Page 9 of Fragile Lives

“Water.”

He grabs a cold bottle and passes it to me. “You won’t be mixed into anything that might cause you trouble, but if he knows, he will make sure to be in the middle since he knows the parties involved.”

“Okay, you got me hooked.” I unscrew the cap, toss back half in one go, and sit at the table. My hangovers always leave me dehydrated, so I’m always thirsty.

“You know Justin, right?”

“The asshole who treated my star artist like shit? Yeah, I know him, alright.”

Kayla, Justin’s fiancé, is my top artist. I discovered her a few years ago and paid for her classes to become a tattoo artist.The best investment I’ve made so far—she’s booked for months ahead. She is an unbelievable success considering she’s a brand-new name. Her signature phoenixes are getting well-deserved recognition around the world.

Justin did some shady shit and lost her there for a minute. She came to my house, ready for a new life. She stayed in one of my many empty rooms while she was studying and working part-time in one of my Boston locations. One day, he showed up at my place, demanding to see her. But the asshole realized she was better off without him for the time being and let her chase her dream.

I may have influenced his decision. A bit. I felt sorry for him, to be honest. He came to me looking like a beat-up, homeless dog. That’s what love does to people, and that’s precisely why I only do one-night stands. I can’t get involved with someone and go through those highs and lows since I’m already so unstable. And I can’t get anyone involved in my bullshit either.

“Yeah.” He takes a sip and chews on his lip. “Well, his sister—and this stays between us, you got it?” He finds my eyes and gives me a death stare, so I nod. “His sister was assaulted eight years ago, and no one was punished.”

“Fuck.” I wipe my face with my hands, masking my anxiety.

So, that pretty blonde I met the night I dropped drunk Romeo off went through something horrible. That’s why her eyes were permanently sad. It wasn’t only because she lost her lover, but because she’s been through hell and back.

After hearing this, I know I’m in, no matter what the hell he’ll ask.

“Yeah. So, rumor has it, Mark, her boyfriend, found them.”

“You’re shitting me.” I lightly smack the table with an open palm, too excited at the prospect of what he might do to them.

“What?” His brows arch.

“I met the guy a week ago at the bar.”

Kenneth’s lips quirk up. “You’re the Samaritan who drove him home?”

“And how do you know it?”

“It’s my town.” He shrugs and adds with a smirk, “Rory told me.”

Ah, the pretty bartender.

“Small towns.” I shake my head.

“Yep. Gotta love ’em.” He chuckles and looks longingly at the fridge. “God, I wish I could have a beer right about now.”

“You and me both. I’m not used to being sober this late in the evening.”

He gives me a once over and continues, “I have my suspicion that he and Justin are going after them tonight.”

“After them as—” I let the question hang in the air.

“To deliver justice. And that’s why I’m going. To make sure they don’t overdo it.”

“Alright. You want me to go with them.” I nod, getting excited about fixing at least one injustice in this shitty world.

“Fuck no. Two psychos are enough. I can’t rein you in as well. No offense.” He shoots me a sympathetic smile, making me cackle. “I need you to wait for us at the bar and make everyone believe we were there the whole evening. Is that doable?”

I snort. “I’m offended that I’m left out, but I can do that. The drinks will be plenty, and the table will be busy. No one will notice you weren’t there from the start.”

“Glad that’s covered. I hope they won’t go too far.”