Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
The mayor shuffles away from the dais and in the space of a single blink, Lyra whips around, looking between me and Hunter. Her jaw is set in stone, her green stare icy and cold. “Dead to me,” she tells us both, glaring at us with such a lethalness that it has my balls crawling back up inside my body. And with that, she turns on her heel and stalks out of the hall.
Hunter and I scramble after her, and just as we leave, we hear the woman with the big mouth scoffing at Lyra’s back. My hands ball into fists, anger bubbling below the surface.
I step in closer to Hunter, our shoulders brushing as we slip out into the night. “We can’t kill her,” I say, her face already committed to memory.
“I know.”
“Not after what just happened. They’d think it was Lyra.”
“I know.”
“Fuck.”
Hunter glances up ahead to where Lyra stands by the passenger door of his Challenger, before glancing back at me, his lips twisting with a wicked smirk. “That doesn’t mean we can’t fuck with her though.”
I grin right back. “Ahhh, nothing quite like sweet justice.”
Lyra glances back at us, her gaze narrowed. “What are you two idiots talking about?”
I walk up to her and press a kiss to her temple as Hunter unlocks the car. “Nothing, Savage. Nothing at all.”
23
LYRA
The curfew can kiss my ass.
Black Velvet is dead. Not dead dead. Not my apartment after Maddox got his hands on it dead. But it might as well be.
The curfew officially kicks in at ten, which means nobody wants to start a night they can’t finish. The usual crowd has vanished. The dance floor is basically empty. The booths sit abandoned. And even the music sounds depressing. We haven’t been this quiet since . . . well, ever.
I wipe down the bar for what feels like the hundredth time and gaze at the handful of customers lingering over drinks.
This is ridiculous. We didn’t even get to perform “Toxic” tonight. Didn’t even get to give anybody the famous Velvet Slap. And this is supposed to go on for a whole month. The city might as well burn the bar to the ground. At least then people would have a good reason not to enjoy their nights here.
You can’t exactly own a bar and tell people they need to be tucked safely into bed before the streetlights come on. It’s heartbreaking. Even the restaurants across the road have been closing up shop early. They don’t usually stay open as late as I do, especially on Friday and Saturday nights, but locking up this early is laughable.
Across the bar, Hunter and Maddox sit on stools nursing drinks while watching me work. Or rather, Hunter watches me work. Maddox watches me like I’m a nature documentary, and it’s more than unsettling.
I shut off the neon lights that line the bar and glare at Maddox. “What?” I ask, more than aware that I’m hitting him with all the attitude my body is capable of, but that seems to be a new personality trait that has stuck around since the conclusion of the meeting a few days ago.
Maddox grins, and it makes me want to strangle him. “Nothing.”
God, I hate him. And by hate him, I think I actually mean love him. Like so badly it’s ruining my life. Shit, it might not just be him I’m falling for. It might be both of them, and surely that’s not fair to either of them. Am I supposed to choose at some point? Or is there some magical land where they will just be happy living as we are, letting me love them both?
My shoulders slump, and I fight the smile that tears across my lips. “Liar.”
Maddox laughs and gets up from the stool, striding over to where I stand before leaning across the bar and grabbing me by the base of my throat. He pulls me in, those wicked bedroom eyes seeming to ravage me as he holds me hostage in his stare. “Have I ever told you how fucking sexy you are when you’re angry?”
Butterflies immediately swarm through my stomach, raining hell over my nervous system, and then just like that, I don’t mind the idea of every last person in this building suddenly walking out. At least that way I’ll be able to fuck him over my bar. And judging by the way Hunter is watching us, maybe I could take them both. Gotta love a two for one deal.
I suppose this curfew might have a few perks after all.
The internal reminder of the curfew has my mood crashing back down, and I pull back from Maddox as my shoulders slump. “Don’t try and make me swoon,” I tell him, tossing the bar rag at his chest. “I’m trying to wallow in my self-pity.”