Chapter 30
CHAPTER
THIRTY
Darby
Everything was broken.
Everything ached.
Everything was gone, riding off into the sunset and leaving me the way I’d told him to.
I’d done more than told him. I’d commanded him, and like the soldier he was, Mercer followed my order.
I’d been lucky to get the words out before I choked, but I was strangling now. Gagging on regret so tangible my hands were at my throat, wanting to claw myself open and bleed out all the anger and hurt until I ran dry.
Beck found me like that. Rather, that was the moment he chose to approach because he’d been there all along.
He wasn’t nosy enough for me to dismiss his behavior as snooping. He was supervising. Managing the situation in case I couldn’t, and I was grateful for that. Thankful and more than a little surprised when the higher demon in his immaculate suit entered my atmosphere.
“We’ll fix it,” he said. “Before tomorrow.”
“You can’t possibly fix this in twenty-four hours.” I gestured toward the wreck of the club behind us. “We need an electrician. Cleaners. A haul-off service. New fixtures. New…” My voice faltered. “Everything.”
Beck nodded, standing square with his hands in his slacks pockets. “You might be surprised what the right amount of money can do.”
“Maybe,” I allowed. “But we’re not coming out ahead on this. We’ll be in the red for sure.”
His gaze softened, golden eyes half-lidded. “Some investments are slow to pay off.”
“And some never do,” I retorted bitterly.
Beck’s head tilted, causing the silver at his temples to gleam. “It’s awfully early to say. We’re new at this.”
A humorless laugh left me. “You are.”
“At running a nightclub, definitely,” he agreed then added, “And other things.”
We weren’t talking about the club anymore.
This was about love.
Trust.
Relationships.
I didn’t think myself very much like the grousing old demon, but in this Beck and I were alike.
When he showed up on the Dollhouse doorstep after tossing Zephyr out of his fancy Grecian suite, I had answered his call.
I had scolded and shamed him because he was foolish.
Because he deserved it. Because Zephyr was mine to protect and so was this place.
And then I invited a traitor into our midst. I let Mercer get close enough to hurt me in ways I swore I would never allow again.
My shoulders sagged. “I was wrong about him.”
Beck’s expression didn’t change. “Maybe.”
“No.” I shook my head. “He was working for the Rossettis. I know how you feel about them.”
A low sound left him. Not quite a word. Not quite a growl.
“That’s not a small thing,” I pushed, voice tightening again. “They’re our enemies.”
“You’re right,” Beck agreed. “They are, and I think it’s safe to assume they’d rather we never opened these doors again. But we’re going to.”
I glanced at him as he turned toward me and moved a step closer. His body blocked my view of the road Mercer had taken, the one I’d been staring down for too long.
His hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I caught a whiff of his cologne, warm smoke and citrus peel, smooth and soothing.
“Take a minute if you need it,” he said. “Or longer. We’ll be here.” A wry smile touched his mouth as he added, “I have a feeling we’ll be here all night.”
I huffed an unhappy laugh. “Tomorrow too.”
He nodded. “Tomorrow too. And then we’ll have the party you planned and send a message to Antonella and her brood that we aren’t so easily defeated.”
With a final squeeze to my shoulder, he left, disappearing into the damaged club.
When I was alone, I slumped.
Shrank.
It didn’t feel easy.
It felt like agony standing there steeped in heartache and flanked by the ruin of the only home I had.
I would have to confront it. Claim it. Eventually accept it as another scar layered over the surface of my battered heart.
It would make me stronger, shrewder, and a little bit sadder.
It would also bring me closer to understanding the tears my mother had shed every night after the clients were gone, when she thought I was asleep. And the way, come morning, she would smooth her hair and smile because pretty was for anyone who wanted it, but love didn’t belong to people like us.