6. HUNTER
HUNTER
I ’d rather drag my balls across broken glass before ever admitting out loud that Maddox was right. Yet here I am, standing outside Black Velvet on a Saturday night, prepared to get my ass handed to me by the stunning spitfire at the bar.
Fuck my life. Out of all the women I could chase, I picked the one who’d happily skin me alive.
There’re two things I know to be true.
One, I more than fucked up. I left Lyra at that bar alone after promising her the night of her life.
And two? I’m not nearly done with her.
I need to make this right, even if it means dropping to my knees and begging forgiveness like the emotionally constipated asshole that I am. Though if she were smart, she wouldn’t fall for my shit. She’d tell me to fuck off, burn me where I stood, stomp on my ashes, then flush them down the toilet.
The line outside stretches halfway down the block, filled with drunk idiots and bad decisions. They’re all standing behind a purple velvet rope while the bass from the speakers pounds through the walls and echoes down the street.
I walk by the line. There’s no way I’m about to wait in that for the next two hours, especially considering the likelihood of Lyra telling me to fuck off. I’d rather get it over and done with, and when she inevitably tells me to kiss my own ass, I’ll still have hours in my night to do so.
As I approach the front of the line, I see the same two bouncers that were here last week, and I let out a sigh. They seemed pretty close with Lyra when we were leaving. Protective almost. What are the chances they remember my face?
Marcus spots me first. Then Dean. And considering neither of them look pleased to see me, I’d say the chances they remember who I am are pretty fucking good.
Both men stand on the other side of the velvet rope like two human brick walls in black shirts with thick, tattooed arms folded over wide chests, and if the leather cuts are anything to go by, I’d say these assholes aren’t the kind of men I want to start trouble with.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m trained to handle this swiftly and easily, but here in front of Lyra’s bar? Nah. Messy isn’t my style.
As I walk closer, Marcus shifts to the left, directly blocking my path, and his stare narrows. “Absolutely not,” he says, letting out a slow breath through his nose like a raging bull.
I stop a few feet short. “Good evening to you too.”
Dean shakes his head. “You’ve got balls showing up here.”
“I’m aware.”
“That all you’ve got?” Marcus asks flatly. “No big apology? No flowers? No fucking skywriter leaving a message admitting you screwed over our boss?”
I glance between them, getting irritated at the hold up. “You two rehearse this?”
Dean ignores me. “Lyra doesn’t go out, and she sure as fuck doesn’t cut a shift early just to spend time with some random asshole she met at her bar, which means she was excited about this, and you fucking ghosted mid-date. She came back here looking like she was about to set the world on fire.”
I just stare at him, because honestly, what does he want me to do? Grovel on my knees? Ain’t no way. That’s not my style. Besides, I don’t owe these two shit. Lyra, yes. But these guys? Absolutely not.
Marcus shakes his head, letting out a sigh, seeming to be the more forgiving of the two. “You hurt her. I’ve never seen her like that, and we care about her, so you’ll have to understand that we don’t want to see that shit happen again.”
Okay. That one lands, and fuck, tell me why it’s sitting on my chest like a rusty blade.
“I know,” I tell them. “I’m more than aware that I fucked it up. Hurting her was never my intention. I have an . . . obscure job, and when duty calls, it fucking calls. It was bad timing. Give me a chance to make it up to her. If anything, she tells me to fuck off, and I’ll leave.”
Dean studies me like he’s deciding whether I’m worth the paperwork before exchanging a glance with Marcus. There’s a moment of silence before Dean’s face falls. “Oh, fuck no. You’ve got to be kidding. We’re not letting this asshole in.”
“It ain’t our call to make. Lyra decides who she fucks, not us.”
Dean shakes his head. “This is fucking stupid.”
Marcus grunts before moving out of the way, and as I inch closer, his hand whips up, a sharp finger pressed hard against my chest. “If you upset her again, I will personally tear you limb from limb. Understood?”
I nod. “Loud and clear.”
There’s a beat as they both watch me before Marcus finally drops his hand away, and as I step past them and through the main entrance, I feel them both staring at me like I’d personally insulted their families.
Though I suppose that’s exactly what I did by leading her on and walking out on our night early.
Moving deeper into the bar, I’m hit with the smell of citrus and whiskey, and the familiar chaos of Black Velvet unfolds around me.
The dance floor is packed, and the bartenders are working fast to fill orders the crowd is calling out.
Something tells me this is exactly what Lyra pictured when she opened this place.
I find her immediately, standing behind the busy bar, wiping down a spill, and even from across the room, I can tell the black shirt clinging to her body is soaking wet.
Looks like I just missed one of her award-winning performances.
Honestly, nothing cuts me deeper. What I wouldn’t give to see her dance like that again.
Preferably just for me in the privacy of my home with my hands all over her body.
Weaving through the throng of people, I make my way toward the bar, unable to take my eyes off her.
She’s just as stunning as I recall. Those soft blond waves trail down her back, and the tiny silver piercings lining her ears catch in the neon lights.
She looks like an avenging fucking angel all lit up just for me.
Stepping right up to the bar, I watch her for a minute, skillfully making her way through the customers, and there’s no denying that she’s good at what she does. She juggles those orders like Maddox juggles his poor life choices.
Then those green eyes land on me, and her smile vanishes. Her gaze narrows, and when her jaw sets, a grin pulls across my lips.
She seems pissed. Rather than scanning me from head to toe in the same heated way she’d done before, she’s looking me over now like she’s trying to decide where to stab me. Perhaps I didn’t blow it after all if she cares enough to feel that kind of rage.
Lyra glares at me, bracing a hand on her hip. “Oh, you’re alive. What a shame.”
“That seems to disappoint you.”
Her lips twist into a scowl, but her eyes dance with venom. “ Don’t take it personally .”
Ahh fuck.
I deserve that, but in my defense, I told her not to take it personally. It’s not my fault she can’t follow instructions. Though she seems like the type of girl who would lose her shit if I pointed that out, then I might not walk out of this bar with my balls intact.
“Just as savage as I remember,” I murmur, so unbelievably drawn to this woman in her rage-fueled fury, all I want to do is push her buttons and watch her tear me to pieces. “Let me make it up to you.”
Her jaw tightens, and I have to give her credit where it’s due. She didn’t tell me to drown in acid, which is a bonus.
I fix her with a stare, letting her know just how serious I am. “Let me buy you a drink, Lyra.”
She barks a sharp laugh as though I just asked if she would like to fuck an overgrown cactus. “I would rather lick the floor of a public bathroom than go out with you again,” she says before smiling at the customer beside me and taking his order.
I let out a breath as I grip the edge of the bar, trying to keep myself from jumping over the damn thing and getting in her face until she can no longer ignore me.
She does her thing, doing her best to tune me out, but the tightness in her body tells me she’s painfully aware that I’m still here. “I’m serious, Savage,” I tell her. “I like you, and I’m not about to just walk away. I know you felt it too. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be so worked up.”
Lyra lets out a sigh, and after handing a beer to the guy next to me, she turns that lethal stare back on me.
“I did care. I cared so much that I cut my shift short and put on a nice outfit. But you fucked it up. You fumbled, and I don’t give second chances, especially not to guys who leave me sitting alone at a bar at four in the morning after bragging about how thoroughly he was going to fuck me.
A better option came along, and that’s fine.
Own it. But now that you’ve likely screwed that one up too, I’m not about to be someone’s consolation prize. ”
Her words hit me like a fucking weapon, and I arch a brow as I take her in. “That’s what you think? That I see you as a consolation prize?”
“What else am I supposed to think? You literally got a booty call in the middle of our date and immediately bailed for a better option. You’re an ass and a player.
I see right through your game, and I’m not interested.
Go find some other girl to screw over because it won’t be me. Besides, I’m seeing somebody else now.”
Her words cut through me like a blade, and while I’d give anything to explain what really happened that night and why I had to leave, I can’t do that without putting her life at risk.
Then as if seeing the way her words tear at my soul, a small sharp smile starts pulling at her lips like the little savage I know her to be. “You missed your shot, Hunter.”
Something wavers in her stare, and I realize she’s bullshitting right through her teeth. She’s not seeing someone, though she might have used some poor bastard to scratch that itch. I still have her right where I want her.
I recover almost immediately and scoff. “Oh, Savage. You really think that’s an issue for me?”
Her stare narrows on me. “It should be.”
A grin pulls at my lips, and I lean closer into the bar, my stare eating her alive. “That depends,” I murmur, knowing she hears me perfectly over the loud bass. “Does he make you squirm the way I do?”
Something sharp flashes across her face before she quickly pulls away, turning her focus to the next eager customer when she seems to reconsider and whips back around, fixing me with a stare that’s hard enough to wake the dead.
And I know without a doubt, she’s about to deliver the final blow, slamming the last nail straight into my coffin.
“You know what? He does make me squirm,” she tells me.
“And better yet, he follows through. He gets the job done and leaves me shaking for hours after, and that’s a shitload better than whatever bullshit you were serving the other night.
Now, please, for the love of all that’s holy, get the hint and leave me alone.
I might have been interested, but like I said, I don’t offer second chances.
I learn from my mistakes, and maybe you should do the same so you don’t screw over the next girl who foolishly falls into your trap. ”
Fuck me. She’s got me there.
I should leave. Any smart man would see that the door to this possibility isn’t just closed, it’s bolted and welded shut, but unfortunately for me, I never claimed to be a smart man. I’m a sucker for punishment, and Lyra seems like the kind of girl who loves to dish it out.
My eyes drag over her, and seeing the hurt in her eyes, I realize that’s all this is.
There is definitely something here, something worth exploring, but she needs time to heal, time to hate me for letting her down, and that’s okay.
I’ve got nothing but time, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to back down.
I’ll be here waiting the second she’s ready, and we’ll pick up right where we left off, only by then, the tension between us is going to shred us both to pieces.
Maddox was definitely right. I like this girl, and she could hate me all she wants, but it’s not going to change a thing.
This little Savage is going to be mine, whether she likes it or not.
“Okay, Lyra. I’ll leave you alone . . . for tonight, that is,” I tell her, leaning in and taking her chin, her lips so close to mine. “But this thing between us isn’t over. I feel it, and I know you feel it too. So push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”
She scoffs as she pulls her chin free. “I’m not interested, Hunter,” she says before crippling me with a savage smirk. “Don’t take it personally.”
And with that, she turns and walks away, busying herself with the people at the other end of the bar. And I realize that winning this spitfire back is going to be the death of me.