Strength In Release (The Charistown Series Book 5) Page 2

  For nearly sixteen years, her father had been sitting in a cage, unable to touch her, yet the damage he had done in the short time she knew him would define her until the day she died. Sure, Lyla Dalton was a strong, resilient, badass bitch (a title not just earned but coveted), but those attributes protected the weakness she kept hidden deep inside—the little girl who was still frightened and fractured, scared and alone. Defenseless.

  While she had lived through some pretty violent situations—such as the obsessed fan-turned-stalker who broke into her house and confessed his love with his knife to her throat (no telling what would have happened had Janie not shown up and saved the day) and the lunatic who accosted her in the alley at Danny’s on Main (thank God for Kyle and his fists of steel)—only once in her life had she felt truly vulnerable. It was after her maternal grandparents, her guardians, died in a car accident and she had no living relatives that she knew of. Until Social Services located her father, a man she had never heard of, let alone met. Apparently his name was listed on her birth certificate—surprise! Enter Mark Gruber and the longest year and a half of her life.

  Lyla shook her head and tipped back another small glass of vodka. No good will come from going there tonight. Eyes focused on her closest friend, Lyla could tuck away the small amount of softness she kept at the surface specifically for Janie and harden herself completely so she would never again have to face the weakness she hated.

  “He is not getting out,” Janie said again. “But it doesn’t matter, because even if for some reason he does, we will all protect you. That’s what family—”

  “For how long?” Lyla spat. “For how long will you and Max and everyone else babysit me? For how long will you even want to?” Inhaling deeply, Lyla lowered her voice. “Honey, listen, I know that you would spend forever looking out for me. I have no doubt about how deep your loyalty runs. The truth is, I know everyone would go out of their way for me. Christ, it’s the most unbelievable thing in the world, this family we fell into. I just… I can’t ask you all to stop living free and start looking over your shoulders. I don’t want that for you. Any of you.” Her gut churned as the words she had wanted to avoid left her mouth. “Please, Janie, if you love me the way I know you do, just let me go.”

  Janie ran her delicate fingertip over the rim of her empty shot glass as silence filled the air. She lifted her gaze, teal irises blazing. “No. Fucking. Way.”

  Chapter Two

  Patience

  “I’M HEADING OUT,” Max DeLucca shouted over Iron Maiden’s “The Trooper” before he turned down the volume.

  The other mechanics had clocked out more than an hour before, leaving Sebastian Gage and Max time to play 80s metal music—their preference—without having to justify the classic tunes to the twenty-somethings who clearly had inferior taste in jams. In the sudden quiet of the room, Sebastian heard the wisp of the rag Max must have used to wipe the grease and oil from his hands land in the basket by the industrial washing machine.

  “I’ll see you tonight?”

  That wasn’t the first time Max had said those words on a Thursday. It was, however, the first time they had been phrased as a question. The thought that Sebastian’s life had swerved so far from its axis over the past few months pissed him off. Without turning to face his friend and business partner, Sebastian grunted and kept his hands firmly on the carburetor of the classic 1986 Harley Davidson he was repairing.

  “Sorry, brother, didn’t quite catch that. Was that your confirmation grunt or your denial one? They’re all beginning to sound the same these days,” Max joked as he walked across the garage and placed himself front and center, where Sebastian could no longer ignore him.

  With his hands steady on the cycle’s innards, Sebastian inhaled deeply before lifting his eyes to his friend. “Yeah, I’ll be there—if you’d stop gabbing long enough for me to get this done.”

  Max whistled. “You are a ray of fucking sunshine, Gage. Anyone ever tell you that? Christ, been back from my honeymoon for five days and you’ve managed to suck the glow right out of my system.”

  “Talk to your wife.” Gage snickered. “I’m sure she’ll suck it right back in.”

  Max arched his brow. “I bet she will. That said, I know you have a shit-ton going on in your life right now and you’re trying to work it out. I get it; it’s a lot to deal with. You know I’ll have your back, I will fight your war, but you talk about Janie like that again and I will knock you out. We clear?”

  Sebastian had crossed a line. It was a dick thing to say and he knew it. He nodded and dropped his gaze back to the Harley. “Clear.”

  “We’ll get your shit sorted, I swear. See you tonight, buddy,” Max called over his shoulder as he left the garage.

  “Yeah.” Sebastian huffed. “Sorted.”

  Using the remote control to the sound system, he scrolled through his playlist until the opening chords of his second favorite Guns N’ Roses song ripped through the garage. Closing his eyes, he pulled in the first of several deep, cleansing breaths. The guys at the garage and the bar poked fun at him for being a six-foot-four man of muscle who practiced Zen breathing and meditation, but what they didn’t understand, what only Max knew, was that like the Hulk, losing his temper wasn’t an option. He had lost it once—years ago. The outcome was bad, the ramifications could have been ruinous. But the lesson was learned.

  At thirty-nine years old, he knew exactly what he had to lose and, more importantly, what he had to gain. As crystal-blue eyes, full lips, and a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude filtered through his mind, Sebastian pulled in another breath—in through his nose and out through his mouth. The sound of Axl Rose crooning about “Patience” released the tension in his gut. Max was correct—things would get sorted out. There was no other option. Carla would be gone from his life forever, and Lyla would finally be his. Just a little more patience.

  As a sense of tranquility eased through his veins, Sebastian grabbed his cell phone and tapped in what had become a familiar phone number.

  “Ethan Rhodes. How can I help you today?” Professionalism was always evident in the realtor’s voice.

  “Just checking in to see how my house is doing?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry to tell you this”—he sounded not sorry at all—“but that house was taken off the market just this morning by the owner.”

  Exhaling, the first smile in weeks stretched across Sebastian’s face as what felt like hundreds of pounds slid from his shoulders.

  “I know you were set on that place, but I can certainly look for something else in the same area if you’d like?” the realtor offered.

  “No, you got me exactly what I wanted.”

  Charistown’s finest realtor chuckled. “Something told me that would be your reaction. Have a good night, Mr. Gage.”

  “Cut the formalities, Ethan, we’ve known each other since the Play-Doh eating debacle in kindergarten. Our business is done now, so drop the mister shit.”

  A beat of silence bounced between them before Ethan spoke. “Okay then, Gage, on the level… I’m not sure what your game plan is, but you may want to light a fire to it. Ms. Dalton took her house off the market under duress. Off the record?”

  “Of course, man, same way the whole Play-Doh thing hasn’t left my mouth in more than thirty years.”

  Ethan chuckled. “I’ve never even shared that story with my wife. Anyway, Ms. Dalton was practically dragged into my office by her friend, Mrs. DeLucca. Ms. Dalton told me to remove her listing from the sites but not get rid of the paperwork. Do you catch my drift?”

  Oh yeah, Sebastian understood loud and clear. He had work to do, but with Lyla officially staying put, he could stop wasting time out-bidding possible home-buyers and start focusing on the woman herself. “Thanks for your help. I know what you did was treading an ethical line.”

  Ethan grunted. “Treading? No, man, what I did was completely wrong and in most ways illegal. But after how you’ve helped me in the past, it was the least I cou
ld do. The rest is up to you. Good luck, buddy.”

  Sebastian slipped the phone in his pocket and stood in his empty garage. Maybe Max and Axl Rose were right; things would sort out if he had “Patience.”

  Chapter Three

  Bigger Men Than You

  “FINALLY, EVERYONE BACK under the same roof. Makes an old man’s heart happy.” Danny Marcus’s whiskey-roughened voice boomed through the thick crowd that frequented the bar on Thursday nights. It was the first time in more than a month that the whole gang had been together at Danny’s on Main. “It’s one thing to hear from each of you that the honeymoon was great,” Danny said, facing Max and Janie, “and another to see you both looking so damn happy. Wanna see the pictures from your trip.”

  “Yeah, umm—” Max’s wolfish grin had Janie blushing.

  From behind the bar, Ryan barked out a laugh as he pointed between the newlywed couple. “Judging by the looks on those two, I’m thinking the pictures they took may not be up for public consumption.”

  “Ryan, I love you, but you’re a pig.” Ashley swatted her fiancé playfully, her lips curved in a mischievous smile. “I mean, Aruba does have a huge volcano. Who knows, maybe they saw an eruption.”

  “If there was only one eruption”—Lyla arched her brow and grinned—“I’ll be severely disappointed.”

  “Jeez, of course there was more than one eruption. I mean, have you seen my man?” Janie said.

  Max leaned down and whispered something in his wife’s ear that made her face flame, and the group burst out into peals of laughter.

  Lifting her shot glass, Lyla looked at each of her friends, “To many erections, eer… eruptions.”

  The roar of amusement that followed her toast warmed a small spot in her chest. A place that, until just then, had been cold for weeks. Fuck, she’d forced herself to forget about the warmth, affection, and unconditional love these people gave. Her family. She’d tried to isolate herself in order to make the break easier, but goddammit, there was no such thing as easier when it came to leaving her family.

  “How long did you think you could ignore me, Ly? Did you think I was just gonna let you slip away unnoticed?” Kyle rested his glass on the bar to Lyla’s right, just out of earshot from the rest of the group, and wedged himself against her side, seemingly not giving the first fuck who he pushed out of the way.

  A guy next to them opened his mouth to complain, but he clearly thought twice when his head tipped back to find the imposing figure before him was none other than Kyle Marx, part bar owner and reformed bad boy. The patron wisely closed his mouth before giving Kyle a wide berth.

  Lyla, on the other hand, knew her friend well enough to know his bark was worse than his bite—most of the time—so she stood her ground and spoke the lines she’d been rehearsing for days. “I’ve been locked away writing trying to meet the deadline for this book. Tens of thousands of women are waiting to see how my hero rescues the heroine from the Island of Eternal Death.” Lyla grimaced as the words slid from her mouth. Her thoughts temporarily distracted her from Kyle and the way he stared at her with knitted brows and an all-knowing look.

  “Tsk, tsk.” Kyle slowly shook his head. “Amazing.”

  “What?”

  “It’s amazing how you can craft stories that hit every coveted list, but you still can’t lie worth a damn. But you know what? I’m gonna let you have that play tonight because you’re here with us, actually here for the first time in too goddamn long. Enjoy the night, Ly. You deserve it.”

  Relief slammed into Lyla. A reprieve, no matter how temporary, was something she’d grab with both hands. After all, it wasn’t as if she had mere skeletons in her closet. No, she had monsters. And there was no way she’d unleash those nightmares on the people she loved. Hell, she didn’t even let those demons out in her books, and she knew damn well that readers would go apeshit over dark reads like her life story.

  Her relief was short-lived though. Kyle’s large hand covered hers and squeezed. “The conversation is tabled, not adjourned. Remember that.”

  Lyla closed her eyes as Kyle leaned in and placed a kiss to her forehead. The contact was warm, familial, and over before her eyes opened.

  “I gotta head to the back bar to switch places with Ando. He’ll be behind the front bar for the rest of the night.” Kyle smirked. “You know that kid thinks the sun rises because you breathe, right?”

  “You mean it doesn’t?”

  “Damn, I’ve missed you.”

  ***

  SEBASTIAN STOOD IN the dimly lit corridor that separated the front and back bars as he observed his friends. He had arrived only a few minutes earlier and came to a halt when he saw Kyle and Lyla engaged in what looked like a private conversation.

  Crossing his arms, Sebastian awaited Kyle’s approach. “When I see you that close to her—whispering in her ear, kissing her skin—I’ve got to physically remind myself not to kill you.” He thumped Kyle’s chest. The animosity that had once been a living hatred was nothing more than a memory between two friends.

  “Funny,” Kyle responded. “When I see how long it’s taking you to stop pussyfooting behind the scenes like a wuss and actually man up with her, I wonder why the hell I was so damn scared of you.”

  “You must have a death wish, Marx,” Sebastian growled, straightening himself to his full height. “Bigger men than you have called me less and landed their sorry ass on a stretcher.”

  Watching Kyle’s eyes crinkle with amusement at his threat confirmed exactly what Sebastian already knew—old wounds were healed and their new bonds were stronger than either of them could have ever predicted.

  It took nearly all of Sebastian’s concentration not to laugh when Kyle clapped his hand on Sebastian’s arm, his mouth curled up in a shit-eating grin, and said, “First of all, friend, my death wish days are long over. Sorry to say, you missed your shot. Second, while I have no doubt that you could—how did you so eloquently phrase it? Oh yes, ‘put my sorry ass on a stretcher’—I know you will do no such thing because you and I have a common goal.” Kyle thumbed toward the main bar. “It’s the short, sassy, stubborn woman sitting at the front bar and smiling a real fucking smile for the first time since April. So how about we quit this little make-out session we got going on, you finally stop your stalking, and go be the tough guy with the badass moves all the chicks used to brag about. I have a feeling she’ll give you a run for your money.” Kyle ran his hand over his jaw. “But, Gage, know this. No matter how good things are between us now… you hurt her, the stretcher will be coming for you. “Have a good night, bro.”

  “Fuck, sometimes I wish I did kick your ass when I had the opportunity.” There was no malice to Sebastian’s words. How could there be? They both spoke the same language.

  “Aww, Gage, I love you too, man.” Kyle chuckled as he edged past Sebastian toward the back bar.

  “Better watch your ass. I’ve been known to have an involuntary fist reflex. Just sort off pops out every so often without my control.” Hearing Kyle’s laugh made Sebastian smile as he made his way to the front to join Max and the rest of the gang.

  Chapter Four

  I’ll Go Wherever You Take Me

  BANTER WITH THE girls was another thing Lyla had missed in the months since her attack and in the weeks since her decision to move. Even if she was the focus of the teasing.

  “Seriously, you see the state of her refrigerator when she’s trying to make a deadline.” Janie laughed.

  That state was empty with the exception of Gatorade, condiments, and leftovers of whatever food Janie dropped off daily. Lyla rolled her eyes while smiling as comfort breathed life into her hollow body.

  “I still can’t believe you were able to keep your writing a secret from us for so long,” Julie stated.

  Lyla sipped her drink, unwilling to give details about why she’d kept that particular secret. Fact was, after the attack in the alley in April, she’d withdrawn from everyone, making them ask questions about her. With he
r past bleeding into her present, she needed to let go of some of her secrets in order to buy herself space, seclusion… peace. Letting her friends in on her career seemed to be the only way.

  “I kept telling her you girls would go crazy over her stories.”

  “Yes, she did,” Lyla said, looking first at Janie then at the other women. “But I needed to wait until I was ready.”

  Janie wrapped her arm around Lyla’s waist and kissed her cheek. “I love you,” she whispered loudly.

  Both Ashley and Julie repeated the sentiment.

  From the corner of her eye, Lyla caught Ryan’s face split into a wide grin as he looked in a different direction. “Are my eyes deceiving me? Is it possible that you’re actually coming up to the bar tonight to order your drinks instead of sitting in a dark corner commanding them with your glare?”

  “Bite me, Ryan.”

  Three words. That was all it took for the fine hairs on Lyla’s neck to tingle with awareness. She hadn’t seen Gage enter Danny’s on Main and wasn’t certain if he would show up at all. She’d refused to inquire about him with Janie or Max—their meddling was the last thing she needed. Just because she’d taken her house off the market didn’t mean she was staying put in Charistown. It just meant she was biding her time until she’d made a better plan. If Janie thought Lyla was truly interested in Gage for more than a quick fuck—which she was not—the girl would be relentless.

  That said, nearly two years of ogling Gage from afar was beginning to wear her down. The man was her muse in practically every story she wrote. God, his voice—so damn deep and rough. The way his scent—cedar, leather, and hard man—seemed to linger on her skin whenever they stood close to one another. Gah! Her entire body went on high alert when he was near, and it seemed to take longer and longer to get over his presence each time they parted. After Janie and Max’s wedding, she’d sworn his scent lingered on her skin for days. And that was from just a walk down the aisle and a couple of dances.