Page 102 of Chasing Lyric
I can’t.
I’m watching a slow-motion train derailment, and I’m chained to the tracks.
Her hands don’t stop until the card’s in multiple pieces. Then she stuffs them deep into the gift basket like they’re toxic.
My breath catches as she rises, grips the basket, and storms toward the front door.
Dax and I drop instinctively, pressing ourselves deeper into the brush like two grown-ass men pretending they’re invisible. The twigs crack beneath my shoes as I flatten myself against the dirt, heart hammering so hard I swear it’s echoing off the side of her house.
She charges outside, yanks open the trash, and throws the basket in as if she’s launching a grenade. Not satisfied, she jams it down with both hands, her body shaking with fury.
“Good riddance. Take that, Chase, you lying scumbag!” The lid slams, and the sound hits like a slap to the face as she opens it up, then slams it again. I raise my brow at her obvious anger as she slams it a third time, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Ahhh!”
Flinching, my stomach hollows while the rest of me burns from the inside out. My ears ring with her words, her rage, and the sound of that lid closing like a coffin over everything I’d tried to say. My breath is stuck somewhere between a gasp and a growl, and my fists clench so tight my bones ache. Every instinct is telling me to run after her, to do something, but my legs won’t move.
Lyric throws her hands in the air in frustration, then spins and storms back inside, letting the door slam, and then, because apparently my ego wasn’t bruised enough, she pops the champagne and drinks straight from the bottle.
I squat by the side of her house, stunned. Physically and emotionally wrecked.
Beside me, Dax slaps a hand against my back, trying to offer some kind of comfort, but I barely register it. I turn toward him slowly, still crouched in the dirt, my head spinning and my pride bleeding out somewhere near her trash can.
My voice is hoarse when I find the strength to speak, “I should go talk to her.”
Dax raises a brow, like he can’t believe I still have fight left in me.
But I do.
I have more than enough fight.
Because when it comes to Lyric, even after that fiery display of‘screw you,’I’m not done.
Not even close.
Dax’s eyes widen. “No! Youdefinitelyshouldnot. Can’t you see the state she’s in? Going to her now would only make her hate you more. She needs to cool off, Chase. Nope. We need a new plan.”
I take another peek through her window to see her drowning her sorrows, and it sends an ache deep down inside of me. I hate that I’m the reason she’s drinking alone on her sofa, wallowing in misery.
Dax grabs my arm and starts pulling. “C’mon, man, let’s go back to your place. Hash this shit out.”
I glance over at Lyric, taking her in one last time.There’s nothing more I can do tonight.I just have to let her drown right now, and that cuts me deep.
“Okay, we can go back to mine. But Dax, I need a drink.”
“Yes. Alcohol, takeout, and we have to make another plan. We need to up the ante. It’s time for phase two.”
I steady my shoulders, checking back inside her living room.
Yes.
Time for phase two.
Chapter Twenty
CHASE
The Next Night
Working with Dax today felt like moving through fog. My body was there, but my head? Somewhere else entirely. He’s doing what he can, trying to strategize, throw lifelines, and map out the next phase like we’re in a war room.
