Page 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE BASS HAD dulled, just a faint thump through the floor now. The party was still going, but here, in my room, it was quieter.

I sat on the bed, back against the headboard, a book balanced on my knees. Lucy perched on the windowsill, peeling the label off a soda bottle with her fingers.

Female voices drifted through the door.

“Did you see Chain’s face?” one of the women snapped. “He looked ready to bury me under the goddamn parking lot.”

The other woman answered, her voice angry. “You’re lucky I grabbed your arm when I did. Chain probably would’ve ripped you in two. I don’t want any trouble so keep your mouth shut from now on.”

The first one scoffed. “It’s not my fault Mystic just sat there like an ugly decoration. Like he always does. Doesn’t even talk. Just drinks and stares. Creepy as hell.”

Lucy’s hand froze. Her whole body went still.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out?” the friend asked.

“Over him? Please. He’s Devil’s charity case. Just sits in the dark with that Frankenstein face, making everyone uncomfortable. Honestly, it’s embarrassing the club even lets him near the girls.”

My stomach twisted.

“He probably thinks that girl in this room actually wants him,” she muttered. “But it’s not like she can say no.”

Lucy stood.

I touched her wrist, my eyes saying, Go. Tell them off.

She smirked. “Don’t worry. I plan on it.”

Then she opened the door.

The women jumped like they’d been caught stealing from the safe.

Lucy crossed her arms and gave them her best bitch face. “You bitches own a mirror? Because you sure as hell shouldn’t be calling anyone else ugly.”

The brunette’s mouth opened. Shut. She straightened, trying to look tough. “We didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“The hell you didn’t,” Lucy said coolly.

“Mystic is scary as hell,” the brunette snapped. “And who the fuck are you to tell me anything?”

Lucy stepped forward. “I can say whatever the hell I want. You’re just pissed that Mystic wouldn’t touch your skanky ass if you begged him. God only knows what he’d catch.”

Their faces twisted in rage.

Lucy leaned in, her voice low and dangerous. “And if I hear you talk about him like that again, I’ll do more than give you a warning.”

The brunette raised her hand like she was going to slap Lucy, but her friend grabbed her by the arm.

“Don’t be stupid! Spinner will have us kicked out if you touch her.”

The woman dropped her arm but shot Lucy a final snarl before storming off, muttering under her breath.

Lucy shut the door and turned to me, a big, crooked grin on her face.

She flopped onto the bed beside me, rubbing her temples. “He doesn’t deserve that shit, Z. He’s good. Scars and all.”

I nodded, my throat tight.

How could those women not see the man behind those scars?