“Off limits, remember. I’m not allowed to get involved with any of the security staff or guards.” I lean back in the booth and sigh. “Besides, I like Harley. He’s always been there, Jess, I can’t just leave for no reason.”
She places her hand over mine on the table, her fingertips brush across the fading bruise on my wrist. “You have a reason. He’s a bastard.” As we walk over to the bar to search for Harley, Jess continues, “I still reckon you should try to score one of the Fallons—”
“Jess, please,” I whine as we head toward the other side of the club.
She shouts over the music. “Are you serious? Let’s go.”
When my eyes lock onto hers, shock crosses her face and she says something into Harley’s ear. He turns his head, glancing over his shoulder, his mouth smeared with Candie-Cane (with an E) pink lipstick.
“You bastard,” I cry.
From beside me, Jess’s voice is calm, but I can hear the rage brewing. “No more, Lex. This is it; I won’t let you keep doing this.”
Before I can reply to Jess, Harley rushes toward me, arms raised in defence. “I can explain.”
I raise my hand and slap his face. “It’s over. I’m sick of this. Every month it’s the same damn thing.” God, I’m so stupid.
Harley takes my hand, his eyes dark with rage. I pull away. “No more. It’s over, for good.” I spin on my heel and run, not caring that tears of frustration are streaming down my cheeks as I push my way through the crowd. The anguish of Harley cheating on me—again—is nothing compared to the shame I feel for stupidly taking him back and letting him break my heart, time after time.
When I reach the door of the club, I shove past the security guards and keep running along the pavement until I slam into a hard, huge body. And god, he smells good.
Strong arms wrap around me and I gulp a breath of air and stare up at Clay Fallon. Shit. Of all the people I had to run into, it’s him.
He drops his arms and takes my hands. As usual, he’s wearing the same soft leather gloves I’ve seen him wear at work. Through them, his hands are warm.
“Lexi?”
“Ah, yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry, I really need to go.” Right after I gawk at you for a few more seconds.
He brushes my hair back off my face. “You’ve been crying, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head hard. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
When he drops his gaze something resembling a cross between a growl and a sigh leaves his lips. “Where are your shoes? And you’re not fine... What happened?” There’s an urgency in his tone.
Damn. My shoes. My attempt to step back and put some distance between us, is futile. He merely tightens his grasp on my hands and tugs me closer. “Lexi?”
I clamp my eyes shut allowing the images of him hot, sweaty, and maybe a little naked swirl through my mind. At work, I cannot take my eyes off him. Now, it’s harder with him standing so close. Raw masculinity practically seeping from his pores. “I... uh...”
Jessica catches up, huffing and puffing, my pink stilettos tight in her grasp. “Lexi.” She stops and glances down to where Clay is still holding my hands. “Hey, I’m Jessica. I’m her bestie.”
Clay drops my hands quickly. “Hi Jessica. What’s going on here? Do you girls need a lift home?” His eyebrow arches with a questioning stare.
“We’re fine,” I assure him.
Jess, ever the flirt, bats her lashes. “Actually, that would be great. Since Lexi’s boyfriend ditched us and cheated on her with Candie-Cane.” She plants her hands on her hips with a mock sigh of frustration. “Our other friends want to stay, and I really don’t want to walk home.”
Clay shifts his gaze between me and Jess before his eyes come to rest on mine. “So you’re fine?”
Out here in the cool night air, the effects of the alcohol are taking their toll and my knees wobble slightly. “Ah, huh.”
He places a hand under my elbow. “Hmm... Right. Well, even though you’re fine, I’m going to call my driver and he can give you both a lift home.”
“You’re not coming?” A pout forms across Jess’s full lips.
I turn my head and glare at her, but she gives me her this is going to be awesome smile.
“You’re so kind... Mr Fallon, right? You’re Clay?” She giggles and smooths her hand over her alcohol stained birthday sash. “It’s my birthday, so I totally don’t want to get murdered tonight.”
I pray she’ll shut her mouth and not mention her “conspiracy theories”. No such luck. She continues as though the world revolves around her. “I heard there’s a gang who go around kidnapping, raping and murdering girls...” She adds a little shiver of fear as though she’s certain she’s next on some serial killer’s hit list.
I slap my palm to my forehead. “There’s no gang, Jess.”
“You don’t know for sure. Remember that night at Rollin’ when one of the girls disappeared then came back an hour later all weird and freaking out. She said she saw some guys fighting near the park, and one of them had wings.” She folds her arms. “Plus, those three missing girls haven’t been found yet. I bet they were murdered.”
Will she ever shut up? “Drugs,” I say. “Drugs make you say—and see—crazy things. No one was murdered.”
Clay laughs and shakes his head before extending his hand to Jess. “Yes, I’m Clay Fallon. One of Lexi’s bosses. Lexi’s right, drugs are a problem in the valley at the moment. As for the missing girls, I heard they’re runaways—it’s not uncommon.”
Jess runs her hand down his arm with a seductive smile. “Hmm... I guess so. Well, thank you for offering to drive us home.” She pulls her lip gloss from her purse and swipes it across her lips before handing me the thin tube.
“Stop it,” I say through gritted teeth.
With a huge smile, she opens her mouth to speak, but she’s cut off when carried on the crisp night air, my name is called in the distance. “Lexi, can we please talk?”
Jess narrows her eyes, pointing a warning finger at him. “Get lost, asshole. Go suck face with Candie-Cane and stay away from my best friend. She doesn’t need you.”
Harley glares at her. “It’s none of your business. Stay the fuck out of it, Jessica.”
I’m about to tell Harley to get lost, when Clay steps forward and gently pushes Jess behind him. “They don’t want to talk to you. So, how about you turn around and go back the way you came before I add another bruise to your face.”
Harley clenches his fist at the same time Clay’s brother, Knox comes around the corner wearing a black leather jacket and tight black leather pants. “Brother, what’s going on?” He winks at me while running a hand through his thick, dark hair.
My heart rate increases, I’m not into Knox at all, but like Clay, he’s beautiful. With his scars and tattoos, and his deep gravelly voice, he’s every bit the bad boy with a chip on his shoulder. A broken masterpiece of male perfection.
Harley shoves a hand into his pocket and hesitates, clearly afraid of Knox who always appears as though he’s about to go ape shit on anyone who crosses his path.