Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (42 page)

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Authors: A.C. Bextor

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BOOK: Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3
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Dad smiles back through his statement. “Cathy is a good person. She’s very kind.”

“You’re not interested in her in any other way? She’s kinda hot for an old person.”

Dad smiles with a hint of sadness. “There’s history there; let’s just leave it at that.”

Funny thing, history. We all have it. Some versions are more colorful and confusing than we’d like it to be. History that, although we won’t admit, makes us question the decisions of our future and leaves us regretful of our past. You can never forget or escape it—it’s a constant lesson that reminds you of where you’ve been and no matter what you do, you’ll never be that person again. If you’re lucky, you at least remember who you were during that period of time surrounding the memory, whether good or bad.

“I’m going to bed. I’ll crash here for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“Going to bed? It’s . . .” Dad checks his silver Rolex while giving it a smug grin, “seven-thirty in the morning. Have you not slept at all?”

There’s no point in lying. “No. Lacey and I hung out all night.”

“Be careful, Hayden,” Dad says in an accusing tone, one that matches Travis and Ace’s. “That’s his kid sister and he’s just met her.”

“Right,” I say, standing up, stretching and dismissing his insinuation. “Going to sleep. Talk to you later.”

CHAPTER SIX

Lacey

“FOUR EGGS OVER easy, bacon, wheat toast, and a large stack of pancakes. Coffee to drink.” The waitress, Maya, stares at Travis while he orders. He’s not paying any attention to her longing look of admiration for his handsome features. He’s my brother, and though it may be weird, I can appreciate the fact that he’s attractive.

“Jesus, Travis. Did you miss five meals?” I smile at Maya who stands bouncing from foot to foot, anxiously readying for an escape as soon as it’s available. “I’ll have white toast and a scrambled egg. Diet Coke.”

“What?” he feigns, handing the menu back to her and winking in her direction. She blushes immediately but grabs it from him and dashes off. “I’m a growing boy.”

“Growing out, maybe,” I return with my own smirk. “I like your friends,” I tell him as I unfold my napkin and adjust my silverware.

“They like you, too.”

“Bean’s a nut.”

“Sarah’s worse,” he admits.

“She likes Hayden.” I pause until he looks up at me from adjusting his own napkin. “Like, she likes him a lot.”

“You caught that, huh? She makes it less obvious now than she used to,” he says, taking a drink of our delivered coffee and looking at me over the rim. “She’s crushed on him since she was seven. No idea why.”

“He’s charming,” I state, then add for good measure, “and hot.”

“Don’t.” He holds his hand up, trying to keep me from saying more. “I know you and I just met, but still, you’re my sister and that’s fuckin’ gross.”

“Well, he is. I’m just saying I understand her attraction.”

“What the fuck
ever.

“She loves you, though,” I aim to soothe. “She may like to look at Hayden for his obvious attributes, but she loves you.” I wait for him to stop me again, but he doesn’t. “She trusts you.”

“She’s always been crazy. I feel bad for her. She’s lost in the mix of Ace’s life. She always has been.”

“I can see that.”

Taking another drink of his coffee, he sets it down while asking, “How’d your visit with Hayden go last night?”

How did it go?

After he kissed me, I refused to think about how good his lips felt on mine and pressed forward without delay. I enjoyed his company and ignored the thoughts of how having his hands on my face affected me. Along with how he touched me and how I felt the heat in his fingertips move my mouth to his.

“He’s funny.”

Hayden’s comment about me being young wasn’t completely untrue. I’ve only ever been
sexually
involved with two men. When I was sixteen, I lost my virginity to a boy who was just as inexperienced as I was and it ended up being a miserable encounter. Then I found Alec, and although he made it as good for me as he could, I knew there had to be something more out there. It wasn’t passionate or consuming; it was proficient and routine.

Travis places his hands together on the table and studies his calloused fingers. “He’s a lot of things I’d like to warn you about.”

“A big brother speech, huh? Do I need a paper and pen to take notes?”

His eyes meet mine in fury when faced with my sarcasm. I’ve found he doesn’t appreciate anything wise-ass. “You don’t know how he is with women, Lacey. He uses them and he knows it. He doesn’t mistreat them, but he
does
use them.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not sayin’ he’s a bad guy. If he were, he wouldn’t be my best friend. I’m only sayin’ this to you because you’ve just met him, and well . . . he’s Hayden.”

“He’s not interested in me like that,” I reassure him, even though I feel the lie as I say it.

If Hayden is who he and the others say he is, his attempts to flirt and seduce me last night could’ve led to more, had I let it.

“Well, thank fuck for that.”

After his comments about Hayden, our conversation fell silent. I wasn’t going to have a debate with Travis in a crowded restaurant. I didn’t mention to him that Hayden ended up staying all night and talking to me until dawn. I was fearful of his reaction when in fact I like Hayden; I can’t quite explain it but I feel protective of him against Travis’s description. Granted, spending the time over dinner watching him was effortless, but talking to Hayden was much more. He’s genuine and kind underneath that flirtatious guard; nothing I would’ve expected from a player like him.

“Are you nervous about starting the job tonight?”

“No, not really. It’s waiting tables.” I shrug, putting him at ease. Travis is still anxious, I can tell.

“I get that, but do me a favor and watch yourself. Stay close to Shelby and Mel.”

“Aye, aye, big brother.” I mock-salute and watch him sneer. It doesn’t take much to put him in a mood. I already know this, but continue to poke the bear when I can.

* * *

Tonight, The Ward is packed, even for a Monday. Normally, this has been named the slowest day of the week; however, tonight it’s anything but. The cause of the crowd is the weekday entertainment, band, Dragon’s Mansion. The lead singer, Sheridan Michaels is British. He told me this within the first few minutes of meeting me, as if I couldn’t hear it in his accent. I assumed this was supposed to impress me, but it didn’t.

According to him, he’s the next up-and-coming superstar of the United Kingdom.

His family moved here following his father’s job four years ago. He’s the stereotypical wannabe rock star: long blond hair, tall, lanky, and a lot suspicious. Women aren’t as drawn to him as they are Hayden, and there’s no way he doesn’t know this.

“He wants to buy you a beer after his set,” Shelby advises curtly, an unsaid warning against someone she finds difficult to tolerate. “I told the British ‘arse’ you were closing and wouldn’t have time.”

“He’s been at me most of the night.”

She rolls her eyes in despair. “I know. I saw that.” Then she more pointedly expresses, “He puts his hands on you again, you tell Mel. He’ll handle it.”

Mel, the owner of The Ward, is big and brawny. He’s like a father figure to his staff. His bald head, pierced ears, and tight wife-beater tee all coupled with his grouchy disposition don’t fool the women who work here. The staff know him to be cuddly and warm—until you piss him off. He’s not a fan of Sheridan and when Shelby caught him grabbing my ass as I passed his table, I noted she wasn’t a fan either.

“I will.” I answer her demand with certainty.

“Well, look at that.” She motions toward the door and I watch as Hayden makes his way through it, but he’s not alone. The woman at his side is blonde, tan, and from here any outsider would view them as a model couple.

I feel insignificant and small in her presence.

“He said he was stopping in.”

Shelby’s eyebrows furrow in a disbelieving thought. “On a weeknight?”

“Yeah, for my first night. He’s here to say hello.”

Before I can turn around to find where Hayden took his date, I feel hands on my shoulders and turn to look up to Sheridan. He’s half-drunk and his set is only half over. “So, you’re Travis’s kid sister, huh?”

“I’ve told you that.” I told him twice, actually, but obviously he wasn’t listening.

“Didn’t know he had one.”

“Well, he does,” I say, pointing to his group of friends. “I’ll get your table another round.”

“Have a drink with me tomorrow night.” I wasn’t expecting an invitation of any kind, only the mild attempt to pathetically flirt. He interprets my silence as acceptance. “Great.” With that, he pats my ass and walks away, leaving me standing alone at the bar as he makes his way back to his crowd of heathens. I eye-roll in response, knowing a reaction from me would spur him on.

Throughout the next hour, I’m on my feet jumping from bar drink pickup to tables. I’ve been waiting on tables for years so this isn’t a challenge; it’s mind-numbing and achingly monotonous.

Finally getting a break, I rest my body against the bar as I wait for Mel to make a new order for a group of crazy women who are celebrating someone’s office promotion. Shelby advised that the regulars generally order beer, which was my tell that these ladies don’t come in often. Daiquiris, margaritas, and shots all around for them.

“You look fucking hot in that shirt.” The seductive voice behind me causes my tired body to sway slightly while standing. Hayden’s front is pressed against my back and the heat from his breath on my neck is sending warm shivers up my spine.

“My shirt?” I look down, noting the prison-striped bar uniform we’re required to wear. “Do you have a fascination for women in black and white? Or is it the bad girl persona you think you’d like to have a go at?”

I hear him laugh softly as he moves my hair from my neck. “Can’t you just take the compliment? However, the idea of you in cuffs does do something for me.”

“Oh, God, more flirting. You’re awkward.”

Stepping to my side, he leans his elbows back on the bar and watches the crowd in front of him. Shelby sets a bottle of beer beside him and he accepts it on a wink. She winks back in thanks; a casual and familiar act between them.

He’s wearing another Henley; this one dark blue, contrasting the color of his eyes. The sleeves are rolled up near the elbow and the veins of his arms protrude in his position. The pendant is resting in its spot at the dip of his neck.

“Checking me out?” he asks in an offended tone. “I have a date here, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yuck, you’re so wrong.”

“Don’t think I am, Lacey.”

I sigh and start loading what Mel’s finished on my tray. “I gotta work and as much as I’d love to stand here
ogling
you, people are waiting.”

“People. Right.” After a few seconds of silence, that I spend
ogling
his mouth as it wraps around the bottle for a drink and his hand that curves around it with purpose, he looks at me with a serious expression. “I wonder what you’d taste like under my tongue. Or how loud you’d moan my name when you were done soaking the sheets with your climax.”

I widen my eyes in shock. “Oh, my God. You didn’t . . .”

Laughing, he moves his hand behind my neck and pulls the top of my body into him; my feet stay planted in shock. “I’m flirting, Lacey.”

“That flirt was well played, ’til you went too far with the sheets. Hayden,
no one
talks about soiled sheets,” I admit without breathing.

“You had it
coming.

“Oh, Jesus. You’ve got to stop while you’re ahead.” He smiles wide and I find myself grinning because I made him laugh. “Where’s your girl?” I ask, but hate myself for it when I notice his mischievous grin as he takes a drink.

“Bathroom. She needed to freshen up.”

“If you talked to her like you just talked to me, I’d say she needs a cold shower.”

“Cute, Lace.”

After enjoying a few seconds of quiet, Mel is nearly done with my tray. I grab the last drink and start to turn around, but Sheridan chooses now to ruin my momentum by showing up without invite. “Hayden, my man. How are you?”

I watch as Hayden’s entire disposition changes. His jaw tics with annoyance and he mutters, “Hey.”

“You met Lacey?” Sheridan asks him as though they’re old friends.

“Yes.” Hayden’s tone conveys he’s not only annoyed; he’s pissed.

Sheridan gets closer in my space and he’s tall enough I have to crane my neck to look up at him. “When you wanna have that drink?” he whispers loudly, ensuring Hayden heard him.

Before I can answer, I hear Hayden heavily set his bottle down on the bar then watch as he turns directly at us. “Seriously, Dan?”

Sheridan, who I now know goes by Dan, replies with a smug grin. “She agreed to a drink.”

“Enjoy that, Lacey.” Without further explanation, Hayden turns around and walks into the crowd without a second look.

* * *

Hayden

Walking away from Lacey as she stood at the bar speechless was a dick move. When Jenna called and asked if I had plans tonight, I wasn’t thinking when I told her I didn’t. I brought her here, as I normally would, but was looking forward more to seeing Lacey than taking Jenna on a ‘date.’

Jenna is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a relationship and what we have isn’t even close to one. We fuck on a regular basis, not because she’s good at that specifically but she’s less work than going and finding another girl to seduce. It’s a casual friendship. She doesn’t require more from me than I’m willing to give, and I don’t give a shit about sharing her.

Rather than head back to my table, I walk toward the back of the bar and find my exit. It’s a small place I go between sets to catch a breath. No one ever goes out there and after watching Lacey and Dan exchange conversation about plans they are making together, I need a breather.

I like Lacey. I genuinely enjoy talking to her. If she was willing to have sex with me, I wouldn’t turn her down. She’s hot. However, Dan Michaels is a fucking snake. He’ll use her as I would, but he’ll be a dick about it after. I hate that she’s talking to him; much more that she’s making plans to have a drink with him.

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