Page 72 of Muted

“I get it,” I say, even though I don’t like it. “My advice would be to make sure you communicate that to both of them.” I pause, then add, “And maybe steer clear of doing things at work when the other one is there. The last thing we need is relationship drama.”

Snatching her phone from my hand, she types something and then shoves it in my face, huffing out an annoyed breath.

‘Respectfully, you’re a dick.’

My eyes harden once again when I read the insult. I look away from the phone and jerk the shift stick into drive. Pulling out of the parking lot, I don’t respond to her comment. It pisses me off because she’s right and also being unreasonable.

I guide the car back onto the highway, only about ten minutes from her house, and grip the steering wheel. The car is silent as my knuckles turn white. I ignore her when she reaches for my phone and puts a song on.

Susu’s body language screams regret for what she wrote, her hands twisting together in her lap after she gently sets my phone back down.

I don’t pay attention to lyrics of the songs until I slam my hand against the turn signal to exit the highway. Furious at both me and her for how bad this evening turned out to be, I press the gas to end the drive.

Until she floors me once again.

Grabbing my phone, she restarts the song.

Susu’s lilting yet raspy voice whispers to me from the right when she sings along with the woman belting through my speakers. It’s a song of apology and regret for not saying the right thing and hurting the person they care about. I don’t look over at her as she continues to sing, but I can feel her eyes on me. She’s apologizing the only way she knows how right now, and it’s fucking tearing me apart.

My shoulders droop as her melodious voice washes over me and I let every single word she sings hit me as if they were her own words. When I pull up to the front of her building, I park the car more gently this time and turn to face her.

She doesn’t stop singing as the emotion filters from gaze and voice. All I can do is watch her and listen. When the song eventually ends, she gives me a self-deprecating smile before reaching down to grab her bag and release her seatbelt.

Placing a hand on her arm to stop her, I wait for her to meet my imploring gaze. I swallow harshly, then squeeze her arm gently before saying, “I’m sorry, too.” Nodding jerkily, she reaches for the door, but I tug her back so I can do it. Leaning my body forward, I open the door for her and then whisper, “Please stay safe and let me know how or if I can help you.”

She doesn’t respond, but she does pull away slowly to exit my car. I stay idling in front of her building until she unlocks the front door and slips inside.

But not before she glances back and holds her hand up in a sad goodbye.

Chapter 20

Detonate

Theo/Vance

Theo

The longer I sit on my stool at the entrance of Sonority, the more pissed off I get. Furious. Seething. Ready to fuckingfight.

I could give two shits about the way the men in the bar are lusting after my girl. Fuck all of them because there’s no chance in hell they’ll ever get the opportunity to know what she tastes like. What her soft sighs and moans feel like on their skin. But Vance?

Fuck him. I suspect he has an idea and I want to take him out back and beat the shit out of him.

They’ve been playing for the last two hours and the looks that keep passing between the two of them are infuriating. He can’t keep his goddamn eyes off of her.

Furiously texting Susu, I hit send, knowing that she won’t be able to respond right now, let alone read it. But it makes me feel better.

Me: I’m watching you play right now. Seems like Vance is more interested in watching you than providing entertainment for the bar. Do you need me to say something to him for you?

I pocket my phone when a new customer opens the door. It’s raining again tonight but added with the wind causes a mist to hit my arm and the side of my face every time the door opens.

Without taking my eyes off the woman that feels like mine, I hold my hand out for their ID.

“I’m not here for entertainment. Cliff around?” My upper lip curls in irritation that my attention is being directed away from the fuckery that’s happening on stage.

The guy waiting for me looks familiar, but I can’t place him. “Cliff’s not here,” I tell him, then focus back on the pair finishing their most recent song with a flair.

Applause explodes from the crowd as Vance leans forward to speak into his microphone but laughs because nobody is quieting down to hear him. The man next to me says something, but it’s too noisy to hear what he says.

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