All is Lost (All Series, Book 2)

by Marie Wathen

  “There you are,” she says. “Rhys said you used the ladies room downstairs.”

  Panting and flushed, she walks past me, sits on a barstool and slowly turns around, facing me with an aggravated expression. She pats the back of the chair next to her indicating I need to sit then she slaps that same hand on the bar top at Tracelyn.

  “Bring me a bottled-water Tracelyn. Where the hell is Tyle?” Ensley asks, craning her neck to look around the nearly empty lounge area.

  “He's in storage.” Tracelyn snaps brutally, causing me to look at her and catching the daggers she shoots at me. Great. She witnessed him dragging me in there, and apparently she thinks I willingly went–or worse. She thinks something happened.

  Scanning the area to avoid her glares, I notice that the crowd has thinned out downstairs too and instinctively I peek over the railing, searching out my favorite pair of green eyes.

  “Fine,” Ensley replies reaching for the water Tracelyn plops down dramatically on the bar. Ensley flashes a curious smile at me before taking a sip of her water. “So, what do you think about the club? It's great, isn't it?” She asks, smiling proudly as her eyes scan the VIP area. “Tox really did a great job with this place. Can you believe that it use to be mortuary?” My eyes grow wide with shock.

  Nodding enthusiastically, Ensley takes in a long deep breath and continues speaking without waiting for my response. “He's so incredible, like the best man I've ever dated. I’m so lucky to have him. We are so perfect for each other.” She smiles, but her eyes don’t reflect her proclaimed happiness. “Oh, Tox should be in by the end of the week so you'll get a chance to meet him.” She pauses and adds, “I'll warn you now he's so good looking, especially when he's dressed for the club. Oh mygod I've never seen a man more appealing.” She pierces me with a direct glare and a half-ass smirk. “So, hands off. Tox is mine.”

  Is she joking right now? I don’t know why she feels the need to warn me off her boyfriend. Unless. Scrutinizing her facial expression, I realize she's fearful and panic lies in her eyes, she's clearly unsure of their relationship.

  “Ensley, your concerns are uncalled-for, believe me. I just ended a horrible relationship with a guy too gorgeous for words too, and I'm in no condition to start anything new. Besides, I wouldn’t do that to a friend.” I say adamantly. “He is all yours.”

  Smiling confidently, Ensley’s features soften and I’m happy that my partial lie reassures her that Tox is safe. Unfortunately, reassuring her that I'm not going to be a threat to her relationship only encourages her to continue telling me about all the amazing and literally unbelievable sexually abilities of her god-like boyfriend. I cringe at the gory details. Thankfully, she gets interrupted when Rhys and Tyle join us at the bar.

  “So Beatrice,” Rhys starts. “You look like you fit in well tonight. I'm thinking that if your dream career in sports reporting doesn't work out, you will always have waitressing to fall back on.” Rhys chuckles out, before adding. “Perhaps, you can follow in your momma’s footsteps. Aunt Janessa was the best Hooters girl in Shelby County, for what, three years running?” He smirks. “You must be so proud.”

  Rolling my eyes dramatically at his antics, my rebuttal to his antagonizing gets interrupted by a loud bellow directly behind me.

  “Ensley!”

  Jumping at the booming deep voice, I shift around to see the band strolling toward us, lead by adversary–Miller Adams. Suddenly my skin begins to crawl, knowing that this could be the one person who may recognize me and expose our plan. She has known me my whole life. Pulling my hair around to cover my face, I pretend to absentmindedly play with a strand, catching Rhys attention. His eyebrows furrow and his gaze darts between me and the approaching group. Quirking an eyebrow up, he slips out of his chair and leans across the bar in front of me. Elbows placed on the bar top he turns, facing me, but his eyes never leave the group as he speaks.

  “Do you recognize someone?” Rhys whispers, glancing down at me.

  Slowly nodding my head I answer. “Yes, but not for the reason you're thinking. The girl could recognize me.” My voice is shaky with nervousness.

  Grinning suspiciously, Rhys turns his body completely facing me. Reaching down, he tugs my hand fidgeting with my wig, interlocking it with his, and pulling me close to him. He drapes an arm over my shoulder, leaning in so close that I grow uncomfortable quickly.

  He's going to kiss me. Ohgod, no.

  “Rhys, I gasp before laughing softly. His eyes remain focused, watching the group until they pass us. “You're my cousin.”

  “Yeah Doll, but they don't know that.” He whispers against my hair. “Besides, this pink on your cheeks was well worth it if we get a reputation for being kissing cousins.” His deep, soft laughter rumbles against the side of my head as he presses his cheek against mine.

  Seeing the group walk around me to the other end of the bar, I roughly jab Rhys in his ribs with my elbow. Choking on the sharp pain, he retreats away as he turns his head looking over his shoulder confirming they are oblivious to our dangerous shenanigans.

  “Let's go cuz,” he orders playfully, turning me in my chair and directing me toward the stairway.

  Jogging quickly down, Rhys wraps a thick hand around my bare arm and begins leading me toward the back of the club. Reaching a dark corner, I notice Raithe and Marcus huddled up. They separate quickly when they spot us approaching. Marcus stands abruptly, reaching a hand out to me and I notice his face is drawn tight with concern.

  “Is everything alright?” he asks, staring at me briefly before glaring at Rhys. “What happened?”

  “Yeah, everything is fine, but apparently tonight is a bust,” Rhys says, glancing down at me. “How about you take her home and we'll pick it up again tomorrow night?”

  “Sorry,” I offer all of them, seeing the disappointment on their faces.

  “Hey,” Marcus says, entwining our fingers together he leads us through the bar and outside. “You have nothing to be sorry about. After what those guys did, it will be a miracle if they show up here. Let's go home.”

  Once we reach his car, he asks, “Did something happen? You seem upset.” He opens the door allowing me inside but waits for my answer. Placing his hands on the roof of the Jeep he leans in against me, bringing his face close to mine.

  “I spotted someone upstairs that could possibly recognize me so Rhys brought me down to you.”

  “Okay,” smiling, he drops one hand to my cheek and stokes a thumb over my top lip. My eyes flutter shut at the sensation of his hot hand on my cool cheek. “That’s all?” I nod. Breathing deep his scent completely engulfs me and I'm spinning. Everything about this man continues to overwhelm my senses and I can't stop the smile as it spreads across my face. Hearing him groan, I glance up to see a darkening in his green eyes.

  “Mygod I love your smile.” Dipping his head down, he presses his lips tenderly to the corner of my mouth. Making sure he's being fair, he kisses the other side then strokes his nose over mine. “Let's get you home and out of this costume.” He growls softly. My breath hitches as my eyes flick open to see him smiling proudly.

  Dammit his teasing is driving me mad. Well, two can play that game, Mr. Walker.

  “Ohgod, yes,” I breathe, tugging the top of my corset up. “This thing has been squeezing the life out of my boobs all night. I can't wait to strip out of it so I can breathe again.” Sultry and seductive, the words roll off my lips as I watch the tension consume his features and his eyes widen in shock.

  Ha! Take that buck-o.

  Stiffly pulling away from the door frame, Marcus slowly closes the door and gingerly walks around the front of the vehicle. After several long moments he opens the driver’s door and climbs into his seat. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he turns his head facing me, but not looking at me. His jaw works back and forth, but his eyes tell me everything I need to know. He's completely turned on and fighting desperately against it.

  “Baby,” He pauses. “You can't say things li
ke that to me. All I dream about is doing just that. I'm like a man on a ledge, just barely hanging on with my fingertips. I want you so badly.” He moans out, more frustrated than I've ever seen him.

  Feeling guilty about playing with his emotions I offer a simple nod and a tiny smile, but he sees neither since he still hasn't looked at me. Backing out of the parking lot his face softens, but his body remains taunt and rigid. I won't lie I would love to run my fingers over the tense muscles in his arms, but I'm afraid if I touch him right this moment he'll run us into a ditch. Chewing on my bottom lip, I vow never to do that to him again....at least not until after we've made love.

  Riding toward Rhys compound in the darkness of the early morning hour, I glance out the window. Sadness envelopes me as we drive past the roaring ocean and the castle hanging off the mountain side. My insides begin twisting with a deep and severe need to take a trip up there and sort out everything that I have been feeling from all that I've lost.

  My whole life has been put on hold indefinitely. Before everything happened, I killed myself with a rigorous workout regimen and now I only exercise occasionally. I haven’t been to the castle since Morgan’s party, but as we pass it I feel it calling my name, like a long lost friend. Friends? I have real friends now and they are more important than my stupid old routine. Sending up a silent prayer for their safety, I close my eyes and lean my head against the headrest.

  Anna and Waverly, I'm sorry. Where ever you are, I promise that I will find you. Whoever has you, I guarantee that I will make them pay. With all that I am, I vow that I will get you back home.

  Chapter Twenty

  Morgan

  A hot, early morning sun slices through a lone dirt caked window, sitting high up near the ceiling, burning across my puffy eyes. Harsh scents invade my throat and I cough hoarsely, like I smoked a carton of cigarettes last night. Lifting my arm up, I shade my face and focus on my surroundings. Feeling pain in my entire back, I realize I'm lying on a hay covered barn floor and the putrid smell is coming from the massive horse staring at me in the stall from across the way. Controlling my movement so that I don't force the ache-memory to the forefront of my mind, I gingerly twist my head to the left and see a sexy blonde kitten curled under my arm.

  Waverly? Like I am struck by a lightning bolt, my heart skips a beat in the excitement of having her back. Unable to wait for her to awaken and desperately needing to kiss her, I lift her chin with a delicate finger.

  Sleepy fluttering lashes open slowly, revealing dark blue eyes and my heart compresses hard, feeling the stab of loss once again.

  She isn’t Waverly

  A husky, angry male voice resonates through the otherwise quiet barn, and I notice her body tenses while panic streaks across her face.

  She lifts her head off my arm. “Ohgod,” She breathes quietly, with a heavy southern drawl.

  Quickly jumping up she exposes her almost bare ass, covered by the tiniest lace material, as she scrambles up gathering her scattered clothing. She snatches them on at warp speeds before glancing down at me. Following her lead I stand, but a tad bit slower than her since I'm suffering with another massive ass hangover. Hearing the repeated booming yell, this time coming from inside the barn, I suppress the need to curse loudly.

  Shit, what have I done now?

  Flashes of last night’s escapades begin assaulting my mind.

  Candy drove us to a hillbilly hangout on the outskirts of this one red light, heart of the bible-belt, town where we immersed out minds, bodies and souls deeply into our surroundings. Quickly making our way through a full bottle of Jose Quervo we danced, shot pool and entered a casual game of darts. I held back my expert marksmanship on the poor girl. It would be a completely unfair advantage if I played up to par, since I am the ultimate dart enthusiast. Still, we swept the floor with Buddy Wayne and Jeffrey Bob's asses in all five rounds.

  As the night progressed, dozens of luscious cowgirls began strolling through the front doors, filling up the seats surrounding the stage and dance floor. According to Jeffrey Bob, the local hot band was playing tonight and the all male, five-member band gets all the girls panties wet with their first song. Due to the high volume of tequila, a roguish thought slipped easily into my brain and after the first song began–that was less than in tune–I couldn't contain my excitement. I found my way onto the stage, staring into the shocked faces of the band mates.

  Cheering from the highly intoxicated crowd encouraged my misbehaving and I commandeered the microphone from the guitarist’s stand, challenging the lead singer to a sing off. That dumbass didn't know that I come with a ten year musical background. Beating him senseless in his own backyard, I felt triumph as he pouted and stomped away after the crowd voted me the favorite with numerous catcalls and a couple dozen pairs of panties tossed at my feet.

  After a round of high-fives, fist pounds and one painful chest bump from a mammoth size man, the remaining band members invited me backstage for a celebratory drink. They confided that the singer was a stick-up-the-ass and had already left the bar to go cry on his momma’s shoulder. They were a fun bunch and bragged on my abilities until they convinced me to finish out the final set in his place. Blasting out some old school rock along with some requested current country hits we brought the place down just after two in the morning. Scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the girl I came with, I was approached by the hottest little honey of the night. She promised a night of bliss unlike anything I'd ever experienced and really, who am I kidding, I need a good fuck.

  Looking at her now, I realize I can't even remember fucking her at all. Everything else is crystal clear now that the haze of morning brain has receded, but I don't even remember kissing her after we pulled out of the taverns parking lot.

  “Morgan, that's my ex. Justice.” The long legged beauty says.

  Swallowing down my apprehension, I'm not sure if I want to hang around and meet a man named Justice that bellows like his insides are kindling to a blazing inferno. Proving my thoughts are pretty damn smart, the next yell from him rattles the window next to me. Turning to me, the babe quickly wraps her long, slender fingers around my wrist, dragging me toward the center of the barn. Putting on the brakes quickly, I jerk her body around violently and begin dramatically shaking my head a big, fat-ass negative on me meeting her highly pissed off ex boyfriend.

  “No, ma'am,” I say. “I believe that I will let you and him work this out on your own. No need in bringing me into your little lovers spat.” I inform her seriously. Narrowing her eyes at me, she folders her arms across her perky tits and a full on smile blasts across her flawless face.

  “Darlin' you're already smack-dab in the middle of it seeing as how you stole his thunder last night and took his woman to bed, well, to the barn.” She teases, snaking a hand up my arm and squeezing my bicep tightly.

  “What?”

  You've got to be fucking kidding me. From shit, to completely shitter in no time flat. Will I ever learn?

  After mentally chiding myself, I swat away her hand and lead the way toward the front of the barn where last night’s archenemy lays in wait for me.

  Oh boy this is going to be fun. My poor head is really going to love me after getting pounded into the dirt floor, on top of the current mind numbing ache.

  Seeing the douche menacingly storm up to the girl, I take a backseat to see just how broken up they really are.

  “Paulette,” He growls loudly at the babe. “What in the hell are you doing with this dick-wad?” He glances between us then grunts. “Sonuvabitch, you didn't actually sleep with his uppity ass right here in the barn in front of gawd and everybody? What the hell is wrong with everyone is this shit-stained town?” Justice continues barking like a rabid dog, causing my head throbbing to intensify even more.

  Honestly, I don't give one shit what he thinks about me, but if we're going to fight I'd rather go ahead and get that part out of the way so they can carry on with their domestic-hell and leave me the fuck alone.


  “Hey Jim Bobby,” I start. “If you've got a problem with me say it to my face, and stop yelling it in hers.” I spout, giving him the same amount of respect he gives his lady.

  “Mother fucker,” He bellows, pushing away from the girl. “My damn name ain't Jim Bobby. It is Justice. And me, and my Babydoll need to get a few things straight before I beat the living hell out of your sorry ass and I serve it up on a biscuit to ya momma.” He laughs alone.

  He seriously thinks that he's some sort of comedian, amused at his lame ass joke and telling me how he plans on beating my ass. I am from the south too, but I'll be damn if I understand the whole, weird reference to the biscuit and my mother.

  “What the fuck ever dude. Bring it.” I counter. Clenching my fists tightly, I wait for his first strike.

  Justice isn't as tall as my six feet, two inches, but he's clearly a muscle head, or he dresses like one at least, wearing a black tank-top with dark washed jeans and his ratty, old, cowboy boots. I imagine this is his standard workout wear so he can impress all the ladies down at the local gym.

  With catlike moves, Justice rushes toward me, but the toe of his boot catches on an object hidden under the hay. He falls, stumbling straight into my fist. With a little upward momentum, I nail him straight on the nose. Dropping like dead weight, he falls hard on his knees, before gravity drags the rest of him down. Stunned by my second knockout in a week, I glance up to Paulette seeing the panic flash deep in her darkening blue eyes.

  “Shit,” She glances between me and her unconscious man. “How'd you do that? Justice is gonna be so pissed when he wakes up. You better get.” She leans down, touching his face tenderly before looking back at me. “I'm not kidding. Go on, get out of here.”

  “Wait.” I pause. “Did we? I mean, I'm sorry. I was really wasted last night and can't remember shit, but if we had sex I want to apologize for making you feel used.”

  What the fuck am I apologizing for?