I duck into the same dive bar where it all began.

Weaving through the cluster of tables, I work through to the darkest corner of the room, and plop down next to Lucas. He’s semi disguised in a ball cap and hoodie, bringing back a shit ton of memories from that night.

Not all of them good.

I glance over at the bar where I last remember seeing Austin, his bloodied body flattened out on the concrete floor. This is pretty much the last place on Earth I want to be, but I’m glad we haven’t been banned after the last incident.

Regardless of how things ended, Lucas saved me that night, rescued me from more than the advances of a shitty employee. He made me take a hard look at the mundane routine of my life—and showed me how things could be different.

I don’t want to go back to that. I can’t.

I just don’t know if Lucas has enough in him to save me again tonight. There are bigger wolves at the door this time, and they’ve got their razor-sharp teeth bared.

Lucas doesn’t acknowledge me when I sit down, and I admit, that stings.

I lick my lips. “Thanks for meeting me.”

His head jerks and he slugs back a shot of amber liquid. I count a half dozen empty shot glasses on the table and a couple beer mugs. I’m tardy, but not that late. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“Long enough.”

I’m not sure what he means, and the curt tone of his voice is like a wasp bite. I understand that we’re not pretending anymore, but I was under the impression that he had genuine feelings for me. Maybe I was wrong, because it hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours and he’s acting like we’ve never met. “Can we talk about the lawsuit?”

“Christ, Eden.” He sits back in his chair, adjusts his hat, and scowls. “Not that shit again.”

A response catches in my throat. He isn’t slurring, but I can tell he’s drunk. Instinct suggests I should back away, try again tomorrow, but I don’t have that kind of time. “We said we’d discuss it…”

He grunts, and flags down the server who already has another shot on the way. The first inklings of worry flutter down my spine. Lucas gets moody—who doesn’t? But this… something else is clearly going on. “Bad day at the office?”

His scowl gets deeper, meaner. “Why the hell would you ask that now?” he snaps.

I blink in surprise. “In case you’ve forgotten, up until last night, any work discussion at all has been off limits.” I didn’t pry in his business, he stayed out of mine. On some level, I recognize that we were wrong to cut that part of ourselves off to one another, but it’s the only way our relationship could work.

Look at us now.

“It’s still none of your business,” he says gruffly.

The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. I can feel his temper ramping up, and I’m not interested in being on the receiving end when he snaps. “Fine, we don’t have to talk about your work. But we agreed to discuss the lawsuit. When our week of…” My voice trails off not sure how to end the sentence. It was more than just fucking, whether he’s willing to admit it or not. There’s something between us. A connection deeper than either of us thought possible, I know it.

That’s what I need to appeal to—Lucas’s heart.

The waitress drops off another shot and lifts her eyebrow at me in question. I shake my head. Alcohol would just muddy things here, and I need a clear mind. I lean forward and cover Lucas’s hand with mine, hoping the connection reminds him of how right we are together. “Please. It’s important.”

He yanks away as if my touch burnt his flesh, knocking over his drink. “What the hell do you expect me to do, Eden?”

My heart stutters. No darlin’. Eden. More than his temperament, that tells me everything I need to know. He’s done.

“Damn it,” he mutters, shaking off his fingers. Whiskey—or rum, whatever was in that shot—spackles my leather jacket and the side of my cheek. He takes a deep breath and sighs. “I only have one vote. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t change their minds. We’ve all just got to ride this out.”

“Even if you wanted to?” My voice goes hoarse. “So, you don’t want to? You weren’t planning to address it all. This was for nothing. All of it. You spent a week with me so you could fuck my brains out, no strings attached. Just like I thought.”

“What the hell are you babbling on about? That’s what we agreed on.” His eyes go cold. “You think I can’t get laid any day of the week? That I have to make some kind of deal for sex?” He huffs. “That’s rich, lady.”

I know what he’s saying is true—Lucas could have a different woman on his arm every night. Before he met me, he did. I’m no different than them.

Except that isn’t quite true. He didn’t find me attractive enough to show off. Didn’t take me to parties or work functions, didn’t put me on display. We hid out where people least expected to find him—

“You played me,” I say, running off on a tangent, fully believing the worst because that’s so much easier than sorting through what’s truth and carefully executed white lie. “Keeping me hidden, like your dirty little secret. For fuck’s sake, Lucas. Grow up. Quit being such a kid.”

The tips of his ears go crimson and a restless energy vibrates from his skin. I realize after I’ve said it, that referring to Lucas as being unwilling to grow up is a bit of a low blow given what happened to him in his childhood.

“Leave, Eden,” he says, his voice so low and ominous it makes my skin crawl. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Hey, buddy, is that any way to talk to a lady?”

The question comes out of nowhere, catching me off guard. Both of us off guard, evidently. I don’t even have time to react, because Lucas bolts from his chair to stare down the man who dared to speak aloud. My hands tremble. I’ve seen Lucas’s anger boil over before. I know what comes next.

The man stands. He’s big, muscular. Probably works out. “You got something to say, tough guy?” he says, leveling Lucas with a stare that screams, Go ahead, try me.

I yank on Lucas’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go somewhere private to talk.”

But Lucas isn’t listening to me. It’s as if he’s in a trance. He yanks free of my grip and raises his fists. His eyes burn so bright they’re practically glowing. He pulls back and fires a shot, straight to the guy’s dimpled chin. Blood goes flying.

The big guy flops his head like a rag doll, and then rolls it back. He spits on the floor, cracks his neck, and grins like a Cheshire Cat. It’s the most terrifying grin I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something.

“Bro, you made a bad mistake messing with me.”

He lunges toward Lucas, who easily dodges the guy’s fist. “What’s wrong old guy, don’t think I have it in me to take you?”

Lucas is fast, nimble, and a seasoned street fighter. Couple that with adrenaline, and it’s conceivable he could…

That’s what I believe. At least, until I look up and the odds take a startling twist.

Lucas doesn’t just have one adversary—there’s two.

Shit.

The newcomer bounces like a boxer just getting ready to jump into the ring. He moves from foot to foot, executing some kind of fancy footwork that might be mesmerizing if his eyes weren’t locked on Lucas. Now I’m no longer impressed.

He jabs his fist toward Lucas with an audible snap, missing. His hand recoils back into position, locked and loaded.

Lucas blocks the second punch, catching the guy’s wrist as it whizzes by. He twists, and newcomer is down on one knee. But behind Lucas, the big guy has recovered. He stumbles to his feet and grabs a chair, holding it high over his head.

A scream catches in my throat, somehow enough to warn Lucas of the danger. He ducks, and the chair hits the table, knocking everything flying. Dishes, cutlery, food, full mugs of beer—it all shatters across the floor with a thundering crash.

Lucas turns to take care of the big guy, but newcomer comes in with a swift uppercut, catching Lucas’s jaw. There is a deafening crack, and then a roar of pain. I’ll be shocked if Lucas doesn’t have a broken something.

“Someone help!” I scream.

My voice gets lost in the chanting and cheering. I can’t tell which team anyone’s on, just that they’re itching to see this bar fight escalate, while I’m desperate for it to stop.

Lucas grabs the newcomer by the shoulders, and they grapple for position. The big guy sweeps his foot under Lucas’s leg, taking him out at the knee. He buckles, starts to go down…

He isn’t going alone.

Lucas twists the newcomer around as they fall, and there is a bone-shattering crash as they hit the edge of the bar.

As one of the two attackers jumps on top of Lucas and begins hitting him while he’s down, I decide to do something to stop this madness.

So I jump on his back and try and pull him off. Now the crowd is cheering even louder, people are laughing.

But nobody’s trying to help me stop this, they’re just watching like it’s a movie. “Help!” I scream.

“All right, all right, break this shit up now!”

I look up and into the weathered face of a New York City cop. “Are you hurt, Miss?”

Yes.

More police are filtering through the crowd now.

Thank God, I think.

My body aches, but I think I’m more in shock than anything else. I shake my head, thinking he’ll move on to someone else.

Instead, the officer holds out his hand and roughly yanks me to a standing position. He wrenches my arm behind my back and slaps on a handcuff. I’m mid protest when he grabs my other hand and locks it up as well.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shriek.

His nostrils flare, and I realize in this moment I’ve never disliked anyone any more in my life. “Until we sort out what happened here,” he says. “You’re all coming with us.”

I wriggle in protest, but it’s no use. I’m clearly heading to the police station—thankfully not alone. I glance over my shoulder and watch as Lucas is put in cuffs too, his head bowed, shoulders tense with anger.

Fuck me.

In all my imaginations, this is not at all how I thought this night would turn out.