Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)

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Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3) Page 31

by A. L. Jackson


  She headed from the bedroom and I followed. In the living room, the curtains were drawn, the place dimmed out but the evidence from the party the night before still strewn all about the room.

  For two beats, Kenzie hesitated at the rattling door, sucking in a breath, before she clicked the lock and slowly opened it.

  Immediately the knocking ended as a flood of blinding light gushed into the room. A sizzling outline of a single dark figure in the middle of it gave the perception of a man on fire.

  No question, that’s exactly what he was.

  Kenzie just stood there with me five feet behind her, like a monster lurking in the dusky shadows.

  For a moment it was utter relief. There was no missing it. Like the only thing in the world her dad wanted was for her to be okay. It took all of a second before the rage came rushing back.

  “Get in the car.” It was low and full of a threat.

  “Daddy.” She reached out a hand like she wanted to soothe him. Ease him and beg him at the same time.

  “There’s nothing to discuss, Kenzie. Get in the car.”

  She hesitated and I took a step forward into the light.

  Revealing myself.

  Brown eyes, the same color as Kenzie’s, flew up to clash with mine. But where hers were soft and sweet, his burned with hatred. It was barely contained.

  “Get in the car,” he gritted again, his attention fully locked on me, that glare holding the strength to cut me in two.

  When she didn’t move, he grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her out into the day.

  She yelped, and I knew he wasn’t hurting her, that this guy was only there to protect, but I couldn’t stop myself from surging forward. I came to a hard stop when he forced her behind him.

  A living wall of aggression.

  His eyes wandered, scrutinizing, taking me in, adding me up. I stood there in my super-tight black jeans and ratted-out tee, the new tat I’d just gotten inked on the outside of my upper arm clear and standing out, black hair an unruly disaster.

  That hatred deepened.

  “You think it’s fun to play around with a little girl?” he suddenly spat.

  “I’m not a little girl,” Kenzie argued quietly.

  He threw a warning glance at her, before he was back on me, hostility increasing with every second that passed.

  He pointed at me. “Stay away from my daughter.”

  I rubbed my fingers across my mouth, dropped my focus to my feet like they held an answer. Slowly I looked back at him, trying to keep any animosity from my tone. “That’s gonna be a problem.”

  “A problem?” he seethed, stepping forward and jutting out his chest. “You are the problem, and I promise you, the next time you even look at my daughter, the police are getting involved.”

  Didn’t mean to scoff, but it was there. “You and I both know nothing will come of that. You really think they care about a girl who’s gonna turn eighteen in a few months and a guy who’s twenty? No disrespect, but your daughter isn’t a little girl anymore.”

  “Yeah? Well, she’s my little girl. A girl who used to be a straight-A student. One I could trust not to tell me lies. And since she’s been hanging out with the likes of you, that’s all I get. A bunch of lies. Calls about her skipping school. Grades falling through the floor.”

  Like he’d just been struck with the thought to do it, his attention drifted into the living room. It left me wishing I’d done a quick sweep. So no, there was nothing concrete laying out, but the remnants were damned near incriminating enough.

  It was blatant.

  The intense pain that slammed him, gripping him whole like he’d had the sudden onslaught of a heart attack.

  He seemed to have trouble standing. “You really want to drag her into your mess? Ruin her life? Look at you,” he wheezed. It was something between an insult and him pleading with me to see reason.

  Guilt spun through me again.

  Winding me tight.

  She was too good for this life.

  “If you care about her at all, stay away from my daughter.” The command was hard, lined with steel, sustained by his love for her.

  And it fucking hurt. Standing there like a punk.

  Knowing he was right.

  Wanting to fight back, all the same.

  Guess we both heard her crying softly at the same time, because the two of us cringed in response, before we tightened again.

  The words were spoken barely above a breath. “Daddy…I love him.”

  I love him.

  She’d never said those words before. And they terrified me, filled me up and left me flat.

  What had I done?

  He didn’t respond to her, resentment still aimed at me. “Stay away from her.”

  He took her by the arm and dragged her out to the car waiting at the curb.

  Kenzie pleaded with me from over her shoulder.

  Do something.

  And I wanted to. To change something. Just had no idea what that was.

  Three weeks passed in a desolate confusion, me missing her like mad and filling my veins full of anything that might soothe it. So fucking high. So fucking low. Needing more and more and more. Of course, no one in the house noticed because they were all just as fucked up.

  Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, baby.

  Never really knew what that meant until then. It was an endless cycle that gobbled you up before you even knew what was happening.

  Just a bunch of heedless rats jumping on the rodent wheel.

  Spin.

  Spin.

  Spin.

  Of course, I was missing out on the sex part because no matter how many girls walked through the door, I was only waiting for her.

  I texted her too many times and kept calling the same number that had been disconnected. Over and over again, like a fool expecting a different result.

  They say that’s the definition of insanity.

  Wasn’t going to argue the logic of that. I felt it. My brain slowly coming unhinged as my body gave.

  In the bathroom, I regarded the red-eyed reflection staring back at me, splashed some cold water on my face as if it might clear the daze. Knocking my forehead into the bathroom mirror, I groaned.

  God, I had to get myself together.

  Scratching my head, I shuffled out, crossed the hall, and opened my bedroom door. I faltered to a stop and the breath punched from my lungs.

  Sitting on the floor, leaning up against the far wall under the window, was Kenzie. She was a mess, cheeks stained with tears, hair matted in chunks where it clung to her soaked skin.

  I shot across the room and dropped to my knees. Praying she wasn’t some sort of hallucination. I took her by the face. “Kenz…baby…you’re here.”

  I was wiping away her tears with my thumbs, knowing it was stupid I was simultaneously smiling like a fool when she looked this way, but I couldn’t help it.

  She was here.

  She sniffled and shuddered, breaking my hold as she brought her arm up to wipe away the tears with the sleeve of her shirt.

  I ran my fingers through her hair. “What’s wrong, baby, you don’t look happy to see me.” I tried to tease, hating the way she flinched when I said it. A slow dread laced with the relief I’d felt at finding her there.

  She looked down, and I hooked my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Her face pinched. “I’m pregnant.”

  I stumbled back. Knocked on my ass. “What? How?”

  Incredulous, she laughed like I might be a little dense, the words oozing out like an accusation. “In the four months we’ve been sleeping together, did you ever use a condom? Did you ever take me to get pills?”

  She pressed her fingertips into both eyes. “God. We’re so stupid,” she whispered. “So reckless and irresponsible. Just like my dad told me. He was right, Lyrik. He was totally right. I got so caught up in being with you, I never even thought about the consequences.”


  I’d backed into the bed, propped up on it as I looked at her. Helpless.

  Tears kept streaming down her face, and I wanted to ask her what she wanted to do—what I could do—but all of a sudden she thrashed, like she were in physical pain. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, voice a flood of torment. “What if I hurt him?”

  Jesus.

  I guessed that was my answer, because Kenzie was holding herself like she was holding it.

  And I was kind of in shock. Had no clue what I’d gotten myself into. How to manage the shift from five minutes ago to now.

  But there was one thing I knew.

  I moved to her, climbed to my feet while picking her up at the same time, one arm under her back and the other under her knees. I carried her to my bed and lay down with her curled up against me, whispered at her head. “I’m in this with you, Kenz. We can do this.”

  Gaze intense, she inched back so she could see my face. “I know we can, Lyrik. But I need to know if you want to.”

  A soft smile pulled all around my mouth. Maybe there should have been hesitation. There wasn’t. “Yeah, I do.”

  She chewed at her bottom lip, hard…hard like it was difficult for her to say. “We have to stop.”

  I knew exactly what she was saying. What she was implying. Leaving the mess behind that was close to consuming me, the constant parties and drugs and endless nights.

  “I know. I will.” I kissed across her knuckles. “I promise.”

  A fresh round of tears slipped from her eyes, but these weren’t so sad. “Tell me you love me.”

  I brushed the hair back from her face so I could see those brown eyes. Big and wide and full of trust. I gave her the complete and utter truth.

  “You sing my soul.”

  I lay curled on the cold linoleum floor. Naked. Shaking. Freezing cold and sweating all the same.

  I lurched, just making it back onto my knees to puke some more.

  Everything hurt.

  But they were worth it.

  “What the fuck, man, you can’t just leave.”

  Ash was on my heels, chasing me from room to room while I packed my things, like it was going to alter my decision.

  I hoisted my guitar case to the table and lay my baby in the velvet. I snapped it closed. “Yes, I can.”

  “What about the band?”

  A nagging ache tugged somewhere deep in my chest. It was from that place where I’d grown up dreaming about me and the rest of the guys making it big. Dreams of playing the music I loved widespread enough that someone else might love it, too. It was all mixed up with my loyalty to the guys, my friends that had always been more like family than anything else.

  But none of that mattered now. I glanced at Ash who was fisting his hair like it might wake him up from a nightmare.

  I gave him a shrug that was somehow loaded with guilt. “You know I can’t go on livin’ this life and have a family. Two just don’t mix.”

  “Why not? I mean, come on. You’re just going to up and leave us hanging…after everything? We’re so close, man. So fucking close I can taste it, and we can’t do it without you.”

  I hefted the case from the table. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to.”

  It was always a little bit awkward pulling up in front of the house of a guy you knew hated your guts.

  For the last two months, I’d chilled at my parents’ place, working my ass off at the shop where I’d gotten a job. I loved cars and bikes about as much as I loved my guitar, so it really wasn’t all that bad of a gig. I’d saved every damn penny I’d earned except for the bit I gave my mom to cover my stay, scrimping enough together for the deposit and the first and last month’s rent on a tiny one-bedroom apartment.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have been all that surprised when we found out Kenzie had pretty much gotten pregnant straight off. Could I really have expected anything else? But I guess when you’re living in a haze day after day, you remain out of touch of reality, little thought given to repercussions and results.

  But honestly, I couldn’t say I regretted it or wished I could change it, even if ours wasn’t the most ideal situation in the world. She made me fucking happy and I knew I made her that way, too.

  I clicked open my door and she came running out. She was just now showing, her tiny frame giving way to her five-month bump.

  After tonight she’d be going home with me. She was eighteen and finally mine.

  Not that her parents hadn’t thrown up all kinds of roadblocks, trying to keep us apart.

  Maybe they wanted to see if I’d stick around.

  Maybe they wanted to see if she’d change her mind.

  But my dedication had never wavered or faltered in that time, even when I’d been threatened with arrest and a record tied to my name. Of course, that’s all any of it had turned out to be.

  Threats.

  She threw herself in my arms, and I lifted her, swinging her around. “Happy Birthday, Kenz.”

  “Best birthday ever,” she squealed through her excitement.

  Yeah. She most definitely had not changed her mind.

  Laughing, I set her down, wrapped my hand up in hers. “You’re really gonna put me through this, huh?”

  She stepped out in front of me, still holding my hand, grinning as she walked backward and led me up the walk. “How are they supposed to fall in love with you if they don’t know you?”

  “I can think of quite a few things I’m sure your dad would rather do to me than fall in love,” I said, letting the sarcasm drip free.

  She giggled. “Oh, come on, don’t be a wuss. There’s a whole lot to love. On both sides. They’re not all that bad. You’ll see. My dad wants the best for me. He just doesn’t always know what that is.”

  I gave her a wry grin. “And you think that’s me?”

  “I know that’s you.”

  That was the thing about Kenz. She loved her family, and she’d been their sweet, innocent girl, destined for great things, until she’d run too fast into the speed bump that was me.

  I shoved off the niggle of guilt.

  The fact I’d derailed the direction of her life.

  But I guess she’d done a little derailing herself.

  “Don’t be nervous,” she mouthed as she opened the door.

  She wanted all of us close, and I was willing to suffer through a night with her parents if it made her happy.

  It was her birthday, after all, and after this evening, I was stealing her away. I knew that fact couldn’t come easy for either of them.

  I adjusted the collar on my button-up shirt, shifted in the dress slacks I’d worn to put my best foot forward.

  “He’s here,” she called as she led me through the living room toward the kitchen. Their place was nice, everything in order and tidy and clean, so much different than the chaos that reigned at my parents’ place. Her dad was a public defender, so he wasn’t close to raking in the bucks, but I knew it kept them comfortable.

  What wasn’t comfortable was the silence that solidified the air in the kitchen when we walked in.

  Her mom was at the stove, frozen mid-turn, her father with one hip leaned up against the counter and his arms crossed over his chest.

  Going rigid and hard the second his sight caught on me.

  Sure.

  I’d spoken to them both before.

  Multiple times.

  But it’d never exactly been on friendly terms.

  It was her mother, Deborah, who finally broke. A stiff smile cracked her face. “Lyrik…welcome to our home.”

  Kenzie gave me an encouraging glance.

  See.

  “Thank you for having me,” I returned, gaze sliding to her father then back to her.

  In what seemed like disgust, he shook his head, before he seemed to come to a decision. He breathed out heavily as he extended his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Lyrik.”

  I was hoping someday that might actually be true. That he’d really think it nice to
see me. I mean, I’d dropped the band. The lifestyle. Got clean. All for them. Was hoping eventually he’d see that when it came to his daughter, all my intentions were good.

  I shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

  He eyed me warily, before he shook his head again, this time with a resigned laugh. “Come on, let’s eat.”

  It really wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, making conversation with Kenzie’s parents, seeing how much they cared, so much like mine. All any of them wanted was for our lives to be good. Of course, there would be some differences on what that looked like, but I was going to do my all to make sure Kenzie’s life was good. To make sure his life was good.

  Yeah. His. We’d seen him on an ultrasound two weeks ago. It was kind of mind-blowing, seeing just what was happening inside her, that he was real and whole. Heart beating. They said everything looked good. He was strong and growing fine. Since then, the shrouded fear and guilt Kenzie had seemed to wear the whole time had vanished.

  After we ate dinner, Deborah brought out a round cake and set it in the middle of the table. A ring of eighteen candles burned around it. Kenzie glanced at me before she closed her eyes for a beat, making her wish, then blew them out.

  Deborah’s cake was all kinds of delicious. I told her so and she grinned a genuine smile. Kenzie moved to her father sitting in his chair, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  He sighed, then smiled. “Anything for my girl.”

  “I love it,” she said as she spun in the living room furnished with the shabby couch my parents had given me, a scratched-up coffee table I’d picked up at a used store, and the TV from my bedroom back at the house I’d shared with the guys.

  “It’s small.” It almost came out a pout as I felt a sudden rush of self-consciousness.

  She smiled. “It’s ours.”

  She turned fully toward me. Sobering. Voice soft.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  I took a single step forward. Touched her face. “You sing my soul.”

  “I’m so grateful for everything we got today, but I have to admit, this is my favorite,” Kenzie whispered into the calm, clutching the mismatched patchwork teddy bear.

  A smile fluttered around her mouth, eyes flicking down to meet mine. “I can’t believe you made this.”

 

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