28. Soul Aching Love #2
Ansel Reid is behind bars, and Enzo is running from his family. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he’s got more pressing things to worry about than me. He killed his own brother, and his family is after him. I don’t want anyone D-E-A-D, but better him than me.
Payne has kept his word. All week he hasn’t taken his eyes off me, whether I’m working at the Combover or I’m behind the mic in The Speakeasy.
He’s tried to start the conversation about dropping my day job waiting tables, but I’m not leaving Winnie and Carl in a pinch.
It’s a temporary job anyway. There’s no way I’ll quit until Winnie is back to one hundred percent.
Payne stands at the end of the bar sipping his drink of choice—soda water with a lime. His parents did a number on him. He said the reminder of what it’s done in his life is too much to stomach.
Dean made good on his promise. He got here in the middle of the second set and hasn’t left Payne’s side. Devon even joined them an hour ago. They sit next to Payne and have talked all night, but Payne’s attention has been solely on me.
Until two minutes ago.
He took a phone call. And I doubt one of his clients had an investment emergency into the wee hours between Friday and Saturday.
It’s all I can do to focus on the song and not throw the mic on the old wooden floor and rush over to him. The last time this happened, Grandma almost died and we lost our home.
Something isn’t right.
Dean abandons his half-drunk beer and stands. Devon huddles with them. None of them are calm or cool. I’d say they’re on guard, but that’s not quite it.
Payne has a look on his face I’m not sure I’ve ever seen. The adult Payne might be new to me, but I know him better than I know anyone. This expression is between pained and angry and...
I don’t know.
Murderous.
There’s no other description.
I turn to give Blake the signal to start the last song. It has to be good to end a night like this when Blake, the bar, and I will walk away with more tips than ever.
Journey.
Don’t Stop Believin’.
It doesn’t get any more iconic than that. If they don’t know every word to this song, they’ve lived under a rock or on a commune their entire lives.
When you’ve been singing in bars as long as I have, you become skilled at performing and staying attuned to your surroundings. My attention might seem like it’s on the crowd, but it’s not.
Payne slides his cell into his pocket and drags a hand down his face.
Yes.
Fury and manslaughter are written all over him.
I need to wrap this up. I need to know whether to freak out or calm the man I plan to live with for the rest of my life. I just got him back. I don’t want to visit him through prison bars.
Finally, Blake and I take our final bows and have to fight off guests begging for one more song. My vocal cords are toast, and I need to get to my man.
I let Blake do what he does best and hang back to talk to guests. I go straight to Payne and claim what’s left of his soda water. After I down it, I look up at him and lower my voice. “What’s wrong?”
He pulls my front to his and slides his hand down to the small of my back. The tips of his fingers press in on the swell of my ass in the new dress I ordered off the internet since every other one I own is lying in a pile of ash in Grandma’s old house.
Payne puts his lips to my ear. “I got some bad news. Probably the worst news I could imagine. Let me get you out of here, and I’ll fill you in.”
He puts his arm around me and ushers me out of The Speakeasy, through the atrium, and to the back offices of the manor where Blake and I left our things. Dean and Devon follow.
The door is barely shut behind us when I turn to him. “What’s going on? Did they find Enzo?”
“I wish that were it.” Payne shakes his head and glances between Dean and Devon before turning back to me. “I don’t know how to tell you this. Fuck, I still can’t comprehend it myself. I thought he was shitting me at first.”
My feet are killing me, so I kick off my shoes. “Worse than Enzo?”
Devon tips his head on a wince. “I think that depends on what happens next. And I was only brought up to speed about this in the last fifteen minutes.”
Dean steps up and slaps his best friend on the shoulder and leaves his hand there for a firm, supportive grip. “I think it depends on who you ask.”
My gaze shifts to Payne. “Tell me.”
Dean’s hand falls when Payne cuts the distance to me. Anger rolls off him in waves. “This is bad, but it’s fucking worse after what you told me this week. I got a call from Brand Vitale. I can’t believe this fucking happened. He was safer behind bars. I’m going to kill him.”
Dean inserts himself. “Whoa. No one’s going vigilante here. I will not allow my best friend to go down for that asshole.”
Devon slides his hands into his pockets and looks too nonchalant for this conversation. “I’m just putting it out there that I know people. They’re professionals. There’s no reason to step into a lane you’re not familiar with.”
My jaw drops. I reach out to grab Payne’s hand to get his attention. “What’s going on?”
He pulls me to his chest. “He’ll never get close to you. I won’t allow it.”
My heart drops. “Who?”
Anguish seeps into his eyes. It’s like he has to force his lips to form the answer. “My father.”
Those two little words wipe the air clean out of me. “Why would he get close to me? He’s in prison.”
Payne’s square jaw goes more rigid than I’ve ever seen it. Then, a slight shake of his head. “Not anymore. He got a pardon.”
I shake my head. “No. How would he? He almost killed a bus full of people. And with so many DUIs in his past—”
Payne tightens his hold on me. “It doesn’t matter. He was in a group of pardons. It was political. Who the fuck knows. I’m sure it’s some asshole politician who goes way back with my father. Brand called me as soon as he found out. He feels like shit.”
I let everything sink in. I’m not afraid of Owen Deacon—not anymore. I was between a girl and a woman when he assaulted me.
Hell, I was no woman. I was a scared girl who had no idea how to fight back or defend herself. I was afraid of his power and authority.
If I could travel back to that day, I would go down fighting. Not only to protect myself. I’d do it for Payne.
I’d do it for us.
My fingers grip his dress shirt. “He’ll never touch me again. I’m not afraid of him.”
“He’s coming back,” Payne announces.
“You don’t know that,” Dean says.
“I do.” Payne turns to face Dean and Devon.
“He has nothing. No money, no place to live, and no company since I took it over. And he’s in that position because of me.
I might have the one connection to make sure he got the maximum sentence possible, but it doesn’t compare to his.
He knows what I did by now. I’m sure of it. ”
A silence falls over the room that’s so thick and intense, it makes my stomach turn.
I fit myself to his side and look up. “When did he get out?”
“He was pardoned yesterday. Got out today. He had friends all over Seattle. Who knows if they’ll open their doors to him now that he has nothing to his name.
It’s not like my parents ran in circles where they had deep and meaningful friendships.
Their acquaintance list was determined by their net value, and vice versa. ”
“Which means he has nowhere to go and a grudge to bear,” Dean states.
A thought springs to my mind, and not a pleasant one. “Your mother. What if he tries to contact your mother first?”
Payne exhales. “I need to get you home anyway. Let’s get Blake and go. If Dad turns up at the house, I want to be there.”
“Maybe I should come and hang out for the night,” Dean offers.
Payne grabs my bag as I slide my feet into my comfy shoes. “Thanks, but I don’t think there’s a need for that. I’ll call if he shows up.”
“I’m here too,” Devon reminds us. “And don’t forget, I have friends.”
Well, then.
I do not want to know what kind of friends those are. I’ll never look at my boss the same way again.