Chapter Seven #3
We’ll see about that. “Maybe not under it, but I’ve been on top of it before.
” He pursed his lips, but the corner of his eye twitched.
“I’ve thought long and hard about this moment, about you and me.
” I carefully let the words pour from my lips like honey until he grew red-faced, bothered.
“Especially about that time we broke your bed.” And he missed.
Ouch, outer ring.
I scoffed. “Still struggling to hit your mark, I see.”
Laken had been right about one thing: I did hate losing.
I’d pull out all the plugs, go as low as I needed.
I’d scrape the bottom of hell for a way to beat him.
Sell my soul. Did it torture me to remember those times and how we were?
Absolutely. But I’d survived the last years; my pain tolerance could handle it.
Yanking his darts out, his shoulders were tense. “You,” he growled, one dart down. “Are a piece.” Two darts down. “Of work.” Three darts down as he faced me.
“This was your idea.” I shrugged, feeling nauseous as he treaded closer. Being around him made me ill—he was a plague.
The crowd in Rabbit’s Foot grew rowdier by the minute. A party unraveled in the corner; every three seconds mugs clashed with cheers. Boots stomped, hands clapped, and a group of them had a deep choir started as they sang. One thing led to another, and half the tavern joined in.
“Yes, and I’m beginning to regret it.” He stopped in front of me, arms crossed. There were smudges of dirt and paint on his shirt. He apparently had a day, too. That would explain the flatness of his usually thick hair.
“You knew how this would go, but if it’s too much, you can always surrender.” Please surrender.
A smile split his lips. “Like hell.”
Fine. I straightened, lifting my chin high and narrowing my eyes. “Then I suggest getting your shit together if this is to be a competition.”
“You better watch it, McCarthen. I’m going to put a dart in your ass.”
I felt sure he’d like to. Turn after turn, our antics continued.
Laken sang in my ear and initiated a round of cheers as I threw.
I waved an arm in front of his face until he got aggravated enough to miss.
He danced by the board, and I talked the drunk troubadour into strumming his chalette, a charmed banjo, near us.
The angrier I became, the better my aim. The more distracted Laken was, the worse his aim got. And as expected, as I’d prepped, trained, and prepared for—I won.
Sitting back in a chair with my feet propped up on the table, I soaked it in. Laken’s loss, his sore pouting. He slumped down across from me, resting on his elbows.
“What is it then, what’s your question?”
Ah. If I were honest, I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask Laken Augustus. But I wasn’t ready to hear the answers for most of them. For tonight, I only had one. The one question that had landed me in a massive pile of stress and tears.
“Did you know the sanctuary was twelve thousand macs in debt?” And for what Gods-forsaken reason wasn’t I made aware?
Laken straightened in a heartbeat. Brows rising high, his jaw dropped. “Twelve thousand?”
I cut my eyes to him. “Did. You. Know?”
“Of course not, Reece, Gods above…” His voice trailed into nothing. “When did you find out?”
I pulled out an imaginary pocket watch. “About two hours ago when I had a visit from Collin Redsworth.”
“Pointy hat?”
“Pointy hat.”
“Shit.” Laken blew out a breath. “To answer your question, no, I wasn’t aware. We can figure out some ways to make—”
“We?” I tossed myself forward, meeting his gutted expression. Rolling my eyes as far as they could go, I gave a soft sigh. “Gods, Laken. There hasn’t been a we for a long time now.” I should’ve leapt across the table. My chest stung. “Tell me, Laken. How long have you known he was leaving?”
My question was met with silence.
The left side of his jaw jerked. “You were only allowed one question, remember?”
Unbelievable—but believable for him. “You’re an ass.”
Laken looked at the ground. He looked at the fucking ground. “What does it matter if I knew?”
I gasped, a bit of a scoff, at his insincerity. Gritting my teeth, my breath felt hot like a dragon. “If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t be getting defensive.”
Laken didn’t move. He didn’t speak. I tried to search those dark, dangerous eyes for something. I tried to watch for a nervous quiver, a bite of his lip, an avoidance of eye contact, but nothing came. And that somehow hurt worse.
“You could’ve written. You could’ve come and told me. You could’ve done something—”
He interrupted me. “He didn’t want you to know, Reece.”
He didn’t want me to know.
They never wanted me to know.
No longer able to read him, I didn’t know what to think. To feel. It was just me, alone, in the moment. The music blew around us, yet I didn’t hear it. I knew I needed a moment to collect myself. I knew I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but because I’m me, I did anyway.
“I deserved to know, Laken. He could be gone for months, years,” I said. “I deserved to know he was leaving. I deserved a warning. I deserved something before my whole life changed!” My voice grew gritty, and I forgot there were people around us.
Laken scoffed. From under his brows, he met my stare. “This isn’t about your father, is it?”
Time stopped. Our eyes met in a deadly stare, and I felt like my skin had been rubbed raw. His gaze alone could reopen my healed wounds once again, peeling away at each layer of skin I’d made thick. I should’ve hated him for it.
I think I might’ve.
“You could’ve written me this time. You could’ve written me back then.” My heart raced, running rapid with emotions I couldn’t explain. Emotions I didn’t want to explain, and hell, didn’t want to feel. “You could’ve tried. You could’ve—”
“I did.”
His tone, sharp and quick, ended any train of thought I’d had. His words stabbed me in the gut like the beak of a hellblazer—piercing and burning. I never received letters,
I never heard from him.
“I couldn’t make myself send them,” he explained. “But I wrote you.” His eyes watered, furious and bitter. “Every time I thought of you. Every time it rained. And every time I wished things were different.” He paused, out of breath.
Fine.
I stood as a roll of thunder shook the entire pub.
I thanked the Gods above and below for giving me a reason to go home.
Heavy rain poured onto the roof; flashes of lightning pulled my attention in different directions as the drunken crowd swarmed to the door.
Leaving Laken behind me, I joined them, squeezing through and stopping under what little cover the awning offered.
He followed behind. Gods damn it—we’re neighbors. My eyes fluttered to the back of my head. This could not be worse, walking home together in the rain. I’d read enough romance novels to know better.
“I can cover us with my coat.” His voice traveled down my spine. “You don’t have to get soaked, you know.”
“I don’t mind it. Just a drizzle,” I yelled through the pouring rain.
Thunder cracked. Lightning shocked, and the rain—to my luck—fully unleashed itself upon the world. My hair slicked down my skin. My shirt clung to me well enough to show all of my curves and crevices. I waited for him to catch up, and once he did, I hesitantly squeezed under the coat he held above.
“Just a drizzle, huh?” Laken mocked, but I’m sure he felt plenty satisfied with how this had turned out.
I growled. “I swear to the Gods, I’ll kick you in the—”
And as if the world decided today would not be for me, my soaked, old leather boot ripped at the tip and my entire foot slipped from the hole.
I would’ve fallen if Laken hadn’t caught me—by dropping the coat and letting all the accumulated water drown us.
My shoes were soaked. My skirt grew heavy with water. And my hair would be a lion’s mane by morning. But, facing Laken after what might have been my worst day, and seeing him smile at me as if he’d been entirely consumed… I fumed.
Laken shook his head. “You have to make everything more difficult.” He swept me off my feet, pressing me into his hard chest. I hated his arms under me. I hated being so close.
We came across my door, and I shuffled back into it. Laken followed. We huddled under the awning in the darkness of the night.
I’d been so worried about how my shirt clung to me, I hadn’t thought about his tunic clinging to him, until now.
Each breath, I watched his chest rise and fall.
My back hit the door, and the air in my lungs hitched as my eyes dragged up every inch of his features.
His full lips. His hand leaning on the doorframe, pinning me under.
His darkened, wet hair contrasting with those alluring blue eyes, flickering from mine to my lips.
Those eyes…
Oh my Gods. I know those eyes.
I pushed my hands to his chest. “Nope, absolutely not.” I gently shoved him back, biting my tongue to not feel his chest under my hands.
“What?” A troublesome grin lit his face.
“Don’t what me. You know exactly what you’re doing!” And it’s working too well. He was playing his games, showing his cards, doing what he did best.
“What am I doing, Reece?”
I crossed my arms. “You’re giving me fuck-me eyes.”
Laken dropped his mouth open, but I knew better. “Fuck-me eyes? What are fuck-me eyes?”
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know.” I stepped closer. “It’s that little look you give when you want me, the way your eyes narrow and stare at my lips all fixed and slow-like. I know what you’re doing.”
He stared down at me. “Do you really?” He gave every girl that look, I told myself. He’s tricking you. You aren’t special to him. I never was.
“Go home, Laken Augustus. I don’t want you here,” I nearly whispered, desperately trying to find the doorknob behind me.
Laken, as if he’d been in a trance, stepped back, inches away from the rain once again.
His chest fell so deep I worried it wouldn’t rise again; his lips parted, struggling to inhale.
Something I couldn’t name flashed in his eyes, but like the lightning behind him, it was gone before I could decipher what it meant.
“As you wish,” he yelled through the rain before sprinting off.
“See you at the spring festival tomorrow.”
What? Shit.
He’s right—Honey Brooke’s spring festival would be tomorrow. Shit.
Honey Brooke’s spring festival was equivalent to a religious holiday to these people.
There would be food, music, dancing, magic benders, and everything else one could imagine for an event.
The whole town came, and the whole town saw who didn’t.
It used to be a favorite of mine, but no sparks ignited within me at the thought of it.
But… it could be an opportunity to make some kind of money.
If I brought some of our products, I could sell them. I’d have to check for elixirs.
I had to start finding some way to pay back what I owed.
Life had a funny way of turning the best things into the worst, tormenting me by dangling things I once loved right in my face, never to be loved the same again.
Laken ran off, turning left toward his new home, and as he disappeared, I cursed myself for letting him so close. Dangerously close.