Page 15 of Whirlwind

But right now I had to get the hell out of here.

7

Beck

I saton my Harley in the jammed parking lot, the engine running. The great big pink and yellow neon sign sparkled overhead, buzzing in the cool Black Hills night.

The Tingle.

I ground my teeth. A strip joint was not where I wanted to be tonight, but Wes had insisted. I knew he was sleeping with a dancer here. If I hadn’t been in the mood for a fast and hard ride on my bike, I would have turned him down.

Being alone for days at my mom’s house in this small town had been a shock to my system. The timing had been perfect as my step dad had taken Mom on a trip to Costa Rica for their anniversary.

I’d been enjoying the quiet, the aloneness, the anonymity. No questions, no conversation. No nothing. Bottles of vodka all to myself. A good detox from noise, demands, expectations, schedules, but yeah, okay, I’d begun to get edgy, antsy. Wes’s call had come at a good time. Since I’d been here, I hadn’t hung out with him yet, and I’d already be returning to L.A. tomorrow.

Returning to L.A.

I didn’t want to think about that. I’d enjoyed being in a no man’s zone here in Meager on my own.

Wes was late. I let out a heavy breath as a huge crowd clustered around the entryway of the nightclub. Was it two for one night? Discounted lap dances? That heaviness in my chest that had become my new normal dragged my heart down even lower, tightening it.

“There you are!” A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I flinched. Wes. His dark hair had gotten longer, and he must be working out because he’d gotten bigger.

“Hey!” We hugged, clapping each other on the back. “Good to see you.”

“You too.” We tagged hands.

“You good?” His head slanted at me. “You look…”

“Like shit, I know,” I muttered, my gaze shifting back to the crowd.

“Never seen you so scruffy.” He chuckled, a hand squeezing my shoulder. “Get off your hot bike, hot guy. Let’s go. Fun awaits.”

Fun.My insides tightened like a screw in a square peg. Crowds. Women. Drinking. People recognizing me. “I don’t think I’m up for this, man—”

“Nope, you promised. Come on. You’re leaving tomorrow, this is our big night.”

A shout went up in the crowd. A woman pushed out of the club like the devil himself was chasing her. No. More like she was chasing the devil. She cut through the thick mass of people, jaw tight, long hair flying around her face, eyes gleaming. I knew those eyes. I hadn’t forgotten those eyes since that night years ago in a dark hallway at Pete’s.

Violet.

She disappeared from view, and the crowd suddenly thickened. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I got off my bike.

Last time I’d seen Violet was a few years ago when I’d visited Meager to see my mom and she’d made lattes for me and Wes at her mother’s coffee shop, bringing them to us at our table with a quick hello, how’s it going. I’d wanted to ask her why she hadn’t been at my mom’s wedding, but I didn’t get the chance. The place was jammed and she was busy.

The time before that was when I’d come to town and ended up playing my mom a song I’d written for her at the local bar, and then Violet and I had bumped into each other in the back hallway and had an amazing conversation.

And then I’d kissed her.

Totally impulsive, maybe careless, but I hadn’t cared. Sparks had flown between us in that dark hallway that had lit up my soul. Not just a physical attraction, but some kind of vibrant emotional connection, a mutual understanding, an electric excitement. I hadn’t known what it was, but it had felt so good, so right, I’d only wanted more. I’d only wanted to capture it—feel it, swallow it, taste it—in that moment. And I think so had she.

And we had.

That Violet had been on edge.

“Get the fuck away from me!” her voice rose now in the crowd. A full throttle demand.

This Violet was on fire.

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