Mended (Connections #3)

I ignore him and hop the rail in front of me, jumping the four feet between levels and crossing the floor to reach her. The ass**le still hasn’t let go of her, even though she clearly wants him to. He’s about my build, but I know I could take him in a heartbeat. I grip both of his shoulders and pull him back, yanking his hands off her body.

“What the f**k?” he yells.

“Don’t touch her like that,” I growl, seething.

He looks at me, a little surprised, and flashes a mouth full of brilliant white teeth my way. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” is all he says. Then he turns and shuffles through the crowd without a word. That was easy enough.

I look into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She nods but looks a little shaken.

“Come with me.” I take hold of her arm and step toward the stairs.

“Let go of me!” She tries to yank her arm away.

I flip around and lean close to whisper in her ear, “I will after I talk to you.” I slide back and my eyes narrow in on her.

“Fine,” she says, relenting. “But I could have handled him myself.”

“It didn’t look that way,” I mutter, again turning and leading her to the second floor, where I saw tables and chairs earlier. I indicate a chair with a dip of my chin and she sits. I do the same.

“I was just dancing with him. He owns the club, and besides, we were only talking.”

“I don’t care who he is. And it didn’t look like he was just talking. It looked more like he was trying to take you in the back room.”

“Even if he was, it’s my choice if I go. Not yours.”

I nod, because that’s all I can do. Fuck, I knew I couldn’t do this. I knew Ivy joining the band was something I wouldn’t be able to handle. I lean back in my chair and my gaze spears her, but words escape me. Fuck, I want her to choose me.

“What do you want from me?” she asks, with more pain in her voice than I’ve ever heard. I want to say you, but first it’s time to come clean.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Ivy, I want to explain everything to you. I want you to listen and really think about what I’m going to tell you.” I’m nervous as hell about telling her the truth, because if she doesn’t believe me it could undo the relationship we’ve built in the short time we’ve been together on tour. And if she does believe me but doesn’t care—well, that’s what scares the shit out of me the most.

She’s fidgeting. First clasping her hands together, then moving the candle around in the middle of the table. She blows it out, then looks at me. “Xander, I don’t need the dramatics and I really don’t need to talk about you and Tessa, or for that matter, you and Amy or any other ‘friends’ from that circle.” She air quotes the word friends and I know seeing Amy with me must have stung, but it wasn’t like that. It’s not like it carried on from high school to now. We met back up years after high school, and it was more of a convenience than anything else for the both of us.

I take her chin in my hand, and even after all the alcohol her eyes are crystal clear and piercing. I take a deep breath and go for it. “That’s just it. It wasn’t what you thought. That night we were supposed to meet at my grandparents’ . . .” The music suddenly stops and the lights turn on, cutting off my words. There’s a commotion from below and I stand up and look downstairs to see what’s going on.

“Stay here!” I tell Ivy.

Her eyes flip to mine. “What’s the matter?”

“Just stay here. Leif must have pissed off the wrong person.”

The stairs are a few feet away and I take them two at a time. When I reach the bottom, three brutish dudes, each weighing at least two hundred seventy pounds, approach me and clutch my arms, dragging me into the back storage room.

“What the f**k?” I yell.

They stop just inside the door, and I look around to see where I am. The room is lined with boxes, some tossed, some stacked, some filled with empty liquor bottles—it’s a f**king mess.

The brute with a studded black leather belt cinching his jeans stands in front of me and smiles. He’s missing a tooth and another one is capped in gold.

“What the f**k?” I yell again, trying to break away, but I can’t.

“You need to learn some manners,” he hisses.

I swallow hard and take small breaths as the two of them hold me and Missing Tooth swings at me. His fists are like sledgehammers as they hit me. My face. My chest. My stomach—fuck, that hurt.

“Leave your hands off a guy when he’s making his move on a chick. Got it?”

“Who are you?” I ask, just f**king curious as to why an owner feels the need to sic his bulldogs on patrons of his bar.

“The question is who do you think you are?” he grunts.

I don’t answer but instead spit on the ground. Probably not the best idea. The bald guy punches me one more time in the gut. With a murky laugh, he says, “Get him out of here” to the guys holding me.

It happens in unison. They both tug my arms and drag me back into the bar. Before they drop their hold, the ass**le with the lip piercing says, “You heard him. Get the f**k out of here and don’t ever come back.”

My eyes swivel around, looking for Ivy, and I make a move to head back up the stairs. I’ve decided to keep my mouth shut not because I’m worried about what they might do to me but because I need to find Ivy.

“I said get out,” one of them growls as the other moves to stand next to him.

“One on one, dude—just you and me,” I hiss back.

“I don’t think so. The owner wants you out and I hope you got his message. Oh and he already removed that hot piece of ass himself before he ran into your posse.”

I try not to let him see me flinch. He motions to the bar, where Leif is getting the shit kicked out of him by some other dirtbag who probably weighs twice as much as him. People near the bar are scurrying out of his way.

I hear the dirtbag scream, “Tell your friend she might want to think twice before being a c**k tease again.”

Breathe, I tell myself. I need to find Ivy, and the only way to do that is to stay calm and get the f**k out of here.

I put my hands up in surrender, though it kills me not to kick the shit out of these guys. “I’m leaving. Call your friend off mine and we’ll get out of here.”

The one with the dark hair that flops in his eyes smiles, and I want to rip his teeth out of his mouth. He whistles and the dirtbag looks up. He slices his finger across his neck and eyes me, pushing me to the door. I turn and just as I approach Leif, the dirtbag shoves him at me. “Don’t forget this piece of shit.”

“Fuck. We can’t just leave,” Leif coughs out.

“Shut up. Now,” I hiss under my breath and exit the door with Leif by my side.

“Xander, what’s going on?” Garrett yells to me from just outside the door.

My eyes search for Ivy as the fury builds within me. If she’s not out here I’m going to kill those bastards. When Garrett jolts toward me to grab Leif, I spot her sitting on the curb. Rushing over, I jump in front of her as cars honk for me to get out of their way. I take her hands, pull her up, and move us to the sidewalk as my eyes scan her from head to toe. “Did they hurt you?”

“N-o-o,” she stammers.

“Are you sure?” I ask, caressing her cheek.

She looks at me and her fingers touch my lip. “I should be asking you that question,” she says with tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

I pull her to me and tuck her head into my shoulder. “What are you sorry for, baby?” I ask.

“I shouldn’t have said yes to dancing with that ass**le,” she cries.

“Ivy, are you all right?” Leif calls out.

Hearing Leif’s voice, she pulls away from me and turns around. Running to him, she takes his face in her hands. “Why did you go back in after they asked us to leave?”

Even though he’s bleeding and Garrett’s holding him up, he manages to babble, “Because I had a chick waiting for me.”

She shoves his shoulder. “You’re a dumbass.”

He laughs. “Yeah, you’re right, but one minute some hot piece of ass has her hands in my pants and the next I’m getting the shit kicked out of me. Talk about a c**k block,” he says, looking down at his open zipper.

“You okay?” I ask, surveying him for anything more than superficial wounds.

“I was better with that chick’s hand wrapped around my dick.”

“Leif, you’re so drunk. Are you sure you’re okay?” Ivy asks, placing his other arm over her shoulder.

His tone sobers instantly at the sound of concern in her voice. “Yes, I’m fine. What happened, anyway?”

She’s suddenly more composed, wiped clean of emotion. She’s the same resilient, undaunted girl she always was. She takes his arm over her shoulder and tells him about the guy she was dancing with. I don’t need to relive it, so I turn away and call the driver. “Yeah, Scott, we’re ready to get out of here.”

• • •

Every inch of me is tense and the pressure in my chest keeps increasing. It’s eight thirty in the morning and I’m standing outside her door. I didn’t sleep all night. I got up way too early and went for a run in a useless attempt to push thoughts of her aside, but I couldn’t—I have to talk to her. When I knock she doesn’t answer, so I keep pounding, louder and louder. She finally cracks the door open, leaving the chain on it.

“Xander, what’s going on?” she asks in a low croak.

“I need to talk to you.”

“It’s a little early.”

“Just get dressed and meet me downstairs in the coffee bar.”

“Fine, give me thirty minutes.” She huffs loudly and slams the door.

Her favorite drink was always a vanilla latte, so I take a chance and order her one. I grab myself a coffee and down a red-eye. Leaning over the railing, I think about us and wonder how different things might have been if I’d told her the truth way back when. The line for coffee grows as the room starts to fill with people, but I spot her as soon as she enters the atrium. She looks incredible—white shorts, a tight red tank top that hugs her body in just the right way, and some kind of black wedge sandals. The sight of her makes my pulse race so fast that my fingers are trembling.

She enters the coffee bar just as I turn around. Spotting me, she walks slowly. Her gaze is fixed on mine and for a moment her face is soft, calm even, but the closer she gets the more unflappable she becomes. When I reach out to offer her the latte, she smiles and takes it.

“Vanilla,” I tell her as I run a nervous hand through my hair.

“You remembered,” she says with the first genuine smile I’ve seen cross her face.

“How could I forget? We drank our way through late nights and early mornings with them.”

“Do you still drink them?”

“No. I changed to regular coffee. Couldn’t take the sweetness after a while.”

Her fingers touch my lip, and my body comes alive. “Does it hurt?”

I c**k my head and press back my smile. “No. Not at all.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, again I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have danced with that ass**le.”

“It’s worth a lot.” After a few seconds of silence, I add, “I checked on Leif and he’s actually fine.”

“I know. I checked on him too.” She clears her throat and the easy back-and-forth of our conversation is over. She takes a sip of her latte and asks, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

My brain is warring with my lips to keep me from leaning down and kissing her as she licks the excess froth from her mouth.