Page 50 of Lost Lyrebird
She genuinely wants to help every woman here.
So when I spot her leaning against the wall down the hallway, fidgeting and staring hard at Finn’s closed office door, I move toward her.The fact that she doesn’t look over at the raucous laughter from the girls leaving the dressroom is telling, because Raven catches everything.
“Hey.Are you okay?”
She glances my way, forcing a smile.“Yeah.Everything’s good.”
“You sure?”
“You did great tonight, Lily.Really.”Her voice sounds flat, though, like she’s distracted.
A low rumble of male voices filters through Finn’s door and draws my attention.A lightbulb flicks on in my brain and slowly, I connect the dots.Anxiety flutters in my chest.The memory of what the girls in the dressing room discussed earlier resurfaces.
Nose bleed.
So much blood.
Did you see his shirt?
A headache.
Yeah, but that looked like a pretty bad one.
At the time, I thought they were discussing a patron.It didn’t click until now.It should have, but I’d been riding the high of my routine.
“Is Finn okay?I heard the girls talking about what happened, but I thought they were talking about a client.”
Finn’s medical details, which Deeds shared, are sitting in my inbox.My persistent avoidance of knowing more about his past, because it would be like tearing duct tape off a festering wound, is biting me in the ass right now.
Before she can answer me, Andre calls from the back door.“Raven, he just pulled in.”Raven’s shoulders sag with relief.
Andre holds the back door open, and a young guy rushes in a second later.A few ladies in the hallway, and he veers left to avoid them.When they’re out the door, he strides to Raven.
He breezes past me as if I don’t exist.
He’s a handsome kid, late teens, with olive skin, dark hair, and a few freckles on his nose.Judging by his style—black gauges in his ears, beaded wrist bands, and a charcoal graphic tee—I get the sense he has a rebellious soul.That, and the half dozen tattoos he’s sporting.There’s a large one on his forearm of a reaper standing over a black coffin.Another prominent one on his neck is of a finely drawn skull with laurel leaves curling up one side of its head and down the other.An hourglass spilling sand, and the image of two hands reaching from opposite ends toward each other, rests beside it.The words “Tempus Fugit” and “Memento Mori” are inked around the design.
He’s flustered and asks, “Is he alright?”There’s a slight Hispanic lilt to his words.
“Yeah.Did you find them?”Raven asks.
He pulls out a bottle of pills from his jeans and places them in Raven’s hand.
“Thanks, Mattie.You’re a lifesaver.”
He nods and shoves his hands back into his pockets.His shoulders rise and tilt forward.
“You should probably get home before he finds out I let you inside the club.”
The kid hesitates, eyes flicking toward Finn’s door with trepidation.
“He’s okay.I promise.Just a bad one.We’ll get him fixed up.”
He stares at her for a long moment, then sighs in defeat, and his shoulders fall.“Just text me and let me know if they work, alright?”
She lightly pats his arm.“I will.”
His gaze falls on me for a moment as he turns to leave.No greeting whatsoever.If anything, he drills those deep brown irises into me as if daring me to utter a word.I don’t, but I do meet his stare head-on.We keep eye contact until he’s past my line of vision, and it’s weird, because for some odd reason, I get the feeling I just had a duel of wills with this kid.I might not have won, but I didn’t let him win either.
