Chapter Nineteen #3
“No,” I mutter, voice low and gravelly. “But if she does, I swear I’m climbing in through that window.”
“She’ll tase you, man.”
A slow grin crosses my face as I brush a stray leaf from my suit jacket. “Worth it.”
He smirks, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I’m here to keep you from committing a felony on top of your other felony.”
“We’re already in a bush outside her house, Dax. The line’s not blurry. It’s completely gone.”
“We’re not here to stalk,” he says in a low voice. “We’re here to witness. Huge difference.”
I drag a hand down my face, scrubbing hard at the tension sitting behind my eyes.
My muscles are coiled so tight my knees are locked, thighs burning from holding this damn crouch, but I don’t move.
My jaw flexes, trying to bite back the sick mix of nerves and anticipation twisting through my gut.
I want to laugh at the absurdity, punch a wall in frustration, and maybe throw up, all at once.
Still, a breath escapes me, low and tight, and the corner of my mouth lifts, barely. It’s stupid, but Dax is here. As much as I want to throttle him half the time, the fact that he showed up settles something in me.
At least I’m not in this shitshow alone.
He leans in to peek again through the leaves, and I follow, my entire body tensing like I’m about to charge into battle.
Lyric’s sitting on the couch, holding the card in her lap, her fingers trembling.
She wipes at her eyes, sniffling quietly, lips moving as she reads the words I poured my soul into.
For a second, just one fleeting heartbeat, I let myself hope.
My chest tightens when she sits a little straighter, her brows drawing together.
But instead of clutching the card to her chest like in every rom-com fantasy I’ve never admitted to watching, she tears it, with the brutal ferocity of a lioness.
Shredding it like it insulted her mother.
Her expression is pure fire, her eyes sharp and seething as if she’s ready to burn me alive.
I don’t move.
I can’t.
I’m watching a slow-motion train derailment, and I’m chained to the tracks.
Her hands don’t stop until the card’s in multiple pieces. Then she stuffs them deep into the gift basket like they’re toxic.
My breath catches as she rises, grips the basket, and storms toward the front door.
Dax and I drop instinctively, pressing ourselves deeper into the brush like two grown-ass men pretending they’re invisible. The twigs crack beneath my shoes as I flatten myself against the dirt, heart hammering so hard I swear it’s echoing off the side of her house.
She charges outside, yanks open the trash, and throws the basket in as if she’s launching a grenade. Not satisfied, she jams it down with both hands, her body shaking with fury.
“Good riddance. Take that, Chase, you lying scumbag!” The lid slams, and the sound hits like a slap to the face as she opens it up, then slams it again. I raise my brow at her obvious anger as she slams it a third time, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Ahhh!”
Flinching, my stomach hollows while the rest of me burns from the inside out.
My ears ring with her words, her rage, and the sound of that lid closing like a coffin over everything I’d tried to say.
My breath is stuck somewhere between a gasp and a growl, and my fists clench so tight my bones ache.
Every instinct is telling me to run after her, to do something, but my legs won’t move.
Lyric throws her hands in the air in frustration, then spins and storms back inside, letting the door slam, and then, because apparently my ego wasn’t bruised enough, she pops the champagne and drinks straight from the bottle.
I squat by the side of her house, stunned. Physically and emotionally wrecked.
Beside me, Dax slaps a hand against my back, trying to offer some kind of comfort, but I barely register it. I turn toward him slowly, still crouched in the dirt, my head spinning and my pride bleeding out somewhere near her trash can.
My voice is hoarse when I find the strength to speak, “I should go talk to her.”
Dax raises a brow, like he can’t believe I still have fight left in me.
But I do.
I have more than enough fight.
Because when it comes to Lyric, even after that fiery display of ‘screw you,’ I’m not done.
Not even close.
Dax’s eyes widen. “No! You definitely should not. Can’t you see the state she’s in? Going to her now would only make her hate you more. She needs to cool off, Chase. Nope. We need a new plan.”
I take another peek through her window to see her drowning her sorrows, and it sends an ache deep down inside of me. I hate that I’m the reason she’s drinking alone on her sofa, wallowing in misery.
Dax grabs my arm and starts pulling. “C’mon, man, let’s go back to your place. Hash this shit out.”
I glance over at Lyric, taking her in one last time. There’s nothing more I can do tonight. I just have to let her drown right now, and that cuts me deep.
“Okay, we can go back to mine. But Dax, I need a drink.”
“Yes. Alcohol, takeout, and we have to make another plan. We need to up the ante. It’s time for phase two.”
I steady my shoulders, checking back inside her living room.
Yes.
Time for phase two.