Page 43 of Lies Like Love

Maren goes back to her movie, and I eat my leftovers standing at the counter in silence. I hate him. I really do. So why am I starting to feel it less and less?

By the time Maren changes and leaves for fight night, I decide I’ve waited long enough and make my way downtown. What used to scare me is starting to feel familiar, and a world I shouldn’t feel comfortable in is all too welcoming.

It’s late. Most of the shops on the street are closed, and I realize I should have just taken Maren up on her offer to float my portion of the rent for a day because nothing good comes from wandering downtown in the middle of the night.

When the shop finally comes into view up ahead, I breathe a sigh of relief that I actually made it. But my stomach plummets just as quickly at the closed sign flashing in the window.

Stopping in front of it, I peek through the skeletons for any signs of life inside. But no luck, it’s dark.

Téa is the worst receptionist on the planet. She knew I was coming by late and didn’t say they were closing early tonight.

Turning to walk away, a body presses close behind me, setting the hair on the back of my neck on its ends. My skin prickles, and every warning Jude has issued races to the forefront of my thoughts.

“Lost, sweetie?” The unfamiliar voice snaps my shoulders back. “If you need help getting home, I’d be happy to offer my services.”

13

Jude

Thestreetsarebusyin this part of downtown. Doesn’t matter what time of night it is. It’s suffocating.

I need some space—a drink, a joint. I need to get out of my head because all I see every time I blink this past week are Dad’s cold eyes staring back at me.

What he said when I visited him in prison a couple of weeks ago has been playing on repeat. Puzzle pieces trying to click together when they don’t quite fit. And I can’t help but feel like Fel walking back into my life wasn’t a coincidence as I originally thought.

It was easy to avoid her for eleven years, and now suddenly she’s everywhere. I’m not sure why or how, but each day that passes convinces me more and more that something bigger is at play.

Her grandparents are only giving her space as part of some larger plan. It makes me wonder what that plan is. And what do I have to do with it? If anything.

Seeing her again feels like punishment for what I’ve done. It was hard enough walking away the first time. But to have to face her almost daily and continue to only let her see the darkness in me that will scare her away is nearly impossible.

It’s why I left, why I stayed away, why I need her gone. Either that or maybe she’ll fall so far I’ll ruin her to the point they won’t want her back.

Then she’ll be mine like she was always meant to be.

It’s a dangerous thought.

Rounding the corner, I park my car in a free spot in the lot near the shop. Twisted Roses is dark and it’s a relief. If I’m lucky, Sage will be out with Téa so I can fall into bed—or oblivion—without having to explain why I can’t stay out of my head lately. I’m not in the mood to deal with anyone else right now.

But as I approach the shop, two figures in the alley between the parlor and the club next door become clearer, and my throat tightens.

One of the two figures closes in on the other and my pulse thunders behind my eyes. Adrenaline racing as I quicken my pace.

“Just let me go.” The desperation in her voice as I approach makes my patience snap.

A guy has Fel cornered against the building, and when she tries to step to the side, he wraps a hand around her throat and pushes her into a wall. Her eyes widen with the kind of fear that makes me see red.

Tunnel vision.

The buildings around me vaporize until there’s only me, him, her, and what I have to do to protect the only thing in this world worth keeping whole.

“Hey.” I grab his wrist and land a punch on the side of his face at the same time, which forces him to release his grip on Fel’s throat.

She chokes out a cough, and it fuels the rage ripping through me as her breath stutters.

I push the guy up against the brick wall beside her so hard the back of his head slams against it, and his eyes get hazy. But it doesn’t stop me from slamming my fist into his face again.

He fucking touched her. Took away her air like he deserved it. Like it washis.

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