Chapter 28
Myssa
Today is the big day. The concert I still know nothing about.
Two days ago, I’d woken up in Zayne’s arms on the couch, and if it wasn’t for my bladder protesting, I would have stayed like that for the whole day.
We never talked about it, just moved on like nothing ever happened.
When I got up, and his warmth was no longer sheltering me, the emptiness of it all sunk in.
These mixed signals are not helping. But I don’t know what else to do.
We’re all sitting here on pins and needles, waiting for Jasper’s next move.
Sipping my coffee this morning, I look out from the balcony by Zayne’s office to see that the dance floor has been removed to have general admission standing.
My last-ditch effort to find out who it is blocked once again by Knox as he stands next to me.
He’s like a damn vault, refusing to budge.
“No, Myssa, Zayne would have my balls if I spilled,” he says to me, going over a checklist on his iPad.
“But, Knooooox.” I whine, trying to learn over to look at what he’s doing. Whoever made the privacy screen should be cursed.
Knox moves over a little, his face deadpan, as if he can’t be bothered with my antics today.
I hear a laugh behind me and snap back to find Vix making her way up the stairs toward me, coffee in one hand, and her backpack slung on the opposite shoulder.
“Dude, it’s a few hours. Trust us when we say it’s worth the wait.” She sips her drink.
“How the hell did you sway Vix to get here so early?” I look between Knox and Vix. Zayne’s office door opens, and he stops to see the three of us standing there.
“Stop harassing my employees.” Zayne laughs as he steps around Knox to look over the balcony at the progress of the last-minute staging.
“Why you gotta ruin my fun? I almost got Knox to spill.” I lie.
“Not happening,” Knox sings in confirmation, his eyes still glued to his tablet.
“How are we looking?” Zayne asks Knox.
“We beefed up security for obvious reasons, and barricades are in place by the stage. It’s a sold-out show, not bad for a concert that no one knows who's coming.”
“Let’s just hope it goes smoothly,” Zayne adds.
“When is the band getting here?” Knox asks.
Zayne checks his watch. “Soon. Which means…” he trails off as he turns and looks at me.
“I’m being sent to my room like a child?” I cross my arms in protest.
Zayne shakes his head and laughs. “Myssa, we talked about this, it’s a surprise. Look, if it makes you feel any better, Vix is coming upstairs to hang with you, not to work. I have the prep work being taken care of for the bar.”
Vix just smiles, holding her coffee cup at me in a salute.
“FINE,” I say, still protesting. “I have to get ready then, anyway.” I whip around and head down the stairs, Vix tailing behind me as we make our way to the elevator.
As I open the door to the loft, Vix comes to a sudden halt, taking in the room.
“Damn, so this is how the other half lives?” she says.
I toss my keys on the table. “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. Can’t complain.” I shrug like it’s not a big deal.
Vix turns around. “So, we haven’t really talked that much lately, because of all the crazy going on with the concert. Tell me what’s going on with you and Zayne? Are you Still,” she makes air quotes, “just friends?”
Defeat laces my voice. “Yes, for now, but it’s hard, Vix.
Every time I’m around him, l feel like this is home, that this is how it’s supposed to be.
And don’t get me started about the times when he brushes up against me for any reason.
My entire body lights up like a fucking Christmas tree.
I can’t concentrate on anything but what I want to do to him.
” I watch Vix walking around the loft, being nosy looking at the books on his shelves, and pictures on the walls.
I lean on the kitchen counter and groan.
“I don’t know how much I can keep doing the just friends. It's torturous. I woke up a few days ago on the couch, and he was spooning me. Like, how the fuck is that not sending mixed signals?”
“Spooning you?” she peers back over her shoulder at me.
I sigh in frustration as I walk into the living room. “Yeah. It’s these little things that breathe hope into my soul that this could be more. I mean, I can’t be the only one feeling this.” I flop down face-first on the couch in defeat and dramatically scream my frustrations into a pillow.
I hear Vix sit next to me on the coffee table.
“I’ve watched the way he looks at you, Myssa, when you're not paying attention—you are not the only one. I really don’t think this stalemate you are in is going to last much longer.”
I life my head off the pillow and blow my hair out of my face as I look at her. “You really think so?” I ask hopefully.
“Yeah, I do. Trust me, it’s gonna happen.”
“I hope so, because these last few weeks have felt effortless with him. We just have such a connection.” Sitting up, I hug the pillow against my chest.
“Ugh, ok, enough about that,” she declares as she rips my security pillow away from me.
“Rude,” I huff as I stand up and make my way to the fridge.
“You want something to drink?” she nods.
“Oh Vix, you know what would make me feel better?” I ask, attempting one last time to time to pry information out of her.
“Nice try, I’m not telling you, but I’ll take that water.” Vix smirks. “Though I will tell you that the concert sold out in less than twenty minutes when tickets went on sale.”
“That’s insane for not knowing who the band is” I hand her a bottled water.
“That’s for sure. Do you know what you're wearing tonight?” she says with a devilish grin.
“Not a clue. Care to help me pick it out?” I tilt my head toward the stairs leading to my bedroom.
“Lead the way,” she says.
Vix sets up her make-up kit on the dresser as I sit in a chair. I hear a knock at the door.
“That’s for me,” Vix chimes.
“Who is it?” I ask, but she’s already out the door.
How is she inviting people up here? How are they getting in?
Just as I’m about to investigate, she walks in, rolling her eyes with her boots in her hand.
“We have company,” she huffs.
Knox walks in behind her, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hi, Myssa,” he says, without a care in the world as he takes a seat on the bed.
I turn to look at him. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs?”
“Yeah, shouldn’t you?” She stares daggers at him as she crosses her arms in protest.
“Easy, killer, I’m on break. We are allowed those. Hence, why you have your boots, and that’s why you texted me,” he says, putting his hands up in defeat.
“Besides, I came to talk to Myssa,” he says, looking back at me.
“What’s up?” I say, as Vix starts applying my make-up.
“How are you doing? You know, with all the crazy.” He gestures with his hands like an explosion by his head.
That’s a loaded question, I decide. My sister and Jasper are always on my mind.
Trying to live with some kind of normalcy at the same time as worrying about the things I can’t control creates such a tight web of conflict.
Some days I feel guilty, knowing that Jasper has my sister, and that his end game is me.
And yet I’m over here, just living my life.
Most days I know Nik would be pissed if I spiraled, trying to figure it out.
I have to trust that when Zayne has info, he will give it to me.
Trust is not something I give lightly, after the constant betrayals I’ve suffered throughout my life.
There is something that’s been bugging me, though, so I figure, why not ask them while we’re all together?
“You know, now that I have the two of you in the same room, I have a question,”
Vix stops applying my make-up, and Knox sits up.
“Shoot,” he says.
“What do you know about Jonathan?” I ask.
Vix pauses what she’s doing, and I look from her to Knox. He swallows hard as his face turns pale. This was not the reaction I thought I’d get from this question. Feeling the discomfort in the room, I continue.
“I mean, I know bits and pieces of what Zayne has told me, but that’s about it. Like, is he a threat to us?”
Knox shifts on the bed. Happy-go-lucky Knox is speechless, and now it’s making me wonder if I should have opened this box of questions.
“Jonathan,” Vix starts to say, but just looks over at Knox, as if she’s not sure what she should say.
Finally, Knox finds his voice.
“You know, Jonathan was an Original, and that Jasper took his soul?” he says.
I silently nod, not wanting to interrupt.
“Zayne was there when it happened.” His voice shakes as he wrings his hands nervously.
“What?” Is all that escapes from my mouth as I grip the arm of the chair.
Vix leans against the dresser, clearly already in the know.
“It’s why he doesn’t like to talk about it. He feels guilty that he didn’t do anything to prevent it from happening.” Knox explains
“Why, what could he have done?” I ask in disbelief. “He didn’t know.” A flash of the other night when we’d talked about it comes to mind. How distant he was, clearly trapped in the nightmare of that night, and I put him there.
“I asked him about it the other night—ugh, I’m such a jerk,” I stress, shaking my head.
Knox walks over kneeling next to me.
“No, Myssa, you’re not. You wouldn’t have known.” Knox rests his hand to my arm to comfort me.
“I told you, because you needed to know. But you have to promise me you won’t tell him.” He stands up, and I look at him questioningly.
He wipes his hand down his face. “Vault, Myssa,” he says.
I stare at him. Vault is something we came up with when we didn’t want anyone else knowing.
Basically, secrets that if spilled would end friendships.
But wouldn’t it be easier for Zayne to know that I don’t judge him for this, for not helping?
I, of all people, know what it’s like to deal with Jasper first-hand.
I think I get it, though. It’s not like he’s the only one keeping a secret. Reluctantly, I agree.
“Vault.” I hold out my pinky, and he grabs it before we shake.
“Now, you guys get ready. The show is in a few hours, and I know it takes Vix at least three hours to get ready.” He smiles.
“Asshole,” she says, smacking him on his bicep as he walks past her.
He flinches and laughs on his way to the door.
“I mean, he’s not—” I get cut off and stifle my smile when she whips her finger in my direction.
“Not another fucking word,” she says.
A few hours later, she walks me to the mirror.
“There,” Vix says, looking proudly from behind me as she moves her hands from my eyes to show me her makeover.
My hair has been whipped into a teased ponytail, my make-up done in a Vix’s signature smokey-eye style, topped off with a deep wine-colored lipstick.
The look is completed with leather pants, a black tank top, my platform boots, and a black hooded, open cardigan.
“Let’s see if this gets his attention. Your ass looks hot in these pants,” she says, smacking my backside.
I turn around, and if I’m honest, she’s not wrong. I take a step to my dresser and grab my bracelets and rings.
“We are just friends,” I say half-heartedly.
“Yeah, ok,” she scoffs.
“The number of times I’ve watched you two flirt and steal glances at each other makes me want to…” She proceeds to make a pretend gagging noise.
I push her playfully. Vix has always been my wing woman.
“Shut the fuck up, Vix.” I chuckle.
“Hey, watch it, you’re gonna make me mess up my own make-up,” she says as she applies her lipstick.
With her hair in an oversized loose braid, her bright-green-and-black eyeshadow, and green lipstick with black liner, Vix will forever be a force to be wreckin’ with.
She’s wearing a black mini skirt that barely covers her ass, fishnet stockings, a black bra halter top with her tall platform shoes. I know what she is doing right now, and it’s going to drive Knox crazy.
It is the look he “forbids” her to wear while working. Not because there’s a dress code, because there isn’t. Does he try to pretend this is one, yes…yes, he does. The truth is it’s because he can’t concentrate and gets all alpha male on her.
“Oh, I see we are trying to get Knox's attention this evening? You know he is gonna flip his shit when he sees you.”
She shrugs. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my boyfriend, my brother, or my father, so he can fuck right off. Plus, I’m hoping to maybe to get lucky tonight. It’s been a minute, and mama can use a release.”
I laugh. “I hear that.”
"You ready?” she fastens her earring and stands up.
“Yep,” I grab my phone and my keys. Vix follows me out, and we head out to the club.