Downstairs reactions to stares were reserved for one man. The man I had resolved to forget.
The man at this very party.
Even after a year, my downstairs had reacted almost as violently as my heart with that first glimpse of him.
“Every man in this fuckin’ club knows about the rules because every man in this fuckin’ club has thought about the multiple ways he could attempt to break them,” he murmured, stepping forward a little so the distance between us went from friendly to… something else.
Well, something else for him. My downstairs area still didn’t respond.
“I’ve been lookin’ out for you since college,” he continued. “Also been lookin’ for ways to break those rules too.”
I blinked at him. “Sorry, Dwayne. You may be in a club that prides itself on its ability to break every rule in the book, but not my book. The rules stay.”
He tilted his head, regarding me. “Yeah. Or maybe I’m just not the man to break them.” His voice wasn’t unkind, or even angry. It was knowing. He gave me a grin. “I’ll still be spitballing ides, just in case.”
And then something in the air changed. Maybe it was Dwayne talking to me, standing close, brushing the hair from my face that the wind had blown, obscuring my view of Keltan.
“But for now, I’ll go see to women who promise a fuck of a lot less but don’t have any rules,” he added, eyes on the scantily clad girls lingering in the opposite corner of the party. We were standing closer to the parking lot, mainly because of the distance it offered between Keltan and me. My placement this entire afternoon had counted on where Keltan moved to at any given moment. And he circulated. As if on purpose.
When Dwayne lowered his hand, I was met with Keltan’s hard jaw, his own glare that rivaled mine. Though his was focused on the back of Dwayne’s head. Despite the fact that Dwayne gave me a wink and sauntered away towards the club girls.
Keltan kept his gaze on Dwayne for a second, and then he began to weave through the sea of bodies with one destination in mind. His eyes on me told me that.
I wanted to run.
It would have been smart.
But then again, I’d been running for a year.
So, I stood still.
Unfortunately, standing still was not preferable when an afternoon party turned into an afternoon bloodbath.
I didn’t hear the gunshots properly at first. You’d think that gunshots would do a pretty bang-up job of breaking me out of my Keltan daze.
I would have thought so too.
But the reason I properly registered the gunshots was because my eyes were on Keltan’s and they shuttered immediately at the first, going blank and empty and almost robot-like. Then his steady walk turned to a sprint. Towards me. Which wasn’t the best idea considering my current placement. I was on the edge of the grassed area littered with picnic tables and people. On the other side of me was the parking lot. The parking lot that four bikes had roared into and opened fired on the grassed area littered with people. Women. Children. My family.
I didn’t watch the bullets fly for too long because I was hit with a large force and tumbled to the ground.
The large force being Keltan’s body which he used to cover mine the entire time the bullets were flying.
Which seemed like two seconds.
And a lifetime all the same.
The water splashing on my face was ruining every inch of my makeup. But right then, makeup was the last thing on my mind.
People were shot today.
People died today.
A person. A man I’d known since forever. Who was always part of the club. Who I thought always would be.
Then he wasn’t.
Right in the sunshine we’d only just started to enjoy after too many clouds.
The chaos after the shooters had roared off was somewhat blurry, but my clearest memory was Keltan lifting me to my feet, clutching my face in his hands, eyes going over every inch of me to make sure there were no bullet holes.
Once he’d been satisfied, his eyes closed in such a physical gesture of relief that I felt it in my soul.
Then he pressed a kiss to my head.
“Get inside. Now,” he’d demanded. Now that his eyes were open they were closed off, empty. Devoid of what I thought would always be there. That spark.
I’d done what he said, mainly because it was the only thing to do at that second. Help the people, my people, who were bleeding from gunshot wounds, soothing crying children.
Inside had been more chaos. Tears. Mourning over someone else the club had lost.
My escape to the bathroom was so I could breathe without choking on it all.
I assumed it was Rosie who was opening the door. It was the women’s bathroom, after all. And I guessed she needed to breathe too. And possibly take swigs from a bottle of tequila she’d no doubt be bringing in.