Page 29 of Black Bird

“I’d like that, mi’lady … thank you.” He offered her a half-smile. She nodded in dismissal, and he felt the weight of the door swish shut as he stepped back into the hallway. Something twisted deep in his hollow gut as he walked heavy-footed back to the main chamber of the tavern.

What had he done?

It was seemingly a meaningless interrogation. One he knew very little about. He assured himself that he shouldn’t care. That it wasn’t his business and if he valued staying alive—however alive they were—he should stay out of it. But could he even do that now? He silently prayed that the pretty girl that had lived through that attack … the one who continued to live as a human somehow, didn’t return to this place. If there was any reason for Dahlia to be scoping her out, then she had some sort of agenda. He didn’t want to think of what that girl may be used for. In all the years that he’d spent in the Black Bird coven … for the first time, Tony wished he wasn’t part of it.

“What exactly would you have done, dude? Like, if he hadn’t stopped you?” Wren asked as Sarah laid her head back in her lap, picking at her black nail polish. “Years ago, I would have never even expected you to hop onto the back of some stranger’s motorcycle, let alone get cozy with one in your bathroom.” She could see her reflection in Wren’s black-rimmed glasses as she peered over her, leaning against the headboard of Sarah’s bed in her pajamas and snacking on red licorice.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. That seems to be the trend right now.” Sarah sighed, dangling her foot over the edge of the bed and raising her opposite knee. “But if he hadn’t stopped me, I might have kissed him … that’s just the way I felt right then.”

“Look, I’m not saying I could blame you. The dude is as fine as summer wine, but—Sarah, this isn’t you. None of this is you. And you’re engaged.”

“I know all of that. And since when do you care? You hate Brent.”

Wren bit off another piece of the thick, red stick of cherry candy. “That’s an understatement. But the fact still remains, friend. I think we need to talk about it.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Sarah dropped her hands down to rest over her midsection and they both grew quiet as she spiraled into her thoughts. The detective hadn’t seemed inclined to stop himself from leaning in close to her neck. That seemed intimate enough without him then breathing on it, trying to ease the sting of the rubbing alcohol she’d foolishly dabbed on the stitches. It hadn’t been until she’d reached up to touch that sensuous mouth that he’d backed away and wigged out. It couldn’t have just been her own lack of judgment. Even when she’d said she was sorry, only a small part of her meant it. She was sorry, yes, for overstepping her bounds … but not at all sorry that, for whatever reason, she wanted that man so badly right then that she could have leapt on him and never let him back up for air. Why was that such a bad thing? People have one-night stands with strangers all the time, don’t they?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Wren mused; a knowing smirk slashed across the side of her mouth as she chewed mercilessly on her snack. Sarah made a face up at her.

“I don’t know how you eat that shit, Wren. It’s disgusting.”

“No. What’s disgusting is everyone’s lack of respect for the value of old candy. People back in the day really knew their shit. I’ll die on that hill.”

Footsteps sounded up the stairs and they both turned their heads toward the door. They were followed by a firm knock. “It’s open!” Sarah called. Brent peeked inside and before she could think about it, her eyes rolled, and his expression drooped. He saw it.

“I would ask if I should come back later, but …” He shrugged.

“You could have called,” Sarah drawled back, raising from Wren’s lap. Brent looked as if he could snap. The door shut forcefully behind him.

“I did call, Sarah. All day. We need to talk …alone.” His eyes flickered to Wren, who oddly enough, said nothing in response.

“She’s staying the night. You know, cause she’s nottoo goodto be seen in this part of the city. I couldn’t have asked that of you since you’re too busy to know what’s going on, and too rich to sleep next to me in this apartment until morning.” Sarah’s tone cut like a blade.

“Sarah …” Wren placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m gonna walk up to the store up the street.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“No, I do. I’m almost out of licorice.” Wren winked, sliding off the side of the bed. She slid her feet into Sarah’s boots and pulled a sweatshirt over her head. “You want anything while I’m out?”

“Cigarettes … please.”

“You got it, boss.” She tiptoed around Brent, who slid out of the way and then clonked down the steps as the door closed. There was a long, empty silence between them as they looked at each other.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Brent finally asked.

“Typically, that’s a message on its own, Brent.”

He was quiet for another long moment and then crossed his arms and stared at the floor. “How did we get here, Sarah?” She crossed her legs beneath her and didn’t answer. Another thing she didn’t know how to explain. Did he do anything? No. But wasn’t that the issue? “Is this because I left the bar that night?”

“That’s most of it,” she said simply.

“Sarah, nobody feels worse than I do about what happened, but I’ve been here. I’ve been right here … every day and all you want me to do is leave. Shit, that’s all you wanted me to do the night you were attacked. I didn’t attack you! I’m innocent, at least on that front.”

“Nobody’s innocent, Brent.” She watched his face go pale. It was clear he was hiding something, but then again … so was she. “Which one of us is gonna go first?”

“Well … I’m notcheatingon you if that’s what you’re implying.” Oh, he was fishing. There was definitely something.

“Your tone suggests that you think I would,” Sarah argued.

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