Page 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE BAR AREA wasn’t as loud as it usually was at night. The guys were in the back playing pool, their occasional shouts and bursts of laughter floating to our table. The mood here was quieter but no less alive. I sat at a round table with Brenda, Fiona, Amy, and Tillie, nursing a whiskey that burned just right as it warmed me from the inside out.

Brenda leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, a smirk playing on her lips. She had this air about her, like she’d seen it all and wasn’t about to take crap from anyone, least of all the women now under her charge.

“You’re not drinkin’ fast enough, Lucy,” Brenda drawled, her voice threaded with humor.

“I like to savor it,” I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Life’s too damn short to take your time with anything,” she chuckled, blowing out a lazy stream of smoke. “Especially with this lot around. Drink up, either life’ll cut you short, or Spinner will haul your ass off before you even get a second sip.”

Tillie laughed, the kind of light, carefree sound that had no business in a place like this. “She’s got a point. Spinner’s over there lookin’ like he’s two seconds away from throwin’ you over those big, broody, tattoo-covered shoulders of his.” She waggled her eyebrows and took a slow sip of her unnaturally pink drink.

I smirked but didn’t get a word in before Amy shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her gaze darting toward the doorway like she was expecting someone. Her drink sat untouched in front of her, her small hands wrapped around it like it was the only thing anchoring her.

“Rune’s not comin’ in here,” Brenda said suddenly, her sharp eyes cutting to Amy.

Amy’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked down at her glass. “I wasn’t looking for him,” she mumbled.

“Sure you weren’t,” Brenda said, her tone softening just enough to take the sting out of the jab. “Honey, you’ve got to stop mooning over that man.”

Amy didn’t respond, but her knuckles tightened around the glass. Fiona reached over, placing a gentle hand on her arm. Her quiet presence seemed to ease the anxiety that constantly hovered around Amy.

“Rune’s a good guy,” Fiona said softly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the room. “But Brenda’s right. Don’t go there if he’s not on the same page.”

“Or you could just ask him if he’s into you,” Tillie suggested, her grin mischievous.

“Tillie!” Brenda snapped, her irritation obvious.

“What?” Tillie grinned wider. “It works. If it’s meant to happen, then age don’t matter.”

Even Amy cracked a tiny smile, though she quickly hid it behind her glass.

Brenda rolled her eyes, taking a slow drag of her cigarette. “Ignore Tillie. Her advice will get you into trouble faster than a bottle of tequila.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Tillie said, feigning offense. “You could stand to take my advice too.”

“Maybe so,” Brenda shot back, though there was a hint of affection in her voice. “But don’t think I don’t know who you’re holdin’ out for.”

For the first time, Tillie’s expression darkened, but she shook it off quickly. “I’m not holdin’ out for anyone. Your imagination’s runnin’ wild.”

“Sure it is,” Brenda chuckled. “But don’t worry, nothin’ will ever come of it.”

Tillie’s eyes hardened briefly, but she masked it with a smile, taking a sip of her drink. The subject was dropped, but the rest of us couldn’t help wondering who had managed to hold Tillie’s heart captive.

The dynamic at the table was a strange one—equal parts tension and camaraderie. Each of them carried their own stories, their own wounds, but together, they created something that felt like a patchwork family. It was messy, sure, but it was real.

“So, Lucy,” Brenda said, her gaze zeroing in on me. “What’s your story?”

“Yeah,” Tillie chimed in, leaning forward with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “What brings you to our lovely little corner of the world?”

I hesitated, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “Just here for Zeynep,” I said finally.

“Uh-huh,” Brenda replied, clearly unconvinced.

“Bullshit,” Tillie added, her grin widening.

Fiona tilted her head, her gaze steady. “You’ve been through something, haven’t you?”

I stiffened, caught off guard by her kindness. It reminded me too much of who I used to be, before I learned just how cruel the world could be. “Who hasn’t?” I said, forcing a smirk.

Brenda snorted, flicking ash into the tray. “Well, you’re in good company. We’ve all got our baggage. Some of us just carry it better than others.”

“Amen to that,” Tillie said, raising her glass.

I clinked my glass against hers but felt my thoughts drift. Memories tugged at the edges of my mind, memories I refused to entertain. Survival wasn’t about looking back. It was about moving forward.

“Whatever your story is,” Brenda said, her voice softening, “you’re here now. And as long as you’re under this roof, we’ve got your back. Just don’t piss me or Devil off, and we’ll get along fine.”

I smiled despite myself, something warm settling in my chest. “Noted.”

“Ashlynn hates you,” Tillie warned suddenly, her voice breaking through the laughter. “She’s been holdin’ out for Spinner. He’s all she talks about, and him bein’ into you is driving her crazy.”

“I’m not worried about her,” I said, shrugging.

“Just come to me if she starts shit,” Brenda said firmly. “Devil counts on me to keep the peace, and after what happened with those two bitches, I get the feelin’ I might be on thin ice, seein’ how I’m in charge.”

“I already had a run-in with her. We understand each other,” I replied. “No worries.”

“Don’t take them lightly,” Fiona interjected, her soft voice carrying a weight of caution. “Jealousy can take a dangerous turn. I know.”

“Listen to her,” Brenda said, nodding toward Fiona. “I can tell you don’t take any shit, but let me handle it.”

I nodded, though I knew I wouldn’t back down if Ashlynn came at me. It wasn’t in my nature to let anyone walk over me. Still, I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

The conversation drifted back to lighter topics. Tillie cracked jokes, Brenda rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips, and Fiona listened quietly, her lips quirking up at the corners as if amused by all of us. Even Amy chimed in a couple of times, her voice barely louder than a whisper, but it was enough to earn a proud look from Brenda.

I couldn’t help but study Amy as the laughter and banter flowed around us. There was something fragile about her, something haunted. It was in her eyes—eyes that had seen too much. I’d seen it before in other women, in myself. She was a victim. Brenda was her saving grace; that much was clear in the way Amy seemed to cling to her approval.

What was her story?

Tillie’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You’re starin’ into space, Lucy. See somethin’ you like?”

“Cut it out, Tillie,” Brenda said, though her tone was more amused than scolding.

“Just thinking,” I replied.

“Curiosity can be dangerous around here,” Brenda said, her gaze steady on me. “But it can also keep you alive if you know how to play it.”

I wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a challenge, but either way, it made me smirk. “Good thing I know how to play.”

Tillie grinned. “I like her.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Brenda muttered, but there was no real heat in her words.

“Lucy,” Fiona said softly, drawing my attention. “Whatever brought you here... you’ve got people now. Just remember that.”

Her words struck something deep in me, something I didn’t even realize I was holding on to. I gave her a small nod, unable to fully trust myself to speak.

The night wore on, the guys’ laughter and pool cues clattering in the back as we continued our conversations. I nursed my whiskey, letting the burn settle in my chest, and just let myself enjoy the here and now.

But in the back of my mind, the question lingered: How long could I do that?