Page 11 of Lost in Life

Twisting my head so he can hear me, I warn, “You have thirty seconds to remove your hands from me.”

The bastard laughs, tightening his hold. “Or what, princess?”

My irritation grows, but I’m a person of my word. “Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…” I continue my countdown, making the man laugh again.

As the numbers continue to lower, I slip my hand into my pocket, pulling out my pocket knife. “Five, four, three, two, one…” I flick open the blade, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Zero.” Plunging the knife into his thigh, I’m granted with the satisfying cry as he releases me to cover the wound.

I slip away from the blubbering fool, muttering under my breath, “I warned you.” A sigh escapes me as I head toward the exit.

I really wanted to dance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a ghost. Someone I thought I’d never see again. Dirty blonde hair gelled back that once formed a fauxhawk. Familiar piercings covering his face. Eyes the color of honey meet mine, widening as recognition crosses his face.

I stumble into someone, catching myself with a mumbled apology. When I look back, he’s gone.

My heart breaks all over again, tears threaten to fall as the sight of the boy I once loved brings back a flood of memories. Along with it an overwhelming desire. Not only has his hairstyle changed, he’s packed on quite a bit of muscle. I could see the strain of his shirt trying to contain his new muscular frame.

The boy from my past has returned to haunt me once more, and now he has infuriatingly become the man of my dreams.

No more running, West. I’m going to find you, and this timeI’mgoing to be the one to breakyourheart.

Exiting the bar, I inhale the chilly night air, embracing the cold. The sting a welcome accompaniment to the pain in my heart.

Pulling my cell phone out, I make a call, holding the phone up to my ear. “I need a favor.”

West

They’re magnificent.

I haven’t stopped thinking of Nova all the years I’ve been gone, no matter how badly I tried to push them out of my mind. My memories don’t do justice to the stunning human before me now.

Their once golden brown hair is now an eye-catching, bright, reddish purple. Partially shaved on one side, a braid hanging over the cropped section. My eyes scan over their face, noticing several piercings in addition to the small nose ring they once sported, an eyebrow and Medusa piercing now joining the nose ring. Both ears are pierced along the lobe up to the helix, an industrial piercing on the side of their shaved hair.

Nova has always been beautiful, but now there’s a fierceness joining the beauty. I watch them stumble into someone and take the opportunity to bolt like the coward I am.

Life has not been easy for me since leaving that church. I’ve had to learn how to protect myself and that’s what I’m doing now, because I know if I were to let Nova back into my life it would only end in more tears. I’ve damaged us beyond a hope of repair and, no matter how desperately I wanted to run to them and wrap them up in my arms, I can’t do that. I can’t hurt them. Not again.

Slipping out the back exit, I sling my leg over my motorcycle, shoving the helmet onto my head.

The worst part about the whole encounter was knowing it’s their birthday today. The day I always made special for them, the day I could lower my guard a bit and show some of my real feelings.

Speeding away from my best friend and love of my life, I wish I could take it all back, change the decisions my younger self made. But it’s not possible, and even if by some miracle I could, I know now that every miracle comes with a price I’m not willing to pay.

So I’ll return to my empty home and drown my sorrows in the cheap vodka I have stashed away. Nova is better off without me anyway.

“You’re late.”

I duck my head, wringing my hands as I shuffle into the empty bar. Club Vixen always looks so different in the daylight without the ambient lighting and copious amounts of alcohol.

Snapping his fingers, Rex draws my attention back to him. “Get over here, jailbait.”

I flinch at the term, Rex’s favorite nickname for me since I was sprung a few months ago. It wouldn’t do any good to tell him that it doesn’t mean what he thinks it does. If anything, it would just make him use the term more.

He smirks, knowing the effect it has on me.

While I never experienced some of the more horrific things the name is meant to imply, my prison sentence was far from easy.

My fingers drift absentmindedly to the scar on my side, one of my many such reminders of the pain I endured during my lockup. Standing awkwardly beside the booth, I wait for him to tell me what this is about.

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