Page 82 of Lawless in Leather

“I’m going to go back inside,” she said.

His hand shot out, then halted just before he grabbed her wrist.

She looked down at the hand then back at its owner then took two steps back again. Distance. Out of reach. She hated that she was doing that calculation in her head. The way she had, she’d realized in the days after she’d first left Jeremy, been doing with Jeremy for quite some time before he finally cracked that night. The thought made her breath catch and her stomach twist. “I’m glad you didn’t do what you almost just did. But I think we need a break here, Mal. You need to figure some things out. I’m going back inside. Maybe you should go back to Deacon for a few hours so I can get Wash and my things from your place.”

“Raina.” The words were a plea.

“No,” she said. “I’ve told you what I want and right now you get no say in anything to do with what I do.”

“Fine.” His eyes looked almost black in the weird lighting of the alley. Black and unfriendly. Pissed off. Well, that made two of them.

She wheeled and stalked back down the alley, aware that one of her wings felt weird, its weight unbalanced. As she reached the back exit, it opened and Luis stuck his head out. “Raina. There you are.” He looked past her and his face went still. “Is Mal coming back in? I got things calmed down and we fixed the light. Brady wanted to know if you want to do the finale.”

She refused to turn around and look back at Mal. To see what she was walking away from. Because it would be too easy for him to convince her that everything was okay. And it wasn’t. And if she stood here in the alley and thought about that hard, she was going to burst into tears all over Luis. She took a shaky breath and walked past Luis into the opening doorway. Back where she belonged. Her world. Not Mal’s. “No,” she said. “Show’s over.”

Chapter Nineteen

It took every ounce of Raina’s willpower—and a few gallons of coffee to make up for her lack of sleep—to walk into Deacon the next afternoon. She painted her face and donned an all-black outfit apart from the blue-and-silver scarf—her concession to the Saints’ colors—wrapped around her neck. The skinny jeans and spiked heels and her favorite battered leather jacket weren’t making her feel any better. Not even the nearly Stage-Raina makeup was working. But she hoped they might at least convince everyone else that she felt better. Doubtful when almost everyone she was going to see today had been at Madame R last night. Had seen Mal sweep her off the stage.

And by now, unless the Saints grapevine had failed spectacularly, a lot of them would know that he hadn’t come back into the club.

For which she was grateful. It had been hard enough to hold herself together while she apologized to Alex for the drama and then overseen the post-party cleanup. Luis and Brady had gone with her to Mal’s but he hadn’t been there. They’d scooped up Wash and Raina’s things and taken her back to their house. She’d tried to argue and get them to take her to her apartment but Luis had put his foot down.

“Mal overreacted,” he said. “I’m not arguing with that. I get why you’re upset. But they haven’t found whoever it was who went to town on your wings, so until then you’re not staying alone.”

By that point she was too tired to fight. She’d used up all her fight on Mal. She’d cried in the shower and then crawled into bed with Wash, who’d slept far more soundly than she had.

Mal hadn’t called or texted or contacted her in any way. She was fighting not to check her phone every five seconds. But she’d told him to leave her alone and apparently that was one order he was taking seriously.

Careful what you wish for.

Or something.

They needed space: That much was clear. But that didn’t mean space was easy.

Maggie was standing outside the Angels’ locker room.

She gave Raina a quick hug. “I just came to see if you’re okay.”

“I am,” Raina said. “And I’ll stay okay as long as you don’t add in some sort of plea on Mal’s behalf.”

“I haven’t seen him,” Maggie said. “I gather from Alex and Lucas that he’s holed up down in the security office. But no, I won’t argue his case. I think he’s a good guy but he has to realize he’s not Superman sooner or later. I hope it’s sooner.”

So do I.

“I have to go in and talk to the girls,” Raina said. “Thanks for checking on me but I’m okay. Mal and I—well, maybe we’re just not a good fit. I can’t be what he needs if he needs someone who’ll stay inside where he can see her every second of the day.”

“Just don’t write him off too fast,” Maggie said. “And now I’ll leave you before I break my promise and start defending him. See you after the game.”

“Go Saints,” Raina said. Then she walked into the locker room to rev up her Angels and try and forget about her demon for a few hours.

“You know, we thought you might be joining us,” Lucas said. “Being one of the owners of a team that just won another game.”

Mal looked up from his computer monitor. Lucas stood in the door to his office, beer in hand. He wore a Saints jacket over a white polo shirt that looked brand new and unwrinkled despite the fact Lucas must have been wearing it for hours. “Busy,” he said shortly. He rubbed his hand along his jaw and looked back at the computer, feeling the stiffness in his body from sitting too long. His own clothes were definitely not unrumpled. He’d been down here since last night, which made it the seventh night in a row he’d worked through the night at Deacon since the party. He desperately needed a shower, some clothes that he hadn’t dug out of the duffel he kept stashed in his office, and some sleep in a real bed. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

That would mean going home to his apartment. Where Raina wasn’t.

“Do you mind if I ask what you’re doing?”

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