She lifts her shoulders. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. And he’ll keep giving it to her just to bury what he did. What scares me the most is what happens when there’s nothing left? When she’s taken everything from him, and there’s nothing else for him that will appease her?”
I watch as the door to the house opens, and my grandmother comes out with a warm smile on her face. But that smile melts away quickly when she sees Kylie and me inside of the SUV. Slowly, she backs up into the house, and the door closes behind her.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “It doesn’t matter if I stay away or not does it?”
“Him loving you puts a fire under her ass, but no, it doesn’t. She’s going to keep coming at him.”
Until there’s nothing left to give.
And how long will that take?
A year?
Another four years?
For the rest of Lucas’s life?
Reaching behind her seat, I grab my overnight bag and draw it up to the front of the car. “Thank you for coming to get me,” I whisper.
“Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”
“I know I am, but luckily, I like it.”
As I climb out of the Expedition, I give Kylie a worried onceover, my eyes stopping when they drop to her flat stomach. She looks down too. “Take care of yourself, Kylie. And tell Wyatt about the baby, will you? You’ll make his year.”
For the first time since she picked me up a half an hour ago, she offers me the cheery smile that first drew me to her. “Don’t worry, I will. You take care of yourself, too, Sienna.”
I nod and slam the door. “I’ll call you soon.”
As I walk slowly up the front steps, I hear the automatic window slide down. “What should I tell Lucas?” she questions, and my shoulders go taut.
“That he would be an idiot if he thought I would ever stop loving him.”
Chapter 22
Over the next day and a half, two messages from Samantha pop up in my inbox—one to ask me how I’m feeling again and the other wanting to know if I had met the real Lucas yet. I don’t answer either email, nor do I erase them, though I have no idea what I’m keeping the damn things for. All I know is that they make furious.
I don’t realize that someone is following me, until Tuesday afternoon, when I notice the black car that was parked on the street near the top of my driveway sitting in front of a meter close to The Beacon.
When I rush inside of the bar, I’m breathless and glancing behind me. I crash into a rock hard wall of flesh, and let out a shriek.
“I got you, girl.” Nick, the redheaded doorman, grasps my shoulders, steadying me. “Calm down. You’re shaking like a leaf.”
My breath is going in and out rapidly, but I manage to slow it down enough to blurt out, “I think whoever’s in that car is following me.”
Nick studies my face carefully, and I feel large splotches of embarrassment heating up my skin. The muscles in his neck tighten. “Which car?” he demands.
He follows me over to the glass door, and I point at it. “Can you go check it out, Nicky?” I hear Ashley ask from behind us. I spin around, giving her an appreciative look that borders on the edge of desperation.
“You got it.”
While Nick goes outside, Ashley grabs my wrist and leads me over to a back table. “You don’t need to watch that,” she says. “It’s broad daylight and Nicky deals with shitheads all night long. He can handle whoever this ass**le is.”
Resting my elbows on the table, I bury my face in my hands, inhaling deeply before running them back through my hair. “I’m a f**king mess.”
Ashley’s back stiffens. “Dude, you got beat up by some psycho in a parking lot less than four days ago. You’re not a mess. You’re normal.”
The front bell clangs, and both of our heads fly up to see Nick stomping towards us with a familiar face in tow. David. My hand flies to my chest as I stumble to my feet and they both stop short in front of me.
“Tell this dickhead that I’m not harassing you,” David snarls, and I nod my head quickly at Nick.
“No, he’s fine! This is one of Your Toxic Sequel’s security guards.” Noticing the questioning glare that I shoot at David, Ashley takes this as her cue to leave. She wiggles off of the chair she’s sitting on, and motions her head to the back of the bar.
“Let’s give them a little bit of room, Nicky,” Ashley suggests, and Nick begrudgingly follows her toward the bar counter where Ashley pretends to be checking inventory while keeping a cautious eye on what’s happening out here between David and me.
“Lucas?” I ask and David answers with a grunt.
“He said you needed some time. Asked me to come off the tour and keep an eye on you for him.”
And he’s probably paying you both arms and legs, but I don’t say that to David. “Thank you.” I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze. “It means a lot to me that you’ve been making sure I stayed safe.”
David’s dark brown eyes are apologetic, and he bows his head. “I should’ve let you know it was me.”
“Yeah, probably. I would’ve been a lot less terrified.”
The awkward conversation between David and me continues for another few minutes before he excuses himself from the bar, shooting a dark look at Nick as he ducks his head to walk out the door.
Ashley comes back out onto the bar floor, slinging a dishtowel over her shoulder. She sighs and stares out at the front of the room. “Lucas-Fucking-Wolfe and the shit he’ll do for his woman,” she sighs, sending a chill down my spine.