place isn’t ever gonna be the same.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Hardly. Half the female population is scarred from your last appearance.”

  “Oh come now. Don’t act like you don’t know my presence just makes everything better.” The dimples in his cheeks deepened. “Kind of like bacon. Put it on a burger. Better. Put it on a salad. Better. Spread Ash around. Better.”

  I couldn’t help it. Laughter escaped, all incredulous and full of disbelief, but there, nonetheless.

  “See…” he prodded like he’d just proven a new theorem, “better. Admit you missed me.”

  “Okay, okay, if it’ll shut you up then I’ll gladly cop to missing you.”

  Ash was the first to lift his glass. “To Baz and Beautiful Shea, two people who love each other so much they think they need to get married twice.”

  Zee laughed, Lyrik grinned.

  “But for real…the two of you?” Ash continued, “You’ve got something good. Don’t ever give it up.”

  Don’t ever give it up.

  The words rang through my mind, and a flash of sadness threatened to swallow me whole and take me under. I squeezed my eyes closed, lifted my glass, and threw back the shot. A fiery burn rolled hot down my throat, wrapping me like a warm blanket as it settled in my belly.

  Soothing the rough edges that kept trying to fray.

  I refused to give in to the memories that raved in the depths of my conscious where I’d left them, struggling to find their way out. For four years, I’d done just fine. I’d stepped into the shoes of the girl I wanted to be and shunned it all.

  The past was the past. I needed to leave it there.

  But all that fear was fighting for a rebound.

  I was n
o fool. I knew why. The proof of it was in the Facebook message I’d received two months ago on my inactive account. It was one I’d seen during a weak moment. Swamped in loneliness and regret, I’d signed on with my IP address turned off.

  I’d just needed a glimpse of my family. To be reminded of their faces. To catch a hint of their voices.

  To feel as if I were a part of their lives when I’d torn myself from it four years before.

  As if those crumbs could ever be enough.

  But it was the waiting message that had literally dropped me to my knees.

  We need your help. We understand your hesitation, but we need any information you can give us on Cameron Lucan. Please contact me as soon as possible.

  As much as I kept trying to pretend it didn’t matter, that my getting involved wouldn’t change a thing, those thoughts kept creeping back in.

  Prodding.

  Goading.

  Spurring.

  Forcing me to look behind at a past I’d done everything to forget.

  Add Lyrik into the mix?

  I could feel fissures splintering my walls, that firm foundation crumbling beneath my feet.

  Giving them my best smile, I glanced over my shoulder. “Looks like Charlie is getting slammed. Better rescue the old man before things start to get ugly over there. I’ll send one of the servers over to make sure you’re all taken care of.”

  “Thanks, Tamar.” Shea looked at me as if she were apologizing I couldn’t stay, when in truth, I couldn’t wait to get away.

  I got back to work, letting myself get lost in the vibe, the urgency I fed on as darkness covered the room and the country band played on, quick to sling drinks and even quicker to shoot down advances from overly friendly men.

  Maybe it was wrong it made me feel strong. As if for a little while, I was in complete control. Like no one could touch me or pollute me. Even though I knew it was nothing more than an illusion.

  “Running low on Goose, Charlie. I’m gonna run back to storage and grab some.”

  “Not a problem, sugar. We’re hanging in just fine up here.”

  I headed through the kitchen to the back storage room.

  With my foot, I pushed the step stool over to the section with the different vodkas stacked on the shelves, and climbed up so I could reach a box of Grey Goose on the top.

  Carefully, considering I was going down backward wearing five-inch heels, I maneuvered down, box balanced in one arm while I held on to the metal bar of the shelf with the other.

  I turned around.

  A yelp flew from me when I found the lone figure leaning up against the shelved wall.

  My heart galloped like a sprint of horses, a riot of hooves beating against my chest.

  Hands shaking so badly, I barely righted the box before it crashed to the floor.

  Why are you doing this to me?

  “What do you think you’re doing back here?” I finally managed, the first words just as shaky as my hands, the last filling with indignant anger.

  Why?

  Lyrik let that lazy smirk take over his too-pretty face. Shadows played across one side, making him appear more dangerous than normal.

  “Lookin’ for you.”

  I pushed off the intrigue gathering fast, ignored the beat of my heart and the want in my belly as I forced out the words, sharp and severe. “Well, you can stop looking for me, because I don’t want to be found.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “What is it you think you want from me, Lyrik?”

  I’d spent all of last summer dodging his advances, doing my best to repel him with every bitchy rejection I could throw his way. It was time to put an end to this.

  My words were hard and harsh, fueled by the desperation buried underneath. I just hoped it wasn’t the most apparent. “Do you want a quick fuck? Do you want me to drop to my knees and suck your dick and send you on your merry way? There are plenty of other girls out there begging for the job. Do me a favor and stop chasing me.”

  Riding on the rush of adrenaline, I stalked for the door.

  Voice rough, his words hit me from behind, that overwhelming presence just as close. “Like those eyes chase me?”

  Chills traveled my spine as the rest of my body froze.

  Overtaken by this attraction.

  Why did I want him so badly?

  But I guess the saying was true. We always want what we shouldn’t have.

  Slowly I turned. That strong, beautiful body towered over me. Mine reacted to the nearness.

  Heat.

  Fire.

  Need.

  He hooked his finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him through the dusky confines of the enclosed room. “You think I don’t see you, Red. Watching. Wanting. Just because you refuse to let the words fall from your mouth, doesn’t mean they’re not true.”

  My teeth ground, every inch of me at war, my hatred of how he made me feel—hatred of that old, naïve weakness—up against the seeds of trust that wanted to make their way out.

  It felt like a tornado gaining speed.

  Lights flickered behind my eyes and a thrill rushed through my nerves.

  No. No. No.

  “What would be so bad about spending a night with me?”

  And that was just it.

  The only thing I’d ever be.

  Easy, forgettable sex.

  Another in a million faceless women.

  A quick fuck that didn’t even last long enough to be considered a fling. Hurt balled behind my ribs. Funny how his proposition felt like a rejection.

  “Oh, I could think of plenty of things.” Like my heart and the sanctity of my mind.

  I struggled to resurrect the façade. To erect that rigid, impenetrable armor.

  I wiggled the fingers of my free hand in front of his face and fired the words like bullets. “Believe me, I’d rather spend the night with these than with you.”

  He snatched me by the wrist.

  My mouth dropped open in shock. At the heat of his hold. At the weight of his stare.

  The man took full advantage of my momentary stupor, those dark eyes gleaming as he slowly sucked my middle two fingers into the fever of his mouth.

  A panicked, strangled gasp wheezed from my throat, expanding my too-tight lungs.

  Flames ignited, a fire set to my veins, spreading fast and coalescing as a hot melting point right between my thighs.

  That smirk was in full force when he let my fingers free with a pop.

  Then he went and shocked me again when he pressed my hand to his chest. It felt way too strong, and damn it, his heart had to have been beating just as hard as mine.

  Something flashed in those eyes. Something soft. That was all it took, and something soft inside me wanted to give.

  To give up and give it all.

  Then that wicked mouth ticked up at the side, and he guided my trembling hand down.

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  While I stood like a sucker allowing it.

  He stopped just above the obvious bulge straining from his too tight jeans.

  “Oh, I’m sure your hands work wonders, but honestly, I had other things in mind.”

  My senses came rushing back.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  That’s what soft got me.

  It left me no more than a pawn in an elaborate game.

  I jerked myself free, begging my feet to cooperate as I scrambled for the door with all the confidence I had left, digging deep for the strength that was dwindling fast.

  By the time I got to the door, my chin was lifted high.

  Because I remembered.

  Remembered who I’d fought so hard to become.

  At the door I stopped and glared at him from over my shoulder. “Not on your life.”

  He just smiled that smug, cocky smile, as if he could see right through me. “All you have to say is no, Red.”

  I raised a middle finger.

  Take t
hat as my no, asshole.

  “You can go fuck yourself.”

  He laughed and those black eyes shimmered. “Nah, baby. Unlike you, I’m not so keen to go at it alone.”

  “You’re such an asshole.”

  “And you, Red, are an uptight bitch.”

  He wasn’t the first guy to call me a bitch.

  Usually, it didn’t bother me.

  Hell, most of the time I took it as a compliment. An affirmation that no one would dare mess with me.

  But Lyrik calling me a bitch? It was the first time it stitched these thick, suffocating threads of sadness and anger through my heart.

  God, he was such an egotistical, shameless bastard.

  And I was an idiot for allowing it to hurt.

  I should have turned and walked.

  Closed my mouth.

  But I couldn’t stop it from tumbling free.

  “So a girl’s a bitch just because she won’t jump in your bed?” I was sure the shake of my head revealed too much.

  Disgust. Disappointment. Defeat.

  “You know what, Lyrik? Maybe I want more in my life. And I won’t allow you to reach out and take what I don’t want to give.”

  I was pissed.

  Shaken.

  Determined to put Lyrik back in his place.

  They’d ordered another round of drinks.

  I was quick to mix them, whipping up something extra special for one Lyrik West. Just because I liked him so much.

  An hour had passed since he’d cornered me in the storage room, and just as much time had gone by since he’d returned to the booth, the table now sporting the addition of three girls.

  Shea and Sebastian had called upon their good sense and vacated.

  Now Zee was sitting there basically alone, playing on his phone while one girl sat sideways across Ash’s lap, arms laced around his neck, garnering all his attention.

  It was the two hanging like sparkly ornaments from Lyrik’s sides that had me on the rampage.

  His arms were draped around their shoulders as he sat kicked back in the seat.

  Not a care in the world.

  A low growl gathered at the base of my throat.

  Didn’t take him long.

  What a pig.

  And why the hell did it piss me off so bad?

  But it did.

  Truth was, I was irate. Something about it left me feeling used and dirty and disposable.

  Glasses clanked as I threw their drinks on the tray, and even though I wasn’t a server, I was damned well going to deliver them myself.