Light Unshaken (Unveiled #2) (6 page)

chapter nine

Eclipsed

I glanced up from my desk toward the sunset sneaking through the office’s front window. The same cluster of guys A. J. and I’d seen weeks ago guarded the street corner across from the center like a pack of dogs defending their territory. The tallest one stared right at me. His expression tore through the window and held my lungs in a vice grip against my chair.

“Emma.”

My knees clanked into the bottom of my drawer. Biting back the pain, I turned right as Trey unhooked his jacket from the coat stand in the entryway.

“I’m really sorry I have to dip out early. More paperwork to sign.” He kept his tone light, but the burden of his divorce wore through.

My heart ached for him. I tucked the voicemail messages I’d written down earlier under my keyboard. He didn’t need to deal with bill collectors right now.

“As much as my attorney’s charging by the hour, you’d think he could get it all done in one shot.” He pressed down his coat collar. “You know the difference between a lawyer and a mosquito?”

I cocked my chin. “Same thing as the last five times you told this joke?”

He laughed his husky laugh. “Still true. I’m tellin’ ya, they’ll suck the life out of you.” He jostled his keys from his pocket. “You sure you’re good with closing up?”

“Yep.” I stole another glance behind me toward the window. No sign of the earlier loiterers. Nothing but a few pieces of loose trash blowing down the vacant street.

I ruffled through a pile of outstanding bills on my desk. “I just have this last stack of invoices to key, and then I’ll be heading out myself.”

A. J. stood on the outskirts of the room near the back door with his focus glued to his Nikes.

Trey looked from him to me and cleared his throat. I hadn’t expected A. J. to stay this long. I wasn’t about to ask him to stay after everyone else left.

Trey must’ve sensed my hesitation and apparently had no qualms speaking up for me. “A. J., you mind sticking around until Emma locks up?”

He raised his head, a toy soldier coming to life from a wooden pose. “I’m happy to stay and walk you to your car, Emma.”

I saw his lips move. Knew it was A. J.’s voice, but it sounded wrong. Too formal. Too obligatory. For his sake, I wanted to pretend I’d be fine on my own. Even more, I wished Riley were here instead.

A. J. blinked away from the death stare Trey had honed in on him. “I should probably stick around anyway. Clean up the court a little. Prep for next week.”

“All right, then.” Trey tucked on his leather Newsboy cap. “Time for me to hit the road before my lawyer finds another way to prey on my wallet.” Feigning a look of horror, he hummed the
Jaws
theme on his way out.

Always a joker.

Still smiling, I rested my arms over the papers and faced A. J. “Thanks for staying. And for coming today. Taking time out to ball with the kids meant a lot to them.”

They already adored him. I saw it as soon as I got in—a huddle of boys soaking up his pointers as if he’d been handing out twenty-dollar bills. One glimpse of their connection was enough to confirm he belonged here. My heart swelled with hope. For them. For the center.

“It was fun.” Though honest, A. J.’s short-lived smile couldn’t overthrow the detached look in his eyes. He shuffled in place, hands in his pockets, visible tension plaguing him now that we were together. Alone. Again.

He stopped over the threshold leading to the basketball court. “I’ll be out back. Holler when you’re ready to go.”

Even if we couldn’t be as close as we were before, I’d hoped working together might at least bring the camaraderie back. Lessen the heated tension.

The door shut behind him with the obvious answer.

Stillness settled across all four corners of the office. It seemed darker than it had a minute ago. I clicked on my desk lamp and restricted my vision to the 3x2 foot space on my desk.
Focus on why you’re here.

A steady stream of data entry kept me busy, despite the lull of my computer’s fan drawing my eyelids shut. Sometime between finishing one stack of bills and preparing another one for tomorrow, the night had absorbed the last slivers of daylight. I stretched my neck from side to side. It had to be close to when Riley said he’d call. I checked the clock.
Five after nine? Shoot. Don’t tell me I missed him.

I clicked on my cell. The screen stayed black. I clicked it again. Nothing.
Are you kidding me?
I scoured through my desk drawers for a charger. Of course not. Just perfect.

Purse in hand, I rose from my desk and glanced out the window toward the darkened street. Still empty.

I stopped to peek out the back door. No sight of A. J. either. “I’m running to my car for a sec,” I called anyway.

A muffled, “okay,” trailed back, probably from inside the utility closet.

I made sure the front light was on before stepping foot outside. The bulb’s static charge echoed the buzz of insect wings fluttering around it. A quick glimpse down the bricks on either side of the doorway confirmed all was clear.

I gained ground on the end of the walkway. A coarse rustling followed a shadow flickering in the streetlight. Clinching my purse strap with both hands, I forced in a breath and crept around the building into a gust of wind.

Something flew straight at me. My heart leaped far enough up my throat to block my scream from escaping. Arms flailing, I fended off the object until it fell to the ground, defeated.

I shoved my mangled hair away from my face and let out a deflated huff. A foil hamburger wrapper. Wow. Some menacing enemy. Another burst of wind swept it past my feet down the street. Good thing I hadn’t run to get A. J. He’d be laughing it up right now.

Shaking it off, I unlocked Riley’s car, climbed over the driver’s seat, and grabbed the charger from the glove box. I slipped it into my purse while hustling back. If I didn’t get to talk to Riley until tomorrow because of this, I’d—

The pavement gripped my shoes halfway across the street. Two faces emerged from the shadows, their expressions perversely intoxicated at the thrill of catching me off guard. An instant and paralyzing fear stalked up my body.

I stayed frozen, unable to utter a cry for help. No breath. No sound. Just the heat of panic throbbing through my veins.

The tallest guy advanced straight for me with a smile taunting me to try to outrun him. A stocky one flanked his left side at a lag.

Riley’s keys dug into my palm, his absence cutting deeper.

I stumbled backward with nowhere to run, no way to steady my heart rate. My pulse out-thundered the crude banter rebounding from guy to guy closing in on me. I yelled for A. J., even if he couldn’t hear me.

My heels scraped into the brick wall. I couldn’t wait for him. My mind raced. The fog rising off the pavement clouded any memory of the self-defense class I took two years ago.

The guy closest to me made the first move.

Adrenaline surged. My reflexes kicked in. I stomped the assailant’s foot, bent his arm backward, and maneuvered out of his hold. I kneed the second one in the groin and sprang for Riley’s car. Someone yanked my arms and pushed me into the wall.

My hope of escaping crashed onto the concrete with the contents of my purse.

The tall one straightened, still wheezing from my knee’s impact. He stormed up to me. Hot, cigarette-tainted breath poured into my face and onto the ring of sweat soaking the top of my shirt.

“A. J,” I screamed again.

A hand covered my mouth and shoved the back of my head harder into the bricks.

“T, let’s bail,” a third kid called from a significant distance behind the other two.

The apparent leader jetted around with a clenched fist in the air. “Go up to Twenty-Third Street, and make sure we don’t get no unexpected guests.” His voice held authority. The kind I doubted anyone in his crew would test.

Staring at me, the kid didn’t move at first. The look on his face blended into the darkness stretching behind him. My eyes screamed for him to intervene.

“Dee!” the leader shouted this time.

The kid flinched. Without a word, he jogged backward, turned, and ran in the opposite direction. Away from the center and away from his chance to help me.

The leader grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. The intent in his gaze seeped through my clothes and crawled over my skin. One flex of power, and he could rob Riley and me of everything we’d been saving for each other.

Tears burned.

His dark eyes smoldered above a sinister smirk. Glancing at his friend, he ran his finger under my necklace. “Looks like senorita gots more than one pearl to give us.”

I spit in his face with all the vehemence I had in me. Seething, he wiped his cheek with his sleeve. I tried to break free, but he blocked my arms. The corner of his ring cut into my chin and ignited another scream for help. He pounded my shoulders, crashing my whole body into the wall. I reached for the back of my head. The scene swirled. Coarse bricks scraped through my shirt as I slid down the building. Balance lost.

Consciousness drifted. A third figure emerged. Had that kid come back? Muffled voices trailed the hazy shapes scuffling around me. A wounded yelp followed a sharp
snap
. Someone dropped to the ground. Noises raged. Movements blurred. A second person fell a foot away.

In the darkness, it turned quiet. Too quiet.

Just as someone knelt in front of me, everything went black.

chapter TeN

Broken

My body, limp and weighted, hung above someone’s footsteps. My lashes fluttered open. Tops of buildings swayed from side to side next to the clouds. A wave of nausea pulled my eyes shut. I tightened my clasp around my carrier’s shirt, no strength to resist.

He lowered me into a car and leaned over to fasten my seatbelt.

I pulled him close enough for his face to come into focus. “A. J.” Relief swelled. My hand slid from his cheek down his cotton shirt.

His chest rose and fell above a pounding heart. He lifted my hands from his body and set them in my lap. “You’re safe now. Try to be still. I’m getting you out of here.” Though his words soothed, his voice pulsed with adrenaline.

The driver’s door opened and closed. He shifted the car into gear and gunned it down the abandoned street. An interstate sign passed above us as he pulled out his cell.

“Who are you calling?”

“911—”

“No.” I tugged his arm and swatted his cell to the floorboard.

He glared. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t. Please.” My body shook with my voice. “We can’t.” My eyelids fell again, shutting out the blurred images of trees passing along the edge of the highway.

The car swerved into the right lane. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

I shook my head. “No. Just . . . just take me home.” I set a hand on his arm. “Please.”

He let out a hoarse exhale. His blinker snapped on, throttle picking up. He reached for his cell again.

“A. J.—”

“I’m just calling Trey. Somebody needs to go lock up the center.” He must’ve read the look of concern on my face. “Don’t worry. Those guys are long gone by now.”

Please be right.
I settled back into my seat. My eyes stayed shut until the car stopped moving. In front of my apartment, he unbuckled my seatbelt and helped me out of the car.

I pushed off the doorframe and stumbled to my feet. “I can make it to the door.”

He caught my elbow as I slanted to one side. “Don’t be so stubborn. If you won’t let me take you to a doctor, at least let me carry you inside.”

The distance from the curb to the door stretched farther than it should have. I nodded.

He lifted me in both arms into a source of safety I craved more than I realized. Warm, comforting, his muscles contracted under my back and legs each time he mounted another stair.

In my room, he drew back my covers and laid me on the mattress. Everything about him exuded strength. No wonder he didn’t have any problem taking down those two guys.

Had he been hurt at all? Before he could straighten, I grabbed his hand. He winced softly. “A. J., your knuckles.”

“It’s nothing.” He slipped his fingers out of mine and gently dabbed a tissue to my chin.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who’d been running on adrenaline. Now that it was beginning to drain, pain surged in its place. I steadied his hand, pulled the bloody tissue from my chin, and cupped the base of my neck.

His forehead pinched. “I’ll be right back.”

A minute later, he returned with a glass of water and a couple of pills. “Here.”

“Thanks.” I sat up to swallow the pain meds. A rush of lightheadedness passed but didn’t shut out flashes of the night replaying through my mind. I started to get out of bed. “My phone.”

A. J. eased me back down. “I got it.” He retrieved it from my purse and slipped it onto the charger next to my bed. Shaking his head, he smiled in a way that felt real for the first time in months as he swept a strand of knotted hair off my face. “Try to rest.”

He’d almost reached the bedroom door when I sat up again. “Wait,” I called. “Thank you. For not leaving me at the office alone tonight. I don’t know what would’ve happened . . .” I shuddered at the possibility.

He kept his back toward me and his hand over the light switch. His arm dropped to his side. Looking over his shoulder, A. J. smiled one last time and turned off the light.

The weight of my eyelids took over. For the second time that night, everything went black.

The morning brought a barrage of aching reminders of a night I wanted to forget. Fatigue tightened across my shoulders. Trying to sit up sent me right back down. Vague dreams of A. J. taking care of me gradually faded behind the light coming through the window until my clock blinked into focus.
11:00?

I threw back my covers and pulled my cell off the charger. No missed calls. Just a text from after midnight.

Sorry. Last minute rehearsal ran longer than I thought. Will call in the A.M.

Residual aches from last night didn’t compare to the pain of missing Riley. My thumb hovered over the Instagram app. The need to see his face overpowered any reservation about what else I might see.

He’d posted five new pictures. All from the recording studio. Behind the microphone, he came to life. Like he was made to be there. The band members huddling around him looked like old friends instead of new acquaintances. Same as the single girl in every picture.

If she was his manager, shouldn’t she be too busy to stay glued to his side? Or maybe that was what managers did. Protected their interest.

And maybe I needed another dose of pain pills more than I thought.

I grabbed my water, forced my legs over the side of the bed, and steadied myself against the chair until my vision caught up with my movement. I traipsed toward the kitchen, groping the wall as a buffer.

My feet skidded to a stop in front of the living room. Water from my cup splashed onto the front of my shirt.

A. J. stayed the night.

Fragments from what I thought had been a dream became clear now. He’d checked in on me each hour, probably afraid I had a concussion. A lump trekked up my throat.

Stretched out on the couch, his strength and stoicism lay transformed into a scene of serenity. One I didn’t want to disturb. Dust particles floated in rays of sunlight streaming through the blinds like laser beams to tiptoe over without triggering an alarm.

I kneeled beside him and studied his face. Thank God, it didn’t appear he’d been injured in the fight other than the scrapes on his knuckles. The stubble on his cheeks had surpassed a five o-clock shadow hours ago, but he’d lost his usual tension lines. If I woke him, they’d return the moment he realized he was still here. With me. Alone.

Unless something had changed.

I’d caught a glimpse of my friend in my room last night. Maybe I hadn’t lost him completely.

I rested my fingertips to his face. “A. J.,” I whispered, “it’s time to get up.”

He darted straight into the air and scanned the perimeter of the room as if a drill sergeant had awoken him in the middle of the night. It only took one look at his face to see boot camp would’ve been his preference. His cheeks matched the color of the much-too-short maroon blanket he’d pulled off the top of the couch last night.

He scratched his hair. “I meant to slip out before you woke up.”

I tottered to my feet and shuffled backward until my legs found the chair behind me. “Thanks for staying. That was really sweet of you.”

He tossed the throw pillows into their designated positions in either corner of the couch. “How are you feeling?”

I cradled the bottom of my head above my neck. “Nothing taking Advil for a few days won’t fix.”

“Good, good,” he said while striding toward the front door. He stopped, already on the other side of the entryway, and looked behind him. His eyes met mine. For the briefest moment, they were as genuine as they’d been last night. “We should file a police report.”

I met him at the door. “I’m not going to jeopardize our chance of getting funding. That’s probably exactly what those punks want. You’ve seen them on that street corner. Like they’ve been staking it out or something.” I tucked one arm under the other. “I don’t know what their personal vendetta is, but we can’t let them win.”

A tendon in his neck twitched. “This isn’t a game.”

“I know—”

“Do you?” His jaw pulled tight.

I gripped the door edge. Couldn’t he see I was trying to do the right thing for the center? We couldn’t afford any bad press right now.

Face softening, he started toward me but backed up instead. “I . . . I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He hustled down the staircase. The exit door opened and sent a draft soaring in his absence.

I locked up, sank into the corner of the couch, and balled one of the accent pillows in my lap. He’d only stayed because he was that kind of guy. I shouldn’t have thought—

A ring from my cell pulsed into the stillness.

“Good morning,” Riley said. “How’s my dance partner doing?”

His sweet voice washed over me and drained the tension back down. “Better now.” If I closed my eyes, I could nearly feel the security of his arms.

“Me too. Hearing your voice . . . God, I miss you, Em. Jake and I are about to pull a
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
stunt. I’m telling you, he snaps at my fingers if I even mention seeing you without him. I’m gonna have to get a tighter leash before January comes around. No way that dog’s getting kisses before I do.”

Our laughter triggered tears too close to the surface.

“Hey, you all right?”

Flashes from last night stormed in. I couldn’t tell him what happened. Couldn’t let him hear how shaken up I was. The last thing he needed was to feel guilty he hadn’t been there.

“I just miss you.” My voice cracked. Better to get him talking. “How are things there?”

“Amazing. I don’t know how I didn’t fall in love with Nashville the last time I lived here. You can hear live music from just about anywhere. The city holds this constant energy. Not sure how to explain it. It makes me feel . . .
alive
. You know what I mean?”

“Your voice kinda gives me a clue.”

“Sorry. It’s obnoxious, isn’t it?”

I drew swirls over the microfiber cushion with my fingertip. “No more than Trevor’s.”

“Oooh, now I know it’s bad. I’ll try to tone it down. It’s sort of hard to do here. Everything’s so . . . vibrant, I guess is the right word.”

“Better than being in Portland?”

His paused ached. “Just different.”

My throat tightened. I squeezed the throw pillow and clenched back emotions I had no right to feel. Not if I really loved him.

“Told you you’d thrive in every part of your career.” I lifted my glass of water to my forehead. “How’s the album coming?”

“I can’t wait for you to hear it. The quality is so much better than that demo I made. Jess and I’ve been working nonstop to make sure we get a few great singles out of it.”

“Jess?”

“My manager. I told you about her, remember?”

I downed the rest of my water and managed a garbled, “Mm hmm.”

“It’s a good thing one of us knows the ins and outs of the industry. I’d be lost without her. Half the time, I feel like I’m barely keeping up with it all. No wonder there’s a coffee shop at every intersection. Jaycee’d be in heaven.” He laughed, sounding like he’d already hit up five shops before he called. “Though, she might’ve met her match. Jess drinks the stuff around the clock. Black. I don’t know how she stomachs it.”

Probably didn’t, if the size of her waist in the pictures was any indication.

“If I have to keep up this crazy schedule too much longer, I might end up drinking mine black too.” A note of exhaustion seeped through his animation. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call last night. Nick pulled a last minute rehearsal. We were there half the night. I keep telling myself all the pressure will be worth it.” Another sigh. “Wish you could be here, Em.”

But I wasn’t there.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. If I opened my mouth, I’d shatter the flimsy blockade shielding Riley from the geyser of emotions building since last night. Not that staying quiet helped. My lingering pause sent a proverbial red flag soaring through the phone line.

“What is it?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.
“Nothing.” The angst from what happened probably had me overly emotional. “I’m just dealing with some stress from work.” My voice caught again.

“Do you need me to come back—?”

“No.” I couldn’t live with being the source of his regret if he gave up his dreams for me. Even if he didn’t think it’d be that much of a sacrifice now, he’d feel differently down the road. Clinching my arms over my stomach, I held the undone pieces inside.

“Break’s over, Preston,” someone in the background called.

“Just a sec,” he said away from the phone. “Sorry, Em. I gotta get back to rehearsal. We’ll talk more later, ‘kay? Love you.”

“I love you too.”

I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. With A. J. gone and Riley’s voice no longer nearby, the emptiness in the apartment closed in. I hugged my legs tighter and grasped for the courage the darkened street corner had swallowed last night. Whether or not I wanted to face it, the fight before me wasn’t over.