Zane/Chaos
Words just flowed from my lips like a broken faucet. My dad’s death left a curse on my name. My own mother damned me. She rushed to my dad’s aid, leaving one of her sons unconscious and the other vibrating with the reality of a life-changing action. When the police asked me why I did it, I said, “Because I hate him.”
That hate has never gone away. It festers inside me, fermenting with each passing year. It’s a rotting dark stain on my life.
Not her, though. Even with the darkness tormenting her soul, light shines from Lily.
I want to keep her.
I step out of the truck, my boots grinding against the gravel, and roll my shoulders. Heavy music thrums toward us, getting louder the closer we get to the door. Lily grabs my arm to stop me from going further.
Retching sounds draw our attention to one of the women who just left the bar. She’s leaning against the wall, heaving, her friends stumbling and giggling beside her.
“Maybe we get a bottle to go and park somewhere quieter?”
I couldn’t agree more. “You go back to the truck. I’ll grab us a bottle.” I keep my eyes on her until she’s back in the truck with the door closed before I head inside.
Trent, the bar owner, spots me immediately and stiffens. A rustle of apprehension tensing his shoulders. It doesn’t matter how many times I come drinking here the asshole watches me like I’m going to start fucking shit up.
“All good, Trent?” I ask to be a dick manoeuvring through the crowd to the bar. He offers me pinched features and a grunt. Turning my attention to Willy, one of the bartenders, I ask, “Can I get a bottle of Jack?”
Bodies shove against my back, trying to order drinks by shouting over my shoulder. There’s no way Lily and I would have been able to talk over this noise. “Kiss the bride to be?” Some woman croons in my ear, white lace material hanging from her head, a sash across her chest.
“No thanks.”
Trent moves from the end of the bar, ushering the people bumping into me farther down. I grin at him, and he nods to Willy, who plonks the bottle on the bar with a glass. “I’ll put it on your tab.”
“Thanks. I won’t be needing this. I’m not staying.” I push the glass back toward him, and Trent sags in relief. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what his problem is but fuck it and fuck him. Lily is waiting.
Swiping up the bottle, I shove my way past everyone until I breathe fresh air again and make my way back to the truck. Lily’s in the driver’s seat, tapping her thumb on the wheel to the beat of a song on the radio.
Opening the passenger side door, I raise a brow, and she rolls her eyes. “Get in. I want to take you somewhere.”
“Should I be worried?”
“You’re safe with me.” She winks, and it’s fucking adorable. Climbing inside, I slam the door closed and buckle in.
Pulling out, she swerves to avoid the group still lingering and merges with traffic. Lights blur past the window, the streets getting quieter as the night wears on. Driving up a suburban street, Lily idles the truck next to an old Toyota.
“This is where I used to live.” She points to a one-story house, the garden overgrown with weeds, the paint chipping on the garage door.
“Who lives here now?” I ask, watching her. The light from the moon slices through a break in the clouds, highlighting the side of her face.
“No one,” she breathes out, her body almost curling into itself. “I inherited it.”
No shit.
“My grandparents inherited me, I suppose, when my mom killed herself.” Pain emanates from her in waves.
Fuck, I want to hold her. “Drugs.” She scoffs, swiping at her nose, not taking her eyes from the house.
It’s an odd-looking place. There’s only one window to the side of the house, and the front is just a pale blue wall.
“She must have known what they were.” Dropping her hands in her lap, she shivers. “I could have told Jameson. He would have burned this place to ash.”
“Why didn’t you?” My nerves jitter like bugs have embedded under my skin.
“They got inside my head. Said I was to blame. A dirty little sinner. Told me Jameson would disown me if he knew. Ruby too.”