Jax grabs them. “Sure.” Turning, she gives me a sidelong glance. “You can’t drive either, can you?”
“Nope. But I’m walking distance.” One of the perks of living right in town. My gaze lands on Lucy, and my mind flashes back to the night before when I’d had her in the shower and the agonizing way she’d trailed kisses down—
“All right,” Jax says. “Come on, Luce. I’ll give you a ride, too.”
The three of them head for the door with Mike swaying between them. I guess he’d had more than a few. An invisible force sends me trailing after them. The last thing I want to do is go home to an empty house, but if I stay in the bar, I know I’m going to lose my shit on Kinx.
Jax reaches for the door, but before she can grab the handle, it bursts open on a gust of wind. “Holy shit,” she says and shoves it closed. “Is there a high-wind advisory in effect?”
The bouncer nods. “Probably why there aren’t very many people out tonight.”
“Crap,” she says and looks at Lucy. “Do you want to stay over? The ride to your house might be a little hairy.”
Before Lucy can answer, I step in front of all of them, my shoulders tense. “No. I have more space. Everyone can come back to my house. You can stay there.”
Jax gives me an odd look and then shrugs. “Okay.”
“Dude,” Mike says, rubbing his eyes. “All I want is my own bed.”
I scowl at him. “Forget it. Jax isn’t going to drive in this just because you’re being a pussy.”
Mike mumbles, “Whatever, man. As long as you have food. I’m starved.”
Lucy opens her mouth, closes it, and after a pointed look from Jax, she nods.
“Good.” I pull the door open, and the four of us huddle under the protection of the balcony. Sheets of water pour from the skies. Dammit. Just getting the block and a half to my house is going to be bad enough. “Jax? Will you be able to drive my truck? Visibility looks nonexistent.”
“Yeah,” she says in that soft voice I hate. It’s the one full of pity. The one that says she knows why I’m being so adamant about this.
“All right, then. Mike, where’d you park? Do we need to move your car?” There are meters, and if he’s parked on the street, he’ll get a ticket in the morning.
“It’s at the shop,” he slurs.
“Great,” Jax says and rolls her eyes. “He’s totally sloshed.”
“What? I’m not drivin’.” Mike squares his shoulders and takes off into the night.
“Oh, man.” Jax presses her lips together in annoyance. “Is he heading to your house?”
“I hope so,” I say and hand her my keys. “You and Lucy take my truck. We’ll meet you there.”
She wraps her arms around herself and shivers. “You sure?”
“Yeah. He’s a mess. I can’t let him wander around by himself.” Those last shots must’ve hit him hard.
“Okay, see you in a few.” She waves me off with a worried expression.
I turn my back and ignore her. It’s not the rain she’s concerned about. Not with us walking, though it’s fucking cold and I want to kill Mike. No, she’s concerned about my state of mind. I can’t say I blame her. Storms usually set me off. Tonight I’m a little calmer, but I’m not at all sure I want to analyze why.
Pulling the collar up on my jacket, I jog out into the punishing rain and am instantly drenched. “Fucking Mike,” I mutter as my teeth chatter. At least some of the buildings have second-story balconies for a short reprieve. But that doesn’t last long, and soon enough I’m back in the storm, blinded by the rain. He couldn’t have gone far. Car lights flash over the street as a vehicle moves slowly in my direction. I recognize the familiar hum of my truck and wave Jax on, but I doubt she can even see me. The truck is inching along the road, spraying water from the wheels.
My gut seizes, and all the shadows morph into another time, on another road where the rain batters the redwoods.
***
Elsa’s shoulders are tense and her knuckles have gone white from gripping the steering wheel.
“You look like my ninety-year-old grandmother,” I say, laughing.
She’s pressed forward, peering out the window, going all of twenty miles an hour. “Shut up, Seth,” she snaps. “It’s your fault we’re on this damn road.”
I just grin, thinking of all the ways I’m going to coax her out of her bad mood when we get home.
“Why did you have to go out tonight? God. I told you it was going to storm.” She slows as she heads into one of the hairpin turns of Highway 128.
I don’t say anything, hoping she’ll let it go. No such luck.
“This is like the third night this week. It’s bad enough that you go out, but you guys don’t even think to set a designated driver. And then I have to pick your ass up.”
“Babe.” I lean my head against the cool door, trying to stop a minor bout of nausea. I’d definitely had one beer too many. “I already told you, I had to go. It was Marty’s going-away party.”
“Seth!” she yells, her dark eyes flashing with anger. “There were strippers there. And you’re drunk. Again. You don’t even like Marty.”
“He’s Jax’s brother. I had to go.” But inside, I’m wondering why. She’s right. I don’t like him. He’s a dick. Jax hadn’t even been there. My other friends were, though. And since I work from home, I rarely see them. I’d gone for them, not Marty.
“Don’t lie.” Her tone is low and full of ice now. “This was my night to stay in with the girls. Not drive all the way down to Boonville to pick your ass up. And in this weather, too.”
“Calm down, will you?” The rain starts to pick up the closer we get to Highway 1. “You can rip my head off when we get home.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down.” Elsa speeds up, knowing the road is about to straighten out, and then glares at me. “I’m tired of this shit. I have a life too.”
“Oh come on. Give me a break will you? I don’t give you a hard time when you go out.”
“Ha! Really? Wasn’t it just last week you were having a fit because I went up to Fort Bragg for a spa day with the girls?”
Now I’m pissed. “Not this again. Can you drop it already?”
“No, I won’t drop it,” she says, mimicking my inflection, and then huffs. “It’s okay for you to get drunk with the guys, but it’s not okay for me to get a manicure with my girlfriends?”
“It’s not the manicure. It’s the facial, the massage, and the two hundred dollars’ worth of shit you buy when you do that.”
“It’s my goddamned money!” She gets really quiet, then says, “At least I’m not spending it on strippers.”
I close my eyes, exasperated, and clutch my pounding head. “How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t spend money on the strippers? They weren’t my idea.”
“But you knew they would be there and you decided to go anyway.” All the accusation is gone, replaced by hurt.
Shit, now I feel like a total ass. She wasn’t mad I was out with the guys. She was mad because of the entertainment. “Babe, I—watch out!”
Elsa gasps and swerves to miss the pickup that’s coming head-on into our lane, but she’s too late. The truck clips her small Honda on the driver’s side and then everything is just a memory of her screams combined with metal crunching and then the horrific sensation of the car hydroplaning. We hit the guardrail, and metal scrapes against metal until it gives way and the car freefalls into the ravine.
I don’t remember anything after that except the blood. And guilt.
***
“Seth?” a husky female voice is calling my name.
I blink. My body is ice-cold. “It’s too late,” I say, still seeing E’s bloody body in my mind.
“Are you all right?” Small hands wrap around my arm.
I wipe the wetness,
a mix of rain and salt, from my eyes. Lucy.
She tucks herself against my side and wraps her arm around me.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” I say as I let her tug me along.
“Neither should you.”
Her teeth are chattering by the time we burst into the kitchen of my house. The place is quiet except for the creak of footsteps overhead. Someone’s upstairs. I stand there, still dazed by the flashback, seeing nothing.
Then Lucy steps in front of me and stares up at me with those brilliant blue eyes. She’s drenched, her hair flattened to her head, but she doesn’t seem to care at all. My world spins with the images of E, the blood, and the terror I never seem to be able to let go of. But when Lucy places a light hand on my cheek, everything fades and all I see is her. After a moment, she silently takes my hand again and leads me up the stairs.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucy
The gusts of wind drive against Seth’s truck, and even going ten miles an hour, the vehicle seems unstable at best. I have no idea how Jax can see anything out the windshield. The rain is coming down too hard for the windshield wipers to keep up. But it’s only a few blocks, and after narrowly missing a black sports car, she comes to a stop in front of Seth’s house.
We sit in the truck with the heater running, waiting for Seth and Mike to show up.
“Jax?” I ask.
“Hmm?” She peers out the windshield.
“Why did Seth lie about this being his sister’s house?”
She freezes and then turns, grimacing.
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to answer. When she doesn’t, I say, “Well? What’s that about? Is he afraid his one-nighters will turn into stalkers?” I’m curious. If that’s the case, why had he brought me here? Because I’m Jax’s friend?
“That could be part of it. He definitely doesn’t like attachments, but it’s not the main reason.” Her expression turns sad. “And really, that’s his story to tell. Not mine.”
“It has to do with the accident, doesn’t it?” Deep in my gut, I just know he lived here with his soul mate. The place has too many feminine touches to be a twenty-three-year-old’s bachelor pad.
“Something like that.”
We’re quiet as the rain batters the truck, each lost in our own thoughts. It’s hard enough being away from Cadan, but that’s my choice. I can’t imagine how I’d survive if I lost him completely. For better or worse, he has a part of my soul. For Seth to lose his soul mate so young—I can’t even imagine the devastation.
“Hey,” Jax says and rubs on the fogging window. “Is that Mike?”
Before I can answer, she’s out of the car, running across the street toward Mike, who appears to be trying to force his way into the wrong house. Where is Seth? He’d been right behind Mike.
I jump out of the truck and scan the area. Nothing. Within seconds, I’m soaked through. Damn. Jax and Mike stumble toward me with Mike’s arm draped over her shoulders. “Where’s Seth?”
Mike doesn’t even acknowledge I’ve spoken.
Jax hands me Seth’s keys. “Can you find the house key and unlock the door?”
I fumble with the key ring, trying to get my frozen fingers to work. After three tries, I finally find the correct one and hold the door open for them. I follow and stand dripping just inside the door as Jax pulls Mike to the breakfast table. He sits and grins at her stupidly. “Hey, Jax?”
“Yeah?”
“Wanna help me out of these clothes?”
She laughs and heads out of the room. A few seconds later, she comes back with a stack of towels and throws one at his head. He catches it but makes no move to actually dry off. After tossing me one, she wraps hers around her dripping hair and then shakes her head at Mike. He’s eyeing the way her shirt is clinging to her body.
“Dude, stop,” she says and rolls her eyes.
As she walks by, he grabs her hand and yanks her toward him. “Thanks for saving me from the rain.”
She slides into his lap playfully and banters with him about getting out of their wet clothes.
“Hey,” I call. They both turn and glance at me as if they’d forgotten I was here. “Where’s Seth?”
Mike shrugs and hugs Jax closer to him. She frowns but makes no move to remove herself from his lap.
“It shouldn’t take this long for him to get here,” I say and open the door.
“Where are you going?” Jax asks as I head out.
The wind whistles with the roar of the storm and I call out, “To find Seth.” The door slams behind me and cuts off Jax’s response.
Jesus, it’s cold and utterly horrible out. Ice-cold rain drives into me sideways as I trudge down the street, searching for Seth. It’s too dark to see much of anything. Where is he? There’s no use calling out; he wouldn’t be able to hear me over the storm. I trace the steps toward the bar but don’t see him anywhere.
Shit!
What happened to him? My heart speeds up as I get closer and closer to the bar. Panicked now, I run across the street, splashing though a puddle that turns my feet to ice. He has to be here somewhere. Just has to be. Nothing is open, and the streets are deserted. But I press on. I can’t go back without him. I won’t. After circling the block twice, I finally spot him. He’s hunched over, leaning against a door as if he’s having trouble breathing.
“Seth!” I continue to call his name as I run to his side. Then he straightens and looks at me with haunted eyes, ones full of anguish.
My heart squeezes and feels like it’s breaking in two for whatever it is he’s seeing. “Seth,” I say again and wrap my hands around his forearm. “Are you all right?”
He mumbles something about it being too late. He’s completely lost in another time, and I wonder if he’s even seeing me at all. But he lets me guide him toward his house, and that’s good enough for now.
By the time we step inside, I’m shivering uncontrollably, frozen to the bone. Seth has gooseflesh covering his arms, but I’m pretty certain he doesn’t even realize it. He stands in his kitchen glancing around, but doesn’t seem to focus on anything.
The pain lining his face touches that raw part of me that’s been aching for Dad ever since he passed six months ago. Seth is clearly still grieving and it breaks my heart. Slowly, I step up to him and cup his cheek.
Recognition replaces the agony in his deep-green gaze. And all I want to do is take care of him. To do my best to keep that haunted look from his eyes.
I don’t know where Jax and Mike have gone, but it makes little difference. My only concern is Seth. I lace my hand in his again and gently lead him upstairs. The room we’d stayed in the night before has a light shining under the door, so I bypass it for the next room. As soon as we walk in, I know this is Seth’s room. Seth’s and his mate’s. I freeze and the breath leaves me as my lungs constrict. No wonder he never brings anyone here. The walls are white, but there’s color everywhere else. The poppy pillows, the floral nightstands, the bright yellow lamps. I’d bet my last dollar his mate decorated this room.
“This way,” Seth says and leads me to the master bathroom. Relief washes through me. White tile everywhere. No traces of the ghost that still haunts him.
Seth stops in the middle of the room and stares down at me. I can’t quite read his expression. He’s intense, but not with desire. Just emotion.
“You’re cold,” he says.
“So are you.” I am cold, but I’m far more worried about what’s going on with him than my own comfort.
“Shower.” He reaches over and turns the taps on, letting the water heat up. But he doesn’t move. He just keeps standing there watching me. The depth of sadness radiating off him caresses me, sinks into me, and makes me want to take care of him.
With my fingers trembling, I reach up and work my way through the buttons on his shirt. My fingers start
to regain some of their feeling as I fumble through the task.
I want to strip my own clothes off and jump in the shower, letting the heat drive away the effects of the storm. But taking care of Seth is more important. I want to see that light in his eyes again. Hear the laughter in his voice. Somehow find a way to show him he can love again. Once the buttons are undone, I push his shirt over his shoulders and then tug the white tee over his head.
To my surprise, he places his hands on my hips and runs them up along my sides, taking my sweater with his motion. A second later, I’m topless, standing only in my bra and black pants.
There’s nothing romantic or erotic about either of us undressing the other, just a tender understanding of one human being needing another. We finish stripping each other and then Seth tugs me into the blissful, hot stream.
I stand in front of him, my back to his chest with his arms wrapped around me. We stay there until the cold is driven from our bodies, if not our hearts. We don’t speak. Not even when Seth gently washes my body with shower gel, and then I do the same for him.
Once clean, he stares at me, his eyes soft with tenderness and vulnerability. I stare back, lost in the moment until the water turns tepid. Releasing me, he turns the knobs to off. I hadn’t been self-conscious before, but I am now. I don’t know why, but the fact that we’d taken care of each other seemed almost more intimate than what we’d shared the night before. Almost. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I turn away from Seth, hoping he’ll disappear into the other room long enough for me to find a towel.
“Here,” he says and gently wraps a bath sheet around me.
I clutch the ends together and send him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
The sweet look on his face melts away all my apprehension, and the tension eases from my shoulders. “You’re welcome,” he says softly. “I’ll find you a robe.”
Then he’s gone, and all I can think about is the way he’d been watching me. Cadan has never looked at me that way, as if I were someone to be cherished. The closest he’s ever come is while we’re singing and have that magical connection. But I’m certain it has everything to do with the way the music makes him feel, not the way I make him feel.
Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians Page 15
