Chapter 4
Dean
When the sun goes down, Crystal Falls is dead silent…
making a cemetery seem lively. I’m stretched out on my bed at the inn, staring at the old wooden beams running across the ceiling, rolling a half-empty bottle of Jack between my palms, and trying to ignore the uneasy feeling under my skin.
My phone buzzes once, then goes still. Probably some spam text, not anyone I want to hear from.
Nothing good ever comes for me after dark, anyway.
Why the hell did I agree to meet Aubrey tonight?
From day one, my top priority should have been to get out of this town.
Drop off the map, keep moving. Hell, if I’m being honest with myself, I shouldn’t have even set foot back in Crystal Falls in the first place.
There are men out there who would love to see me dead, and it’s only a matter of time before my past catches up.
That’s how it goes… You keep running, and if you’re lucky, you outrun the worst of it. But if you’re me, luck doesn’t come knocking very often. Which is why my number one rule, everywhere I go: never visit the same town twice.
So, tell me why, after three months, my ass is back here? Why has it been four days, and I haven’t moved?
Oh yeah. Aubrey.
The way she laughs, the way she tries to act like she’s not looking at me when we both know she is. I feel that magnetic pull toward her every time she’s near.
I take a long swallow of Jack, the burn numbing.
I stare at my reflection in the streaked window.
Same old bastard looking back…jaw hard, eyes hollow, tattoos crawling up my arms like reminders of every mistake I’ve ever made.
Most days, I’m a ghost in my own skin. But tonight, I’m supposed to meet her at Maggie’s Taproom for karaoke night as if I belong in a place with lights, music, and laughter.
I don’t even like large crowds, much less karaoke.
I groan, rubbing a hand down my face. Fuck my life.
She has no idea what kind of darkness she’s invited in.
I should have said no. For her sake, I should be walking away. But I can’t.
I haul myself up, drag fingers through my hair, pull on my leather jacket…the armor I never take off unless I’m naked or dead. I check the loaded piece in my duffel, an old habit. Not that I expect trouble tonight. But you never stop expecting it.
The walk to Maggie’s is short. The night air is crisp, sharp with the scent of pine and wood smoke.
The taproom is lit up like a Christmas tree, and a few bikes.
Letting myself do a quick sweep to make sure none of them look familiar.
Relieved when I don’t recognize any of them.
It’s mostly pickup trucks that crowd the parking lot.
I shove the door open and step inside, letting the noise wash over me…cheers, laughter, the off-key wailing of someone murdering Bon Jovi on the mic.
Aubrey is at the bar, back straight, fingers twisting in a napkin like she’s trying to wring out her nerves. She’s got on jeans, cowboy boots, and a top that shows just enough skin to make me want to take a bite. Her hair’s down, soft around her shoulders, and she looks nervous as hell.
I let my gaze slowly drag over her. She finally spots me, and for a second her expression falls. Like she didn’t really believe I would show up. Hell, neither did I.
I slip onto the stool beside her. “You really gonna sing, or was that just bait to get me here?”
She laughs out loud. “Give me a couple shots, and I might.”
I signal the bartender, a big guy with a handlebar mustache, sizing me up like he’s familiar with my type. I slide him a twenty. “Two whiskeys, neat.”
Aubrey snorts. “Trying to get me drunk already?”
“Just trying to give you an excuse for when you make a fool of yourself up there,” I say, lips twitching.
She elbows me. “Ha. Ha. You’re so hilarious. Maybe you should go first, tough guy.”
“Not a chance.” I take a sip, letting it burn. “The only way you’re getting me up there is if this place catches fire.”
She makes a face, then glances around. “You know, you don’t have to look like you’re waiting to get jumped every second. You can relax. Nobody here is going to bite you.”
I catch her gaze. “Biting is not what I worry about. Most folks just stab you in the back.” I say, dead serious.
She sobers, searching my face. “Is it really that bad where you’re from?”
“You ever seen a wolf play nice with sheep?” I respond. “I know what can happen if you let your guard down.”
Her lips part like she’s getting ready to say something, but she stops herself. Instead, she scoots closer, her knee brushing mine.
“Well, this is Crystal Falls. People here just get drunk and sing badly. Sometimes there’s a bar fight, but it’s over darts or something stupid.”
I snort. “Darts, huh? Remind me to keep my distance from the old folks’ league.”
She laughs, the sound warm. “You want to play it safe, you picked the wrong place, Dean. Maggie’s has a tendency to get a little rowdy.”
I give her a look. “You like rowdy, Aubrey?”
She shrugs, biting her lip. “Sometimes. Makes me feel alive.”
I lean in, voice rough. “Alive is overrated. Sometimes it’s just another word for stupid.”
She looks at me, long and hard. “If I wanted safe, I wouldn’t have invited you here.”
I smirk, but something is tugging at my chest. I want to warn her off. Tell her she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. But I want her too badly to lie.
Someone on stage butchers a country song. Aubrey groans. “God, I might actually sound better than that.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” I tap her glass with mine. “Go show them how it’s done.”
She makes a face. “You’re a menace. You know that, right?”
“I’ve been called worse,” I say, and she laughs again. She drains her whiskey, slides off the stool, and saunters that fine little ass of hers up to the stage. I watch every step, hungry.
She picks an old Dolly Parton song. Her voice shakes at first, but then she finds her groove. I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s so pure, real, and fucking radiant. Everyone claps when she’s done, but nobody’s looking at her the way I am. Nobody wants her the way I do.
She comes back, cheeks flushed, eyes shining. I hand her a beer. “Not bad, trouble.”
She grins. “Seriously? You liked it?”
I nod, real slow. “I did. Might even have to change my plans about sitting this one out tonight.”
“Oh, so now you’re gonna sing?” she teases, poking my arm.
“Don’t push your luck.”
She laughs, leaning in closer now. Her thigh touches mine. My hand drifts over, fingers brushing the top of her knee. She doesn’t move away. If anything, she slides into me more, and I can feel the heat radiating between us.
A group of assholes starts doing shots at the end of the bar, getting louder by the second. Some dipshit keeps glancing our way, like he wants to start something. I meet his gaze, and he looks away first. Smart guy. Some men know the look of someone who’s not afraid to bleed.
Aubrey notices. “Why are you always on edge?”
I shrug. “Old habits.”
Her smile softens. “Dean, you don’t have to protect me from every drunk guy in here.”
“I know. But I will,” I say, voice rougher than I mean for it to sound.
She reaches out, her hand grazing mine. “Why?”
That’s a loaded question. I could lie, but I’m tired of lying to her. “Because you make me forget about all the ugly shit for a minute. Because I want to.”
She goes quiet, searching my face again. “Why did you just up and leave that night?” she asks.
I stare at our hands touching. “Because I’m not a good person, Aubrey. I came here to disappear, not to fuck up your life too.”
She squeezes my fingers. “What if I don’t care about all that? Maybe I want you to fuck up my life a little.”
My jaw ticks. She has no idea what she’s asking for. Darkness isn’t just a mood…it’s a habit, a hunger. But her hand fits so perfectly in mine…so warm, and for a second, I want to believe this could be something else.
“Come on, tough guy,” she says, trying to pull me up. “Dance with me.”
I grunt. “I don’t dance.”
She won’t take no for an answer, and that’s how I end up on the sticky floor, her arms around my neck, mine gripping her waist. The music is slow, a sad song about heartbreak and highways. Her body fits perfectly against mine, and I rest my chin on the top of her head, breathing her in.
“See?” Aubrey whispers. “This isn’t so hard.”
I squeeze her hips, pulling her closer. “Depends on who you’re dancing with.”
She laughs, soft and sweet, and for a minute, I let myself have this moment. Her hands, her warmth, the way her body moves with mine. I want to kiss her, want to take her home, want to rip that fucking top off and see if she tastes as good as I remember.
She tilts her head up and catches my mouth with hers. Fuck it…I give in. Her lips are soft, and she tastes like whiskey. I’m gone. I pull her flush against me, deepening the kiss. I don’t care who’s watching, don’t care what happens next.
When we finally break apart, she’s breathless, pupils dilated. “So, are you sticking around this time?”
I hesitate, the darkness of my world pressing in on me. I want to promise her everything. But promises are poison for a guy like me.
“For tonight,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I’m yours for tonight.” She smiles back at me like that’s enough.
Maybe for now, it is.
The rest of the night is a blur…more drinks, more laughter, stolen glances that get bolder each time.
We slip out back, behind the bar, for air, but the second the door closes, she’s on me again, mouth hungry, hands greedy.
I pin her to the wall, my mouth on her neck, and she moans… desperate and real.
I want her so fucking bad it hurts. But I have to slow down. I grip her waist, breathing hard. “Let’s get out of here,” I rasp.
She nods, already pulling me toward the parking lot.
The night air is cool; the sky full of stars. For a minute, I let myself hope.
Maybe I can have this. Maybe I can have her.
But the darkness never really leaves. And I know sooner or later, I’ll have to pay for every good thing I touch. But for tonight, I’m giving in.
For tonight, I’m hers.