Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2) Page 5

  “Natalie?” His deep voice reverberates through me, and I fight the urge to squeeze my thighs together. Get it together, I scold myself as I plaster a smile on my face and take a step forward, extending my hand. “Yes,” I reply, a tremor running through my small hand as he clasps it in both of his, engulfing me. I’m surrounded by his scent—a slight musk mixed with spice. It’s making me a little lightheaded, and I sway, still holding his hand. “Whoa, are you okay?” he asks, helping me inside to a seat. As he moves away to get me a glass of water, I get my first look at Daddy’s bar and it takes my breath away. It looks exactly the same as it always did. I thought for sure Shannon would redecorate when she took over; in fact, I’m a little worried that she appears to have done nothing. Is she coping as well as she makes out? I always knew my sister was close to Daddy, probably much closer than I ever was, but this is a little creepy. I always believed my sister was the strong one in our family, Little Miss Perfect. How could I ever hold a candle to her? Growing up, I was always such a hindrance to our parents. Not Shannon though, as far as Momma and Daddy were concerned, their eldest daughter couldn’t put a foot wrong. But I’m now faced with a much more daunting prospect... my sister might actually be human.

  “Here, drink this,” the beast says, interrupting my thoughts as he hands me a glass of iced water and folds himself into the chair opposite me. I swallow a mouthful before placing the glass down on a coaster. “Thanks,” I murmur, looking everywhere but at him. I don’t know what it is about this man; he’s so intimidating, as though he can read my mind without me having to say a thing. “Are you all right?” he asks, reaching out and covering my trembling hand with his own. My stomach churns and I swallow back the bile that threatens to rise in my throat. I thought I was over this damn morning sickness; the last thing I want to do is embarrass myself in front of this gorgeous man. “I’m fine,” I say weakly, pulling my hand back and crossing my arms across my chest.

  He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me, but changes the subject anyway. “So, how long are you here for?” he asks, sitting back in the chair and tucking his hands behind his head.

  I try to ignore the way his corded muscles pull tight on his arms in that position, and instead grab my water and swallow the rest of it down. “About two weeks,” I answer, putting the glass carefully down on the table and standing up. “I’m just here to help out Keets while my sister’s away. Do you know where he is?” I glance around the bar, seeing no one else. I need to put some distance between us; he’s much too close for comfort. Walking behind the bar, I locate the cups and pour a glass of water, dropping in a handful of ice cubes as I pop one in my mouth, the chill not really helping to diminish the heat he’s exuding. “What’s your name?” I ask him around the ice, still standing at the bar. “Damien,” he says, thankfully seeming to understand my need for space as he remains seated at the small, round table. I nod slowly, remembering Shannon told me something about a Damien. “Are you the only one here?” I ask, glancing around again.

  He nods. “Yeah, the other bartender, Lance, left a little while ago. You’ll meet him though.”

  “Cool,” I answer, giving him a small nod. My boobs start vibrating and I jump in fright, belatedly remembering my cell phone I’d shoved into my bra earlier. Face flaming, my eyes fly over to Damien who’s sitting there with a cocky grin on his face. “Are you going to answer your tits?” he laughs. Jerk. Scowling in annoyance, I whirl around from him as I dig into my bra and pull out my phone. “Hello?” I answer breathlessly. “Hey girl, what’s happening?” Shannon’s voice sounds in my ear. “Just wanted to make sure you arrived safely.”

  Sagging, I lean against the bar. “Hey Shan,” I say with a smile. “Yeah, I’m here and safe.” Twisting my neck to glance at Damien, a shudder of awareness runs through me. Am I really that safe? “Where are you guys?”

  “We’re at the airport now. Can you believe it? Hawaii… I’ve never even seen the ocean.”

  “You guys are going to have a great time. I’m so happy for you.” I stop when I hear Stone and Zeke speaking harshly in the background, then Shannon sighs through the phone. “I guess I’d better go.”

  “Is everything alright? Is there anything I can do?”

  “Just take care of Saddles,” she begs. “Make sure Keets doesn’t wreck it while we’re gone.”

  “I think we have bigger problems to worry about,” I mutter, glancing over at Damien. Hanging up the phone, I leave it on the bar as I run a hand through my shoulder length hair. “Hey, I remember this,” I laugh, spying the old mechanical bull sitting in the corner of the room. Walking around the edge of the bar, I run my hand over the saddle, eyeing the controls. “Do you know how to ride?” Damien asks, his voice low and directly above my ear. Whirling around, I gasp as my nose bumps against his solid chest and I have to crane my neck up to look at him. “What?” I ask breathlessly, not quite sure what he’d said. His mouth twitches with a glimmer of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by a look that’s so intense, so feral in nature, that I’m almost frightened by it. “I asked if you know how to ride,” he says, leaning forward and placing both of his hands on the mechanical bull behind me. “I’d be more than happy to teach you.”

  Is he coming on to me? “Uhh, no, thank you,” I stammer, making the mistake of looking down. There’s a large bulge in the front of his jeans, and I feel my insides quiver with an unexpected longing to reach forward and press my hand against his obviously hard cock. He hesitates for a moment, his sheer size completely dominating me. But eventually he pushes his hands off the mechanical bull and shoves them deep in his jeans pockets, stretching his tank top impossibly tight across his chest. I squeeze around him and move away from the bull, wrapping my arms around my middle. There’s something about Damien that’s dangerously powerful, like a magnet drawing me to him. I’d do well to stay as far away as possible. “So, where’s Keets?” I ask, forcing a smile.

  His mouth twitches in a vague smile and he gestures toward the office on the other side of the bar. “You can put your stuff in there,” he says cryptically. He grabs my bags and I follow him into the small office, grabbing my phone as I pass the bar once more. I’m pleasantly surprised to find a double bed set up at the side of the room. I never expected to stay at my sister’s house, but I’m happy that I don’t have to stay in a hotel. That’s just one more expense I don’t need right now. Smothering a yawn with my hand, I glance at the bed. The excitement of the day has caught up with me and all I want to do is sleep for about twelve hours. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, I kick my shoes off and stretch my toes, pulling them under me as I look up at the beast who’s still standing there, looking mighty uncomfortable.

  “Thanks.” I smile as brightly as I can manage. “You don’t have to stick around. I’ll just have a rest while I wait for Keets.”

  “Well, that’s the thing. I—”

  “Don’t worry,” I say, too tired to argue as I lie down and pull the blanket up around my chin. I’m so tired that it’s an effort to keep my eyes open. “I’ll make sure you don’t get into trouble for leaving early.” The last part is said in barely more than a whisper. I can’t be certain, but it sounds like he says something else, but by now I’m too far gone to care.

  KEETS

  I’m not certain why I didn’t tell her who I am. Maybe it’s because she was clearly exhausted, or maybe some perverse part of me secretly loves seeing her in my bed. Who knew Shannon’s sister was so beautiful? It’s not just her shoulder-length blonde hair and large, baby-blue eyes. Her pert little nose turns up like a ski jump, and if I look really closely I can see a small sprinkling of fine freckles over her cheekbones. She looks so peaceful, and a part of me wants to climb in beside her and draw her into my arms. Get it together. I mentally slap myself as I take a seat at the desk and rifle through a drawer until I find a scrap sheet of paper and a pencil. As I begin sketching, I allow my mind to wander back to the letter I wrote earlier today. I can’t
help but wonder, once again, if any of these people are going to miss me when I’m gone. Sure, I’ve known Stone for years, but every time he’s needed me, I’ve just let him down. Even back in Afghanistan the man saved my life more times than I can count. Then, we came back home and he sunk into depression and found solace at the bottom of a bottle. And what did I do? I ignored it for months and let it go on. What sort of a friend does that shit? A bad friend, I answer myself. That’s who. Stone needed me to tell him it was okay, to get him the help that he so clearly needed. And like a fucking coward, I turned away and pretended that the problem didn’t exist. Maybe it was because I was too caught up dealing with my own fucked up life, or maybe it was because I was just too damn selfish to care. Then he met Shannon, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he had hope. Having not had any hope for so many years, I can’t begin to image how it must feel. To know that someone is there for you in your darkest time, that they love you unconditionally. I had it once before, with Liz, but now darkness follows me everywhere I go. It hangs over my head like one of those rain clouds you see in comic strips. I half expect to get hit by a bolt of lightning every time I step out of my house. I know Stone and Shannon are like my family, but they have each other now, and what do I have? A beautiful woman in my bed, and she doesn’t even know who I am. I give a short bark of laughter at the irony then allow myself to zone out for a couple of hours as my hand flies over the paper, sketching the delicate lines of her sleeping face. She’s absolutely stunning, a true work of art. I sit back and survey my handiwork, nodding in approval. Leaving the paper on the desk, I stand and leave the office, heading back out into the main bar area to prepare for the night’s service.

  ***

  “Keets!”

  I smile as a regular local, Randy Barsel, takes a seat at the bar, his large stomach forcing him to sit sideways on the bar stool.

  “Randy,” I say, pouring him a beer and sliding it over. “What’s going on?”

  “Not much,” he answers, pulling the beer toward him and draining half of it before placing the glass back down on the bar. “I hear Darius’s younger daughter’s in town.”

  “You heard right,” I respond, smiling at the couple next to him as they leave. Collecting their empty glasses, I place them in the dish rack behind the bar. “She’s in the back, asleep.”

  “Asleep?” He laughs, a deep rumble that fills the bar. “It’s barely ten o’clock.”

  “You’re right.” Concern fills me, and I suddenly need to make sure she’s okay. “Excuse me for a minute,” I mumble, hurrying over to the office door. Slipping through, I close it quietly behind me and flick a lamp on. A gasp causes me to spin around, my eyes widening at what I see. Natalie is sitting in a corner of the room, a wild look in her eyes. I take a step toward her, and that’s when I see it. The blood.

  Cursing savagely, I rush to her side and gently pry the razor blade out of her hand. Where the hell did she get it from? Her luggage? Anger and protectiveness swells inside me like a balloon ready to explode, and I reach up to the desk to grab the box of tissues that always sits on the edge. Pressing a few against the wound, I use my other hand to bring her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes.

  “Why?” I whisper harshly, mentally berating myself when she flinches. I know the mental anguish of self-harm all too well. “Wait here,” I command, stepping back and leaving the room. I scour the bar, finally spotting Lance chatting up a busty, giggling blonde and her friend. An unexpected rage fills me, fuels me, and pushes me up to his side. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I growl, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around to face me. He stumbles and grabs onto the bar for support, his eyes wide in shock. “What the fuck, Keets?” he gasps, groaning when the two girls walk away. “Aw man, I could’ve tapped that tonight. What do you want?”

  “I’m paying you to serve drinks, not pick up ass,” I snarl, but take a step back so that I’m no longer crowding his personal space. “Actually, Shannon pays me,” he grins, adjusting the white sunglasses that are perched on top of his head. “You’re no better than me in this dump.”

  I snarl again, shoving his shoulder hard. “This dump as you call it, belonged to a damn good man, so have some fucking respect or I swear to God I’ll make sure Shannon throws your ass out of here the second she walks back through that door.” A couple sitting at the bar stand up and make a hasty exit, and I belatedly realize we’re not alone. “Shit, Keets, I’m sorry man,” Lance says. “You’re really messed up about something, aren’t you? I hope you know I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. I appreciate Shan giving me a shot. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. What do you need?”

  “I need you to lock up tonight,” I tell him, sighing as I adjust my glasses and run a hand over my head. “There’s something I’ve got to take care of in the office.”

  “Sure man,” Lance says, looking concerned. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Just make sure I’m not disturbed.”

  “You got it.”

  I clap him on the shoulder in solidarity before turning and hurrying back into the office. My heart stops for a second when I see Natalie is no longer in the corner. I take a cursory glance around the room, relief flooding through me when I see her back in the bed. I try to ignore the tug on my heartstrings as she looks warily at me when the mattress dips beneath my weight. “It’s okay,” I say softly, pulling the blanket down just enough to survey the damage she’s done to herself. My heart skips a beat when I see the small row of scars on the soft flesh under her arm, each about two inches long, some more jagged and raised than others. The newest one is thankfully a superficial cut and won’t require any stitches; it’s already stopped bleeding. It will, however, add another scar to her collection. My eyes move back to hers, and my chest lurches when I see the desperation written all over her face. “Why did you do this?” I whisper. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, tears falling down her pale cheeks. I tighten my grip on her arm and she cries out softly, her eyes flying open to look at me. “Why?” I ask again.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” her raspy voice chokes out, taking me aback with its quiet intensity. I decide not to push it tonight. I’ve only just met her, but she clearly needs my help. Pushing her too far, too fast, will only result in her pulling back and running away. Pulling my tank top over my head, I almost chuckle when her eyes widen in fright. “Wh-what are you doing?” she stammers, clutching the blanket tighter to her chest. “Relax.” I smile, sliding under the blanket next to her and locking my hands together behind my head. “I’m tired.”

  “You can’t sleep here,” she gasps, and my smile widens even further.

  “Actually, I can. This is my bed.”

  “Your bed?” she exclaims, sitting up and drawing the blanket around herself, eyes wide with shock. “There has to be some kind of a mistake.”

  “I can assure you, there’s not,” I answer, patting the bed beside me with a knowing grin as realization finally dawns on her.

  “You’re Keets,” she says accusingly.

  “I am,” I agree, nodding. I chuckle as she scrambles off the bed and walks backward until she bumps into the wall. I stalk toward her, expecting to see a flicker of fear across her beautiful features. Her hand shoots forward.

  “What was that for?” I laugh. I’ve decided I like her; she has a fire in her, just waiting to come out.

  "You said your name was Damien. Why did you lie to me?” she demands, two bright red splotches of anger appearing on her cheekbones.

  “I didn’t lie,” I try to explain. “Damien Keets is my name.”

  Her shoulders slump and she hangs her head dejectedly. “You should have told me.”

  “I tried to, but you wouldn’t listen.” I chuckle, easily ducking when she takes another swing at me.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, looking up at me as she smooths her hair back from her face. “Why aren’t you at your own house?”

  “My h
ouse is being renovated,” I explain, satisfied that she won’t try to hit me again as I move away and take a seat on the edge of the bed. She watches me like a hawk, her eyes wide open as she slowly creeps out from her corner of the room. “I’ve been staying here until it’s finished.”

  Color floods her face. “I-I’m sorry,” she says quietly, and all traces of a smile are wiped from my face by her broken words. “Is there a hotel nearby I could stay at?”

  My eyes widen as I come off the bed. “What the hell are you talking about?” I ask harshly, my fingers digging into her upper arms. She cries out in pain and I immediately let go, raking a hand through my short hair. “Why do you need a hotel?”

  “Well, I can’t stay here with… you,” she blurts out, her face flaming in embarrassment.

  Ah, so that’s the problem. “Natalie,” I say in a low voice as I reach out and gently caress her arm. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

  I can see her struggling to decide whether or not to believe me, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for her reply. “What if I don’t want to be safe?” she says in a voice that’s barely above a whisper. Heat floods through me, and my cock strains against the front of my jeans. Get it together, Keets. This is the last thing either one of you need. Still, the image of Natalie Harper bound and naked on my bed is almost too much to handle. “Trust me, Nat,” I tell her quietly. “It’s for the best if we both play it safe right now.” A flood of relief washes over me as she finally nods her consent, and I give her what I hope is my most reassuring smile. “Great,” I say, gathering one of the pillows and a blanket.