Page 57 of Rule the Night (Blackwell Butchers #1)

MAEVE

It was a cozy place with dark-paneled walls and white lights that reflected off the old tin ceiling in one of Blackwell’s historic buildings.

We wound our way through the crowd, looking for a table, jostled every step of the way by a crowd of rowdy guys who looked like they were probably from Aventine.

Bailey turned to roll her eyes at me and I knew exactly what she was thinking: just what we needed, a bunch of rich college kids out on the town.

We were about to give up and head for the bar when a group near the back got up to leave. Bailey practically lunged for their table, no small feat in the sky-high heels she’d paired with a white bodycon dress that showed off every one of her banging curves.

“Huckleberry Twists?” Bailey shouted over the music after we’d gotten settled.

It was a signature drink in Blackwell Falls thanks to the huckleberries that grew wild in the mountains, and I was more than ready for a little liquid amnesia.

“Definitely, but I can go!”

She laughed. “It’s your birthday! Be right back.”

It wasn’t technically my birthday until tomorrow, but it was sweet that she wanted to take me out to celebrate, and it felt good to be out on the town with my bestie for the first time in weeks.

I hadn’t had an opportunity to dress up since I’d moved in with the Butchers, and I’d paired a white cropped T-shirt with a plunging neckline with my red leather miniskirt and heeled boots.

Poe’s eyes had just about popped out of his head when I’d come downstairs to leave, and Remy had let his video-game guy die without batting an eyelash as he’d stared.

Bram hadn’t even looked up.

Because of course he hadn’t.

I hadn’t bothered telling them it was my birthday tomorrow. What would be the point? It wasn’t like we were friends.

We hadn’t spoken about what had happened at the apple orchard, something I’d taken to thinking of as simply the incident, because I didn’t know what else to call the total lapse in judgement that had caused me to fuck one of the Butchers outside in broad daylight and give another one a blow job while the third watched.

I was dying to tell Bailey, but the truth was, I had no idea what she’d say, or worse, what she’d think but not say. I was in unchartered waters and I wasn’t even sure I wanted a compass.

I touched the gold collar, grateful it passed for a choker with my outfit. Bailey hadn’t been happy to see me still wearing it, but at least she hadn’t said anything.

I was bopping to a song that made me think of high school when some random guy dropped into the seat next to me.

He leaned in. “Hey!”

He was cute, with short dark hair and dimples that made him look a little boyish.

He wore dark jeans and a fitted button-down.

Gold chains shimmered around his neck, and he was exactly the kind of guy I would have been attracted to before I’d moved in with three tattooed, muscled monsters who looked like they could tear him apart with their bare hands.

“Hey.” I gave him a mild smile, not wanting to encourage the attention. I had more than enough men in my life at the moment.

“You look like you need a drink,” he yelled over the music.

“I’m good.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “What was that?”

I leaned in so he could hear me. “I’m good. My friend’s at the bar.”

His hand landed on my bare thigh. “But I’m right here.”

I lifted his hand off my leg. “No thank you.”

“Boyfriend?” he asked.

“Nope, just not interested tonight. Thanks anyway.”

“Come on! It’s Friday night! Come and sit with us.” He looked over at a group of guys crowded around a table on the other side of the room. “You can bring your friend.”

“I said not tonight.”

“But— ”

“Are you deaf?” Bailey said, returning with two purple-hued drinks. “Fuck off.”

Anger flashed in the guy’s eyes as he stood. “Fucking bitch.”

Bailey turned to follow him but I put a hand on her arm. “It’s not worth it.”

I wasn’t looking to antagonize some asshole when we were out alone.

“What a dick,” she said, taking the seat next to me.

“Agreed.”

She raised one of the glasses. “To dicks. May they forever fuck off.”

I touched my glass to hers. “Amen!”

“And to you!” she added. “Happy twenty-two, girl!”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

I was happy in the moment before I remembered June, who would never celebrate another birthday. Who would never wish me another one either. In two years I’d be older than she was when she’d died. She’d be frozen in time forever, while I kept on living.

Bailey’s mouth turned down, like she knew I was thinking about June.

She leaned in to hug me. “She’s here, Maeve.”

But she wasn’t. That was the thing about death. You could tell yourself all the nice things about how people lived on in your memories of them, in your love for them, but the truth was, they were gone and they were never coming back.

And no amount of Huckleberry Twists could ever really make you forget.