Page 19 of Riding the Line (Willow Ridge #2)

Cherry

‘Don’t you look all lovely and grown up,’ my mom gasps as I rush into the kitchen, checking I’ve got everything in my clutch bag before Levi picks me up to head into the city for Montana’s birthday.

If I’m going to make it until closing time like my bucket list expects – and not give in to the usual paranoia of overexerting myself – I’ve got to make sure I’m fully stocked on makeup to keep it topped up all night.

My mom’s eyes zip up and down my outfit – a cute, tight black dress that cuts off high on my thighs so I’m showing off my long legs – my best asset, given that my boobs and ass are practically non-existent.

I’ve paired it with some black strappy heels and a dark-red clutch bag to match my signature lipstick.

‘Thanks, Mom.’ I walk over to her and press a kiss to her cheek. ‘Hope your shift tonight goes okay.’

‘Thanks, sweetheart. Make sure you’ve got your meds with you. And you know your father can always pick you up at midnight, you don’t have to stay out as late as everyone just to try and fit in—’

‘Mom, I’ll be fine. Please, stop worrying,’ I beg as her lecture instantly has my shoulders hunching.

Still, it comes out a little snappier than I planned, and Mom’s eyes flash, probably because it’s the first time I’ve reacted that way, as opposed to holding back the frustration.

But for some reason, today I feel a little bolder.

Maybe that bucket list is working its magic already.

‘I’m sorry. It’s just—’ I stop myself to sigh. ‘I’m twenty-one, Mom. I go out clubbing all the time at college. I haven’t had a fit for two years, despite doing a lot of the stuff you tell me not to, and it’s only been me looking out for me there. I … I’m not a kid anymore.’

A weight lifts from my chest, even though my heart is rattling at the words.

‘Oh, Cherry. Come here.’ Mom holds her arms out for me. I step into her embrace, letting her squeeze me tight. When she finally releases me, she strokes my hair, long and silky just like hers.

Her eyes soften. ‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid you’ll always be my baby, and your father’s, but …

’ She sighs, a shine taking residence in her eyes.

‘I know you probably don’t need us watching over you so much.

Don’t think we don’t trust you to look after yourself, because we do.

I think it’s just ingrained into us to always be looking out for you, even if, like you said, you’re not a kid anymore. ’

She gives me another quick hug, then holds me out in front of her to admire my outfit again. ‘Now, go break some hearts at that club.’

‘I usually think long hair is kinda childish when you’re older, but on you it just looks hot.

’ The guy I’ve been talking to at the bar of the club – Clay, I think is his name – throws me an innocent smile, as if he thinks that backhanded compliment will work.

You know, tear a girl down enough that I’ll be more likely to go home with him tonight.

I take a long sip of my drink – the one I’ve been trying to make last much longer than this – to stop me from telling Clay to just fuck right off .

And to think, I’d agreed with Montana I’d try to tick something off the second half of my bucket list tonight too – her mom’s away, so she said we could stay in her guest room if I wanted to bring someone back.

Fat chance that’s happening now.

‘There you are!’ Montana bumbles into my shoulder, spinning me around clumsily to face her.

Her cheeks are flushed from dancing, as opposed to her lips which show little trace of the lipstick she had on earlier.

I can tell from the glassy sparkle in her eyes that she’s drunk on love as well as alcohol tonight.

‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you – oh.

’ Montana stops herself when she notices the guy behind us.

She raises her brows at me with a silent question, to which I give a subtle shake of my head.

Wrapping an arm around my waist, Montana drags me away, shouting behind to the guy, ‘Sorry, I need to steal my friend!’

I don’t even say goodbye, just down my drink as we head towards the restroom. Once we’re inside, Montana heads to the sinks to start topping up her lipstick.

‘Thanks for saving me,’ I say, blowing out a breath.

‘Always, girl. Anyway, I think I wanna finally go home with Austin tonight.’ She lets out a giggle when she catches my eye in the mirror – and that confirms where all her lipstick has gone.

‘Yeah you do, you little minx!’ I squeal, coming behind her to wrap her in a hug, squeezing tight.

‘I know, I know! Will you be okay getting back without me? You can obvs still crash at mine.’ She spins in my grip. ‘I don’t think I’m gonna make it ’til close, but I know you wanted to stay …’

‘Yeah, of course.’ The usual excuse of I’m getting tired and probably shouldn’t overdo it lingers in the back of my mind, waiting to be used, but I push it away with a shake of my head. ‘I can still get a lift with Levi – he was pretty keen to stay ’til the end anyway, so I’ll go find him.’

‘You sure?’ Montana checks once more, batting her long lashes at me. It beats her bringing Austin back with us and having to sit next to them in the car while they make out. Or trying to sleep in the guest room when all I can hear is her creaking bed.

‘Positive, birthday girl. I’ve got your spare key anyway.’ I pull her into a hug again. ‘Now, go find your man, be safe, and promise you’ll let me know when you get to his, yeah?’

‘Promise! Tell me when you get home too!’ Montana slaps a big kiss on my cheek before dashing out the restroom. Chuckling, I whip out my phone to locate Levi.

Cherry : Hey, Montana’s going home with Austin. Where are ya?

Levi : Course she is. I’m outside smoking. Come find me.

I filter my way through the crowded club, ducking behind a few groups to avoid the man I was talking to earlier, as I head outside.

When I finally spot Levi, smoking on his own and leaning against the wall, my chest falls slightly with relief.

No sign of his friend, Tiller, who came with us tonight, though.

There’s a few other people outside, and a couple leave as I make my way over.

I rest against the wall next to Levi, letting out a long exhale.

He chuckles, smoke cascading into the air. ‘I’m impressed you’ve made it this long.’

Levi offers me his cigarette and I shake my head. He shrugs and takes another pull, blowing the smoke leisurely away from me.

I breathe down as much of the cool summer’s night air as possible while attempting to ignore the faint aroma of smoke, letting it revitalise me enough to continue dancing for another couple of hours. ‘I’m trying to make it ’til close for once. It’s a cool club.’

The last remaining people smoking drop their cigarettes to the floor, then head back inside, leaving the two of us.

City lights cast the midnight sky with a faint glow while the soft rumble of distant cars occasionally fills the air.

I love nothing more than getting lost in the loud pulses of club music, but the few minutes of quiet is welcome.

Though, the lack of stars dappling the sky does make my heart ache a little for the serenity of Willow Ridge. And sitting in a truck bed to watch them with a certain bartender…

‘Yeah, it’s not a bad club at all,’ Levi agrees. ‘I like that they let people up on those platforms to dance. Haven’t seen that before.’

I nod with a smile, letting my eyes close for a moment. ‘Right? So cool. I wish I could dance like them. Must be fun being up there.’ No cares whatsoever as you just let your mind and body meld with the melody of the music – I bet it’s liberating.

‘Ah, you’re way hotter, though.’ My eyes shoot open.

‘Doubt any of them could give as good of a lap dance either.’ Levi twists towards me, shuffling along the wall.

His smoky breath fills up the air between us and trying not to grimace is a struggle, especially when he’s grinning at me like I’m a prize.

Instead, I just let out trembling laugh, sliding a few inches away.

‘Well, it was Montana who got the lap dance, and she’s gone home with someone else, so couldn’t have been that great,’ I joke, checking once to the open door. We’re still the only ones out here. My skin prickles, the night’s chill no longer welcome.

I’m all too aware of the way my heartrate is climbing.

‘Well, I wouldn’t have gone home with someone else,’ he shrugs and flicks his cigarette to the ground.

Suddenly, his hands are wrapping around my waist, caging me in, as his head ducks down towards me—

‘What are you doing?’ I press my hands against his chest, keeping his lips from reaching mine. My clutch bag crumples against him and his nails dig into me.

What the actual fuck?

My eyes keep flicking between him and the door as I struggle to push back at him.

But Levi doesn’t even look shocked, he just regards me with heavy, bloodshot eyes, leaning into my hands. ‘Oh, come on, Cherry. Let go for once, enjoy yourself – Montana’s always talking about how you’re trying to let loose this year.’

Is he kidding me?

‘Not with you,’ I croak.

I clench my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering. From revealing the fear coursing through me. My arms ache with how much strength I’m channelling into keeping as much distance as possible between us.

My body begins to shake.

Blood rushes in my ears.

I … I don’t know what to do.

Levi angles his head at me, as if waiting for me to give in.

To give up.

I try to think back to what I learnt in those self-defence classes but I’m so scared if I take my attention away from Levi for one second, he’ll do something worse.

‘Why not?’ he drawls, still smiling. Like he’s not even fighting to push back against me when I feel like my arms are about to give way. ‘Come on, Cherry. I can teach you a few things.’

His grip is too hungry, borderline painful. He goes to press himself into me and—

‘Ugh, get off me!’ I shout, bringing my knee up between his legs. He grunts and stumbles backwards, even further when I shove him again, dashing straight for the door.

I don’t look behind.

I just run .

The music inside the club pounds in my head, threatening to force the tears welling in my eyes to spill.

Strobe lights flash, sporadically cutting through the club to illuminate a broken exit route.

Hands slide across me as I push my way through the crowds and groups gathered along the sides of the dancefloor.

Every touch reminds me of Levi’s, my knees wanting to buckle.

But I don’t stop.

My feet scream in agony, reminding me that my black strappy heels really weren’t designed for running.

I don’t care, though. Not until I’ve forced myself through the club and the cool air bites into me.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been running outside when I finally settle into a brisk walk, giving in to my protesting legs.

The club is out of sight, nothing but midnight drenched city streets around.

I’m suddenly incredibly aware that I’m a young woman out in the dark alone, with no way of getting home.

And the only place and people I know around here aren’t safe for me anymore.

Every street I look down is filled with either too many dumpsters, dampness, or the dark.

I’ve walked away from the bustling nightlife.

I clutch my bag closer to my chest for some futile semblance of warmth, hoping it might also help keep me from crumbling.

I’m not sure how much longer I have before I fall to pieces.

Eventually, in the distance, a neon twenty-four-hour diner sign flickers like a beacon of hope.

Pain splinters through my shins as I race towards it.

Barrelling through the metal doors, I hate that I have to check around just to make sure Levi’s not here, as if this was somehow his plan all along, knowing I’d run here.

My heart almost trips over itself with the immense relief that he’s nowhere to be seen – just a couple and an old man filling the countless empty booths.

When I brush my face, my fingers come away wet and black from my mascara. I’m not sure when I started crying, but from the pitiful way the waitress behind the counter is looking at me, it was clearly for a while.

‘Take a seat, honey,’ she offers as I wipe under my eyes. ‘I’ll bring you something warm to drink.’

I barely manage a grateful smile, then make a beeline for the booth in the corner. The one that’s slightly in the shadows, where I can hide.

There’s only one person I want right now. Only one person who knows how to bring me out of the darkness. So, I pull out my phone and dial his number, a wave of calm washing through me when I hear his voice.

Metal doors blast open, hurried footsteps echoing through the deserted diner. My head shoots up from where it had been resting in my hands to find Duke scouring the diner frantically, looking like he’d raze down everything in his way until he found me.

My heart pumps faster again, completely undoing the effort I’d put in to finally calm it.

Even more when I note the tension in his muscles, bulging and shifting under his black T-shirt as he continues his rigorous search of the diner.

One fist is closed around his black leather biker jacket, veins popping underneath the tattooed sleeves of his arms.

And when his dark, unforgiving eyes land on me, everything else disappears. No diner, no noise, no relentless memories of Levi pressing against me continuously running through my head to the point of mental exhaustion.

Just Duke Bennett.

Safety .

Even from the other side of the diner I can see the way his throat bobs as he stares at me, fire still blazing in his eyes.

Every long stride he takes towards me only brings the wildness of his stare more into focus.

And once he reaches the edge of the table, his pupils are so blown out, I feel like I could fall straight into his soul.

Hot fury radiates off him, burying deep into my bones. I’m half expecting him to explode – not at me, but at whatever chain of events has put me in this corner booth, mascara smudged on the back of my hands.

Instead, he just holds out his jacket for me, waiting patiently and silently, as I shuffle out of the booth.

Then, he gently wraps the jacket around my shoulders and uses it to tug me against his chest. His heavy arms encircle me, and I let myself melt into the safety of his warm embrace.

The place where I know that if I fall, he’ll always be there to pick me up and carry me home.

Whatever it takes.

Duke rests his chin on top of my head, tucking me tighter into his solid body.

That woody, cypress scent fills my senses, slowly kneading out the tension in my body along with the way one of his hands strokes down the back of my hair.

Softly, he whispers against my parting, ‘I’ve got you, Baby Hensley. ’