Page 189 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

Now Lindsey would think I’d come here to do damage control, when the truth was I’d been pissed at myself for shutting her out for that last little while before she left. I didn’t want to miss her. Didn’t want to care.

But here we were, and she’d just gotten done belting out an incredible song about what an asshole I was. I’d bet good money it hadn’t been on the setlist before tonight either.

Poison? Yeah, I was. Undoubtedly. It didn’t stop me from loving her. From being absolutely dazzled by her performance. Every song was a revelation. Even the ones meant to give me a big old middle finger.

Nothing she’d said had been a lie. But the part about her having no escape…

I should tell her she was wrong.

That I’d let her go.

I could be that magnanimous. If she wanted to be free, I wouldn’t stand in her way.

I just didn’t know if I could physically stay away. She was a bulb in the dark and I was drawn to her inexorably.

To her detriment perhaps.

Despite my recent addition to the all access pass list, my late entrance had left me closer to the back of the VIP section than the front. Fine by me. I didn’t want her to know I was there. Standing in the crowd, hearing their screams, feeling their energy waft over me like a palpable wave.

All of them focused on the woman who’d hijacked my life in the best possible way.

Her bandmates were all part of the whole too. Each of them was supremely talented as well. But Lindsey was the jewel in their crown.

At the end of the concert, I pushed through the teeming audience still riding the high from her music, her voice, her very presence. The crowd made me want to search for the nearest exit. I hated this kind of scene now. Too many people. Too much activity. Too many prying eyes.

I craved the cool silence of my flat with a fierceness that surprised even me.

Fighting my own instinct to flee, I made my way to the green room backstage. I was directed to her dressing room, where I waited in the unlit space that smelled of orchids and jasmine and things that bloomed in the darkness.

Like me. God knows I didn’t know if I was blooming yet, but I was much closer to alive than dead now.

Solely because of her.

The door flew open, the knob hitting the opposite wall. She streaked into the room, a blinding ray of silver even in the dark. What there was of her costume could have illuminated a tunnel. Her hair glistened as she whirled, cursing as she fumbled for the light switch.

And like a cat, I sprung out of the shadows and covered her mouth with my hand, hauling her back against me. My other hand lightly cupped her throat, my signature move with her. The one she loved.

I thought she would know. Would realize it was me. And yes, she’d be pissed, so this way she wouldn’t scream and draw security before I’d even had a chance to explain.

She fought like a wildcat, stomping down on my foot with a fervor that could’ve snapped my little toe. I stumbled back, my spine hitting the opposite wall as she flipped on the inadequate row of lights around the dressing table mirror and stared at me as if I was a stranger.

One to be feared at that.

She spun away but not before I glimpsed the wash of tears in her crystal blue eyes. Tears that ripped into me like tiny shards of glass.

“Duchess.” My voice was hoarse. “I can explain.”

“Really? Can you explain lurking in here like a damn stalker? Can you explain grabbing me in the darkness as if you were about to end my life?”

“Oh, Christ. Fuck. I didn’t think of it that way.” I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “I didn’t think, obviously. I thought you’d recognize my touch—”

“Maybe I would have, had I been expecting you. Had the room not been in total darkness. I can smell you now.” She let out a sob and pressed her fists to her mouth, shaking her head. “Now I know it’s you.”

“I would never hurt you.” Even as I stepped forward, as the words tumbled free, she reeled back as if I’d struck her.

I had. Just not with my hand.

Knowing full well she’d probably push me back, I wrapped her in my arms, drawing her against me. She fought as expected, landing blows that hurt enough to leave bruises. I took them and her tears, flying loose to hit my cheeks as if they were mine too. In a way, they were. I just wasn’t brave enough to cry them.

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