“Hey,” Sydney says, stirring me from my spiraling thoughts. “You okay? You look out of it.”
I force a smile. “Yeah. Just... need to use the restroom. I drank a ton of coffee before me and Silver even got here.”
“Take your time.” She nods, though concern still flickers in her eyes.
I slide out of my chair and head toward the bathroom. The hallway is dim and quiet, a welcome respite from the noise of the main barroom. I push open the bathroom door and lean over the sink, turning on the cold water.
The face staring back at me in the mirror looks worried. Flat out petrified.
Get it together, Lana.
I cup my hands under the faucet and splash the cold water on my face, letting it shock some sense back into me.
It helps a little. Enough to slow my racing heart and remind me Silver’s more than capable of handling things. He wouldn’t walk into that meeting without a plan.
He’s going to be fine.
He has to be or else I won’t be either…
I pat my face dry with a paper towel and take a deep breath. Then I push open the bathroom door and step back into the hallway.
“Hey there, sweetheart.”
I nearly jump out of my skin before I realize it’s just Mick, emerging from the stockroom with a case of whiskey bottles in his arms. His white hair is mussed and there’s a smudge of dust on his cheek, but his eyes are kind as they settle on me.
“Everything okay?” he asks, setting the case down with a grunt. “I’ve noticed you still seem upset.”
His concern in and of itself is reassuring. Silver has joked that Mick is the club’s grandpa, and that couldn’t be more true. He’s the ever steady, gentle presence who is the backbone of the club, keeping the saloon running and serving as a listening ear to everybody.
“I’m just a little anxious,” I admit. “Waiting is the hardest part.”
He nods sagely. “Always is. But those boys know what they’re doing. Silver especially. That man’s got more lives than a cat. Tell you what. Let me fix you a Cherry Coke with whipped cream. Your favorite, right?”
My smile returns to my face, a real one. “You remembered.”
“Course I did. I’ve got everybody’s drinks memorized in this noggin.” He chuckles, tapping his temple. “Maybe I’ll add a little rum too. Just to take the edge off now that you’re all grown up, Miss Twenty-One.”
I laugh despite myself, following him back toward the main floor. For only a moment, the knot in my chest loosens. Maybe everything really will be?—
I stop dead in my tracks.
Teysha’s here.
Logan’s wife is standing near the bar, baby Chloe balanced on her hip. She’s wearing a loose sweater that drapes her body, her hair thrown up in a messy bun like she rushed out the door without thinking. Her face is less radiant than usual, tears streaming down her cheeks as she talks to the other ladies.
Tito stands nearby, his expression grim.
The knot in my chest pulls tight again. Tighter than before.
This can’t be good.
I wander over on legs that feel like they belong to someone else, dread sinking through me like a stone dropped in water. The ladies have gone silent, their features flat and wide with shock.
Sydney has her hand pressed over her mouth. Korine looks like she might be sick.
“What happened?” I ask, sounding unlike myself. Almost as if it’s someone else speaking through my mouth. “What’s going on?”
Teysha turns to me, her eyes red-rimmed and wild with fear.
