I could use a little release.
“Wait.”
Her soft voice managed to reach me, even over the pounding bass. She tugged my hand , and I paused and turned toward her, waiting for her to speak.
“I can’t be here,” she said, shaking her head. Her eyes were boring into mine unflinchingly, and I wished it wasn’t so dark in here. I wanted to know their true color, since they weren’t all green, or all brown. There were unusual flecks that I could just make out, which appeared to match the natural golden highlights in her hair.
“Why can’t you be here?” I pushed, wanting her story.
“I’m putting you in danger. I need to escape… I need to hide.”
She looked pale, and fragile in my shirt as it engulfed her. Fucking caveman part of my brain really liked seeing her in my clothing.
“Just stay for a drink,” I told her. Fuck knew why I couldn’t let her leave, but I never ignored my instincts. Not anymore. And tonight, they’d decided that we had to help this chick. “Stay, and I will make sure you’re safe. Let me help you.”
She was torn, her expression falling, but as she let out another deep breath, I knew that, for now, she was staying. Who knew how many more times tonight I’d have to talk her off a ledge, but for once, when dealing with someone else’s demons, mine stayed quiet.
Toying with the hoop in the side of my lower lip, I changed tact and detoured us back to the enormous main bar. Around the far side, away from the dance floor, it wasn’t so crowded. It was also out of sight of the VIP area, which meant I could keep her all to myself for a while.
My band was my family, but she certainly wouldn’t be the first beautiful girl I’d lost to one of them. Sue me for taking my opportunity as it presented itself.
Eyes were on me from all directions, but I ignored them all. My focus was locked on the golden-haired girl clutching my fingers so tight it hurt. She was giving me whiplash, the way she shifted between wanting to flee andmaybetrusting me. Understandable, though, if she was fleeing an abusive partner. I hated men who beat on women. Cowards, every last fucking one of them.
“Let’s sit over there,” I suggested, nudging her in the direction of a velvet sofa that had just been vacated. Empty glasses still littered the table, but a waitress arrived to clear them as we sat down.
I ordered a beer, then turned to ask the pretty girl what she wanted to drink. Her cheeks were flushed pink, though, and her fingers twisted in the hem of my shirt as she meekly asked for a water.
Frowning, I held up a hand to pause the waitress.
“Just water? No offense, but you seem like you could go for something stronger after…” I gestured to my shirt. Meaning,after all that blood. “Or do you not drink? Totally cool, if you don’t.”
She grimaced, seeming to shrink smaller in her seat. “No, I drink. But… I have no money…”
I bit my lip, toying with my piercing before I said something dumb and scared her off. She was so guarded, and if she was anything like the other women I’d known like her…
“Make that two beers please,” I told the waitress. “Please bring them sealed.”
The girl beside me gave a small sound but made no comment on my somewhat unusual request. But shit. She seemed like the type who’d be cautious of being drugged. The least I could do was put her mind at ease for just one drink.
“I hope you drink beer,” I murmured, running a hand over the back of my neck and suddenly second-guessing myself.
Her smile was lopsided and small, but fuck, it was beautiful. “Beer is just fine. Thank you.”
I forced myself to sit back on the sofa, draping my arm along the back of it in an attempt to look cool and casual. I hadn’t been this nervous talking to a girl inyears.
“What’s your name?” I asked, watching her carefully. Her fingers still toyed with the hem of my t-shirt, but it was more of a fidget than a nervous gesture.
Her tongue swept over her perfect lips, and she tossed me another lopsided smile. “Probably best I don’t tell you. Plausible deniability and all that.”
A dull note struck through me at that brush off. “But then what will I call you?”
She shrugged. “Anything. Nothing. It doesn’t matter. By morning I’ll probably just be a statistic.”
What the fuck did she mean by that?She thinks she’ll be dead?Oh. Hell no.
Our waitress returned with our beers, and my nameless companion watched like a hawk as the bottles were opened in front of us.
“Anything-Nothing is a terrible name,” I teased when the waitress was gone—not without tossing me some flirtatious looks. “I have to call yousomething. You don’t seem like the kind of girl fordarling, babe,orprincess.”
