The sun is just beginning to set, casting off shades of purple and pink across the sky. I strut across the pavement in my favorite wedge sandals. My simple tee and shorts will blend into any background. I’ll be another face in the crowd. Not the sad girl whose boyfriend got locked up. Tonight I can pretend everything is back to normal, especially with my bestie in tow.
I walk into the entrance with my chin tipped high. This will be a fun night out of the house. If I keep repeating that, maybe it will come true. I’m looking around for a place to sit when I hear him. My startled gaze snaps toward the muffled tone.
Lance Fucking Morris.
What the hell is he doing out here? And what are the damn chances? Pretty effing slim on a bad day. This must be the bottom of luck barrel. I drag in a slow breath, fried food and popcorn heavy in the air. Jace and Grady simultaneously scold me—in my mind.
Smart and safe.
I whip out my phone and search for other bars in the area. After a quick scan, I click on the closest one. Looks decent enough. I open my messages and get typing.
Me: Last second change of plans. Let’s meet at Hal’s off Exit 54.
I tap my shoe on the sticky floor while waiting for the three little dots to appear. Thirty seconds later and nothing. I belatedly realize she’s probably well on her way. Calling her from the car will be far more effective.
I’m preparing to turn and leave, but Lance’s slurring words stop me in my tracks. The sight of him makes putrid acid roil in my belly. He’s propped up on a corner stool and appears seven sheets to the wind. No one else is sitting nearby. Even strangers can sniff out a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
He holds up a bottle, swinging the beer in a wide arc. “Sutton is meant for me. That girl might as well have my last name tattooed on her ass.” His shoulders shake with a silent laugh. “Wouldn’t that be a sight? I’d love to see the look on her precious boyfriend’s face. He’d deserve to witness that permanent display.”
My thoughts are a catastrophic hurricane swooping down to wreak havoc. I want to storm over and rain a wrath of fury upon him. But he seems to be brewing up his side of the travesty without my intervention.
Lance squints into the distance, or maybe he’s attempting to focus on something specific. It’s almost impossible to tell. “That asshole was supposed to skip town after his mother died. He hates Silo Springs and all the people in it. Well, almost everyone. I was certain he’d be long gone before she moved home. He could’ve avoided jail, but no.”
Who the hell is he talking to?
I inch toward a booth across from him, remaining hidden in the shadows. Lance doesn’t notice me in his inebriated state. I hunch low in the seat and settle in for his production.
He guzzles half his drink, not that he needs more booze. “I’d been planning it for a month. Just needed the right moment, you know? The opportunity fell right into my lap.”
Holy shit, he’s bragging. Is this actually happening? It might be worthless, but I’m not taking any chances.
I scramble to reach my phone. After opening the camera app, I set it to record. I hold the screen out and up until his sloppy face comes into view.
Lance burps and almost falls off his stool. “It's one of my best ideas yet. I watched him all night. The bastard barely left her side. But he finally did and I followed him into the alley.”
Oh my gosh, poor Grady. He had no warning that Lance was coming for him. None of us would’ve pegged this drunk doofus as a conniving villain. I glance around the buzzing space with wide eyes. My pulse rivals a raging thunderstorm. Even now, no one is suspecting a thing.
He slams the empty bottle down and signals for another. The bartender shakes his head. Lance spreads his arms out wide. “What’s the problem? Are you taking his side? Everyone loves that cocky asshole. Did he tell you to cut me off?” He wags a sloppy finger at his newfound audience. “That’s not possible. He can’t tattletale from where I sent him.”
The other guy rolls his eyes and walks away. Smart man.
It’s nearly impossible to sit back and listen to him rave about this horrific accomplishment. I scratch at my crawling skin. The urge to vomit tickles my tonsils. I wrestle with instinct and exhale through the nausea.
What is Lance doing unloading all this? The possibility that he’s feeling guilty is more insane than the man himself. His confession is purely selfish boasting. He’s probably scouting out his next victim. An eerie chill prickles at me. This is the end of all that.
“What makes him so damn special? He’s trailer park trash. His entire life has been one disaster after another. She should be with someone on her level. That’s how it always should’ve been. But she looks at him like he hung all the stars in the universe just for her.”
I want to smack his forehead and yell,“News flash, Lance. Get a damn clue.”He’ll never be able to see the truth. His vision is clouded by his own ego. Grady is a million times better than any man he could hope to be.
“So, yeah, he had to go. And I finally got my chance to make it happen.” He makes a walking motion with his fingers.
If I didn’t know how this ends, his story would be a huge clusterfuck. Maybe that’s why it appears no one is listening to his belligerent confession. That probably gives him a false sense of security. Is he stupid? I snort at that. The answer is directly in front of me, swaying on his seat. I suppose it’s hard keeping this type of fool-proof plan to himself. Such a moron.
Too bad, Lance. I stumbled into the same bar.
He continues prattling on without a care in the world. “I struck up a pleasant conversation with him at first. Didn’t want to seem suspicious right off the bat, you know? But then I provoked him. Talking about her really pissed him off. He still held off, though. The noble guy didn’t take my bait. I prepared for that.”
Lance makes a spectacle of pretending to punch himself in the nose. I slap a palm over my mouth to trap my scream. This dude is straight up crazy. I gag when a loud belch rips from his throat.
