Skeletons of Us (Unquiet Mind Book 2) (20 page)

“You want to talk about it, babe?” Noah asked softly once we’d gotten into his SUV and screeched out of the lot.

I chose to ignore the Jeep that followed us.

My mind was whirling. Killian’s words and everything that happened in the ring making everything louder than usual. I needed quiet. Otherwise I might go insane.

Or lose all my dignity and go running back to Killian, broken heart and all.

“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “I’d like to get drunk.” I glanced over at Noah. His jaw was hard and his grip on the wheel was tight with anger.

His eyes flared in surprise. “Drunk?” he repeated.

I nodded. “First, I feel like going to that bar and playing something,” I added. I needed to play. Then I needed alcohol. “There’s some party or club opening that Wyatt and Sam are going to tonight, right?”

Noah snorted. “There’s always something for those boys to go to.”

It would be the first time they’d ventured out since everything went down. They’d been hovering over me like hens, and I had to convince them to leave me in Noah and Killian’s capable hands.

Now it looked like I’d be going with them.

“We can keep driving you know,” Noah said. “Not stop till we get to Mexico. You can get away from all this. Escape him.” His eyes flickered to the Jeep trailing behind us.

“I can never escape him, Noe. I’ve always known that.” I sighed.

“This shit is fucking unfair, Lexie,” Noah spat. “You shouldn’t have to face him. Have him in your life on top of dealing with this stalker shit. It’s too much for one person.” The interior of the car radiated with Noah’s anger. His attractive face contorted in fury.

“What’s too much is all this attention on me,” I argued. “I’m sick of it. Let’s escape my worries for the length of this car ride and talk about you.” I narrowed my eyes at Noah.

He stiffened slightly. “What about me?”

“Well, how about you distract me from my steaming pile of crap, otherwise known as a love life, and talk about yours,” I urged.

Noah’s jaw hardened and his eyes went blank. “Nothing to talk about.” I could almost feel him close up on me. We were so close in some ways and in others the yawning distance between me and my best friend was incomprehensible. I couldn’t even begin to understand the crisis of identity he was struggling with. Shit that was planted by his asshole father, then having to deal with what came with being a rock star. Having women throwing themselves at him.

I reached over to squeeze his hand. “You know I love you, right, Noe?”

His eyes softened. “Love you too, Lex.”

“No. I love you, Noe,” I corrected. “
You
. The real you. The one that you beat yourself up for being. The beautiful one. There’s nothing wrong with that, Noah, you know that right? That you can be who you are without an ounce of judgment from me, from the boys. We love you for exactly who you are.”

I let my words sink in. I didn’t expect Noah to answer. I knew him. He needed time to digest, like I did. He didn’t speak much at the best of times, especially about himself.

For the millionth time, I cursed his dad for creating the demons Noah battled.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” I whispered. “Just know, whenever you’re ready, we’re here.”

I squeezed his hand and let the silence descend once more, both of us contemplating our demons.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but are you sure you want to go in there?” Sam asked, nodding to the nondescript club in front of us.

I gave him a weak smile. I was getting better at them after the events of this afternoon. This was mostly because Noah had poured me a red wine as soon as we got home and I’d had three more since then.

They were totally working their magic.

Wyatt and Sam had been surprised when I’d announced we were going out to our old bar then to a club opening. I went to small bars around grittier neighborhoods with them whenever we didn’t have paps trailing us. But I’d mostly just hung out and been the designated driver. I’d never willingly gone to a club opening unless Mark explicitly made me, which was hardly ever.

But their eyes had hardened in understanding when Killian had stormed into the house just after I’d had my second sip.

He didn’t notice anyone else as he strode toward me, but Noah stepped in front of me. God, I loved that boy.

“Lexie, we need to talk,” Killian gritted out, his jaw hard.

I regarded him evenly. “No we don’t. I’ve said everything I needed to say.” I took another sip of my wine.

“Jesus, Lexie,” Killian said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Sam stepped forward. “You heard her, bro. She doesn’t have anything to say to you. How about you go and do a perimeter check or whatever you’re here to do.”

Killian’s jaw was hard and he regarded Sam before he turned on his boot and left.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Hope you don’t get stabbed by a bloodthirsty stalker,” Sam called after him.

We all scowled at him when he turned.

“Too soon?” he asked.

Wyatt answered by punching him in the arm.

After that, we’d all gotten ready to go out. Me without my glam squad. I was able to dress myself, but I’d become used to Mario and Shayla working their magic. It was totally ridiculous, but I wanted to look good, or as good as I could look on what little sleep I’d gotten. Killian was as beautiful as he had been when we were together, if not more so, in a dangerous and eerie type of way.

The petty, immature girly part of me wanted to show him that I was beautiful too.

Hence me slathering on red lipstick and teasing my curls atop my head while rogue tendrils escaped. I did my best with winged liner that was nothing like Mario’s, but I thought it might just be passable.

I went with clothes the color of my mood. Black. I rarely wore a color that so easily identified with the color of my insides. I strove to create an illusion of brightness on the outside, even to try and trick myself into thinking I was happy. Not tonight. I slipped on skintight high-waisted black jeans and a teeny tiny top that tied at the back and draped at the front. It wasn’t one I thought I’d ever wear, but there was a first time for everything. I topped it off with my highest and spikiest heels. I rationalized they could be used as a weapon if need be.

I hadn’t forgotten about the pesky notion of my stalker in all my emotional turmoil.

I meet Sam on the landing and looked him up and down. He did the same, whistling low. “Look at you. All sexy and shit. Stop. That’s my job. You must change now,” he commanded.

I grinned at him. “Sexy is your job?” I repeated.

He nodded. “With great looks comes great responsibility. It’s a heavy burden. Good thing I’ve got strong shoulders.”

I focused my gaze on his chest. “And you think that shirt is the best to communicate your sexy?”

Sam looked down. “Of course.”

I laughed. This time it was genuine. He was wearing a black, tight tee that showcased all of his muscles. The color went with his usual look and he had enough silver on him to sink a ship. But the slogan on his tee read, “I taught Christian Grey all that shit.”

Classic Sam.

He linked arms with me. “Let’s go have a great night and pretend biker exes turned bodyguards and stalkers don’t exist,” he proposed.

“Best offer I’ve had all night.”

Now that we were outside the club in our old neighborhood, Sam wasn’t as confident.

“I know you’ve got the baddest of all badasses protecting you, AKA, me,” Sam said from the seat beside me, “and that scrawny biker, but are we sure this is safe?”

I grinned. Of course Sam would call Killian “scrawny.” He went out of his way to insult him. He introduced him to everyone who asked as “Dick, not short for Richard.”

“It’ll be fine. Keltan has a guy riding with Killian.” I squeezed his hand.

I hadn’t been happy with this turn of events, but Killian had flat out threatened to restrain me bodily if I didn’t permit him and Keltan’s guy to trail us. That was after he swore at my outfit then drank me in with a gaze that made my stomach swirl.

Sam grinded his teeth. “Well, okay then. Time to drink, fuck, and rock. Not necessarily in that order.”

He got out of the SUV and I leaned through the seats. “Thanks, Clyde. You sure you don’t want to come in for a drink?” I asked.

He chuckled. “No, Miss Williams, I’m good out here.”

I gave him a look. “Okay, well, try not to get up to too much mischief.”

Then I took Noah’s extended hand and climbed out of the SUV. I had given up on arguing with Clyde about him waiting outside places where he drove us to. I’d felt completely terrible about it at the start, but now I understood it was just what he did.

I ignored Killian and another broadly built and disgustingly attractive man walking in front of us.

The club we entered was bigger than it appeared on the outside and was already half packed. We entered without fanfare, and luckily, we didn’t have any paps trailing us and only a few people noticed us. None made a big deal as we waded through the crowds. I wasn’t sure if it was because people were generally more laidback here as we came here often or because it looked like Killian would shoot anyone who approached. Either way, we made it to the bar without incident.

I took the shot that magically appeared in my hand and clinked my glasses with the boys. I hoped to welcome oblivion, or at least numbness.

*****

“Hey everyone. We’re feeling like a little karaoke tonight. Anyone object?” I murmured into the microphone, not quite slurring my words, but getting close.

The crowd screamed in response. It wasn’t the pulsating mass I’d become used to, just a more low-key group of people we’d spent the night mingling with. I thought Killian might have a heart attack half the night if the look on his face was anything to go by.

A little evil part of me liked this.

Then, we’d decided to climb on the stage. “We used to play here, before Sam got all pretty,” I continued into the mic. “People change and this song is for someone I knew a long time ago.” My eyes sought out ice blue ones that had been watching me the entire time.

I turned to grin at Sam who was beside me. Noah and Wyatt had opted out of the karaoke session.

“Hit it, Eddie.” I nodded to where Eddie switched on the music with a grin. A heap of our tour crew had turned up tonight, as this was a bar where mostly musicians and roadies hung out. Starlets didn’t frequent it because it was out of the way of the glitzier clubs and where the “common people” hung out. Which is why we loved it. Only a few people knew about it, so we weren’t mobbed with crazy fans.

On cue, Gotye’s “Somebody I used to know” started playing and I didn’t hesitate. Everything was numb around the edges I didn’t feel the pain of the words I sang. But I sang them. Right to those ice blue eyes that were frozen in place throughout the entire number. Even when Sam’s voice mingled with mine and he danced with me like an idiot, my eyes only left Killian’s for moments before they crept back like magnets.

The end of the song was welcomed with whoops and cheers. No one took stock of how much I had been singing that song. Really singing it. Apart from the person I was singing it to.

*****

“I need to go to the bathroom and fix my…”—my hand gestured to my hair—“lipstick,” I said to our group.

The boys nodded. Sam was transfixed with a woman with impressive boobs and Wyatt was leaning back with a glass in his hand and chatting to Eddie. He didn’t have a girl with him and seemed to be content just hanging out tonight. We were in a separated VIP area, which meant we weren’t swarmed with people, though we could hear them screaming our names every now and then. Other musicians and actors were peppered in the VIP area, some came for a quick hello and a drink while most left us alone. Maybe that was because we’d dragged half of our roadies from the club with us into the VIP area.

I stood on shaky feet, regretting the last vodka, guessing it was the culprit that made my head spin. I successfully weaved through the tables of A-listers without falling on my face and I turned in a corridor, which I hoped lead to the bathrooms.

“You know, stalking is rude,” I informed Killian, whirling around. I’d sensed him following me the moment I stood up. His gaze had been electric ever since I’d sang that song. It permeated my alcohol haze. The motion of me turning so quickly made me stumble forward and his hands settled on my hips to steady me.

I should have been mad at him touching me like this, but I was happy. Happy because it meant I didn’t take a header on the carpet and also because it felt nice.

It was that simple.

Simple was good.

“You’re drunk,” he observed, his face and voice hard.

I screwed my nose up at him. “No, you’re drunk,” I hissed. I frowned. “Wait, that wasn’t a good comeback. Give me a second.” I held up a finger. Killian didn’t say a thing and his hands stayed at my hips. I tilted my head down, thinking of something. My head snapped up. “No,
you’re
drunk,” I shot triumphantly. My face fell as I realized what I said. “Shit, I already said that,” I muttered. Note to self, brain doesn’t work when mixed with shots.