Becca

 

“Looking for someone?” Jace’s voice startled me, and I almost slipped off the stool. He laughed, sliding a bottle of water toward me. “Here.”

“No one in particular.” I grabbed the bottle and uncapped the lid. “Thanks.”

Liar. I was looking for Malachi, hoping that maybe he decided to come after all even though he pulled me to the side today at school and told me he couldn’t come tonight. But here I was anyway, sipping on water and hoping my face didn’t betray the anxiety churning my stomach.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Jace said, “No Malachi tonight?”

“He’s busy,” I said, not really liking the accusation in his voice.

After Saturday with Evan and Eli, I’d spent the week avoiding Evan, and it was exhausting. I caught him looking across the hallway at me like a wounded puppy more than once. Felt his heated stare on me in class. But everything was so confusing, and I needed to let loose. Sunday, I’d had every intention of heading to Teller’s, but Mom insisted we spend the evening together as a family. We sat in the living room watching old movies and not talking. Very family like. So I’d waited until Tuesday, but it was weird. I’d showed up alone; however, by the time the band started, Malachi had appeared. Like a protective bodyguard, ready to jump into action when I needed it, he’d stood at the edge of the room, watching. We didn’t speak, and he didn’t come and stand with me, like the time before. And when I was ready to leave, he simply said, “Come on,” and drove me home. No questions asked. We didn’t discuss my presence at the bar, and he didn’t try to give me another lecture. It just was. And then Wednesday at school, he went back to ignoring me.

“All alone then?”

“I guess,” I said, unwilling to make eye contact. Jace seemed like a good guy, but I was here to avoid judgment, and his gaze felt too much like scrutiny. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Jace was staring at me, his eyes probing my face. I could tell he wanted to say something, and it occurred to me that Malachi might have asked him to keep an eye on me. Whatever. I was here now, and I intended on enjoying myself as much as possible.

“I’m good. Can I get a beer?” Maybe it would settle the nerves.

He studied me, and for a second, I thought he might say no, but eventually, he said, “Sure. One beer coming up.”

I dropped some bills on the bar and turned around to face the room. “Looks like the band is about to start.” I nodded over at the stage where a tall, thin girl stepped up to the mic. Her bright red hair shimmered in the spotlight like flames in the wind.

“They have a more chilled sound, but they’re good.” Jace placed down the beer. I understood his unspoken words—things wouldn’t be as crazy tonight.

“Can’t wait.” I took a long pull on the beer and hopped off the stool. “I’ll see you later, Jace.”

He nodded as I headed for the dancefloor. A couple of guys smiled as if they recognized me, but I couldn’t pick out their faces. I wasn’t here to make friends or get hit on by guys twice my age. I just wanted to lose myself in the music. To feel the adrenaline flooding my veins.

To forget.

The lights dimmed, and I finished the beer. Placing it on one of the ledges, I wound my way through the crowd just in time to hear the girl’s silky voice over the mic followed by the opening beats. Anticipation rippled in the air, electrifying the hairs along the back of my neck, and I braced myself.

Everything started out fine. I danced along with the crowd, losing myself in the haunting vocals. And then all hell broke loose. I didn’t notice at first, too entranced by the beat, the sea of synchronized black and leather, moving as one to the music. Someone jostled me, and I turned to see a woman with wide eyes as her alarmed gaze fixed on something to the side of us. I followed her line of sight, a gasp slipping from my lips as I saw two huge men fighting. The crowd pushed back, giving them room as they drove fists into one another, while the music played on. I didn’t know what to do. Everyone seemed to continue enjoying the band, paying little attention to the men grappling at the edge of the dancefloor, but then another guy jumped in, and before I knew it, an all-out riot broke out. Glass shattered, people screamed, and the violent sounds of grown men hurting each other drowned out the music until I realized the band stopped playing. I started to retreat through the crowd, pushing my way to the bar, but everyone had the same idea—to get away from the brawl—and it created a bottleneck. Bodies closed in around me until I couldn’t breathe.

It was too loud—the screams, the sound of wood clattering against wood—and I pressed my palms to my ears, trying to calm the panic rising in me. People pushed and shoved in an attempt to exit the bar while security swooped in, hauling grown men out like they weighed nothing more than feathers. A hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped, my heart lurching into my throat.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Jace said, and the relief I felt was instant. “Come on; I have a beer with your name on it.”

I followed him to the quieter side of the bar. Things were calming down, but the place was trashed.

“You okay?” He placed a bottle down in front of me.

“So much for the band being more chilled, huh?” A strangled laugh tumbled out, and he shook his head, amusement glinting in his eyes.

“Just a normal Tuesday night.”

“Really?” I hadn’t gotten that impression. Sure, it was a little rough around the edges, but that was some crazy shit.

“Nah, happens once in a blue moon, but when it does, it blows up like the Fourth of July. You sure you’re okay? You’re shaking.” He motioned to my hand, and I thrust it down by my thighs.

“I’m fine. Just a little shaken.”

“Listen, maybe I should call you a cab?”

I nodded. What I really wanted was for Malachi to walk through the doors and offer me a ride home, but he wasn’t coming. And I was beginning to think he’d made it a point to tell me he wouldn’t be here for a reason.

And that maybe I should have listened.

~

I avoided the cafeteria at lunch, lingering behind at my locker while everyone hurried off to eat and catch up with friends. Deciding I could hide out in the library, I set off in the right direction when a hand caught my wrist. “We need to talk.”

My eyes snapped to Malachi’s. “What the hell?” I hissed, glancing around. The hallway was almost empty. Malachi didn’t talk as he dragged me around the corner to the main stairwell.

“You went to Teller’s last night?”

“Let me guess. Jace told you?”

He ignored my question, which only irritated me all the more. “Becca,” he said like I was a child he was about to scold. “I told you I wasn’t going to be there.”

“And? I don’t need you to protect me, Malachi.”

He grumbled something under his breath, rubbing a hand back and forth over his head. “You can’t be going there alone. It’s not safe.”

“Not safe?” My voice rose, but I quickly lowered it, not wanting to draw attention. “You were the one who took me there. I didn’t ask to go. It’s just a bar. Jace seems like a good guy; he looks out for me.” He looked out for me last night when you weren’t there. I knew it was unfair to think that. Malachi didn’t owe me anything, but if he thought it wasn’t safe for me to hang out there, then maybe he shouldn’t have taken me in the first place.

He let out a frustrated breath. “He is a good guy, but that’s not the point. I didn’t think you’d start going there on your own.”

“Are you for real?” I stared at him incredulously. “You ignore me at school, barely talk to me at the bar, and then think you can pull this shit? What the hell is wrong with you people? I’m not some child who needs wrapping up in cotton wool. You don’t know what I’ve been through, what I’ve …” I smashed my lips together, realizing my slip.

Malachi’s eyes narrowed, and I glared back at him. He didn’t speak. Neither did I. This—whatever this was—was over as far as I was concerned. People around here made a habit of giving you things in one hand and snatching them away in the other, and I was done.

“See you around, Malachi.” I shouldered him out of the way and didn’t look back.

~

Afternoon classes dragged while my run-in with Malachi weighed heavily on my mind. Deep down, I knew he had every right to be pissed that I went to Teller’s alone. He took me there; he probably felt some kind of responsibility, but I thought he understood. Thought he got how much I needed somewhere to escape. Before heading home, I went to stash some books in my locker. There was another note. I ripped it out of my locker and scanned the hallway for any signs of Kendall. She was watching me from across the hall with arms folded over her chest, and her hip cocked to one side. 

Refusing to be intimidated, I calmly closed my locker, hitched my bag over my shoulder, and walked straight toward her. She didn’t falter as I drew closer with the folded white note still in my hand. I didn’t open it; I didn’t care what was scrawled inside. As I passed her, I slowed down, my whole body shaking with anger. I held out my hand and crumpled the note before throwing it into the trashcan behind her. Her glare turned from amused to furious, and a sense of satisfaction filled my chest. Maybe I was playing a dangerous game by baiting her, but it was too late now. 

“Becca.” Her voice slowed me down, but I didn’t stop. “You really should pay attention.”

I held up my finger and flipped her off over my shoulder. 

Kendall O’Hare could go to hell.