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I nod and deliberately relax my body. “There is a rule here. If you come across anyone in the middle of something, you turn and walk away. You do not watch. You do not stand and stare in the fucking dark. Simply leave.”

“You’re right. I understand now, and it won’t happen again.”

I offer him my hand to shake, but as he goes to take it, I shift and drive my fist into his stomach. He folds and goes back down, making a wheezing sound.

“You think you can mindfuck me? You can’t, I live with the best. Look at what’s mine again and I will fucking kill you. This warning is a courtesy to Nixie and Ares, so we don’t have an incident report to fill out tonight.” I leave him on the ground and catch up with the others.

Clay raises a brow at me as I fall in line with him. “Problem?”

“Not anymore.”

Clay nods, understanding now is not the time to talk about it. When we get back to the house, we’ll let Vero and Kayla shower, then I will fill the others in.

Chapter Sixteen

Kayla

My bar job here at The Pit is very different to working on the island, and I am finding I want to be there more and more. I feel terrible because this used to feel like home, but now I am having to drag myself here, and I hate doing that.

Doren comes up beside me and slides a glass of water my way. “You look like shit.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

He chuckles. “I’m serious, did you sleep much last night?”

I think back to what happened last night and smile. No, I didn’t sleep much. Vero and Brawley came over to my loft, and let’s just say being the meat in their sandwich was amazing, but it left little time for sleeping. Especially when Vero wakes up with the fucking sun.

“I slept fine, and you need a haircut.”

He gives me a skeptical look that says he really doesn’t believe me.

“Well, you need a personality transplant.” He gives me a nudge, and we both get back to work.

While it’s not busy on a Wednesday night, we still have the normal crowd. I’m pouring a beer for one of our regulars, Michael, who is telling me about his children’s upcoming visit this weekend and how excited he is since he hasn’t seen his grandchildren for a few months. As he talks, I catch sight of someone out of the corner of my eye.

Panic claws its way into my mind, and I set the glass down in front of Michael harder than I intended.

No, it’s not him, I think to myself.

Surely my brain is just fucking with me. I turn my head and my vision blurs.

Aaron.

My whole body goes cold from the inside out, and my hands shake. I need to make sure. As I turn fully, I see that the man standing there isn’t him; he is older than Aaron, though he looks remarkably similar.

I twist away from him, gripping the edge of the bar as I breathe.

In through my nose and out through my mouth, just the way I was taught to ease the panic. Except my fucking body hasn’t caught up to my brain yet and my hands won’t stop shaking.

I face away from the customers and count the bottles on the shelf. One, two, three. Gin, vodka, rum. I start again, getting to nine and my chest pulls tight. The last time this happened was exactly a year ago. I thought I was past this, and yet clearly I’m not.

The noise in the bar grows louder and my vision completely blurs.

“Kayla,” Bianca says, her hand coming down on my shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” she says quietly, or maybe I just can’t hear her right because her voice sounds off. “Go out the back and take a break.”