Beautiful Sacrifice (16 page)

Tejon Street was busier than usual with both cars and people. Topless Jeeps full of families and young men and women were cruising up and down at negligible speeds, allowing the pedestrians to intermittently jaywalk to get to one destination or another.

Taylor was standing alone in front of the club, looking around with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Hey,” I said.

His eyes lit up. “Hey.”

“Are you ready to go in? Or are you waiting on anyone else?” I asked.

He shook his head once, his eyes pouring over me. “Just you.”

I arched an eyebrow and then gave the bouncer a nod. “Hey, Darren.”

“Falyn,” Darren said.

Taylor and I sailed through, not even expected to pay a cover. I wondered what Taylor had done or who he knew that he could bypass the line. He followed me to the same table we’d occupied before.

He looked at me differently, like we were meeting for the first time.

“Stop acting so surprised,” I said.

“I’m not surprised at all.” He glanced around the room, and then his eyes were back on me. “I’m just trying to figure you out. Want a drink?”

I shook my head.

He simply nodded, staying put.

“You’re not going to get one?” I asked.

“Nope.”

The air between us felt weird. He was a million miles away but acutely aware of me at the same time. Something was off.

“You know what? This was a bad idea. I’m going to go,” I said, standing.

“What was a bad idea?” he asked.

“Coming here.”

“Why? Are you bored already?”

“No. I don’t know. I guess I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” I sat, feeling drained.

“Yes, it has.” He looked out on the dance floor and then to me. “I guess you’re too tired to dance?”

Dancing with Taylor had been fun. Being in his arms again was tempting. But it had been too long since I hiked Barr Trail. My legs ached from my hip sockets to my toenails. I had done well with walking across the street and halfway down the block to Cowboys.

“I’m pretty tired. Aren’t you?”

He thought about it. “I guess.”

The guy who had been huffing and puffing at the summit of Pikes Peak this afternoon
guessed
he was tired? Why is he acting so strange?

“I’ve seen a lot of good-looking women in this town,” he said.

“Congratulations,” I deadpanned.

“But you’re fucking gorgeous. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Just you,” I said, staring at him like he was nuts. “I forgot to mention I’m the pariah around here.” The irony amused me. When we’d first met, I’d sought to stay away from him and his kind when, in reality, he would be more likely to get a bad reputation from hanging out with me.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Contrary to popular belief, men don’t flock to the town whore.”

His face twisted to anger. “Who’s called you a whore?”

“To my face? Just my parents.”

He seemed taken aback by my answer. “That’s crazy.”

“I agree.”

My reaction amused him.

“Any guy in this town not chasing you is an idiot.”

“Why?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what his angle was, but he was annoying me with his bizarre antics. “There is nothing about me that would justify that statement.”

“Well, for one … look at you.”

“You just said there are a lot of attractive women here, so I’m throwing a bullshit flag, a big bright yellow one.”

“That, right there. Most women don’t call bullshit. Most women are willing to forgive ninety-eight percent of it just to see if a guy who might be paying attention to them will turn out to be anything more.”

“I’d love to see where you got that statistic.
GQ
?”

“Personal experience. You, however, don’t let shit slide. I knew that the second you opened your mouth. You’re more than just attractive. You aren’t looking for someone, and you need no one. That’s hot.”

“You’re ridiculous

He leaned in, staring at my lips. “What is ridiculous is the sudden urge I have to kiss that smart-ass mouth of yours.”

“What?” I said, swallowing.

He took a few steps around the small table, stopping just inches from me. He was so tall that I had to lift my chin to look him in the eyes. Something had changed since the last time we were together. There was a hunger in his eyes, but it was absent of familiarity, lacking any emotion other than lust.

“I’ve gotta kiss you. Right now.”

“Oh. Okay.” The words were more absurd than the scenario, but I was so taken off guard by Taylor’s behavior that they were the only things I could say.

I knew my mouth was hanging open a bit, but I couldn’t snap it shut. I couldn’t move. He inched closer to me, his eyes dropping from mine to my lips and then back again.

His hands slipped around my waist, pulling me to him without a second thought, strong and confident. I closed my eyes, waiting for him, unsure if he was hesitating as a request for permission or if silence was good enough. It wasn’t until that instant when I realized I wanted Taylor to kiss me, but the moment didn’t feel right, he didn’t feel right, and that alone was enough disappointment to ruin everything we’d accomplished so far.

Taylor’s lips were warm and soft, exactly like I’d imagined. His tongue was in total control, caressing the inside of my mouth. His hand touched my cheek, his thumb gently running along my jawline and down the side of my neck, but it didn’t feel like before.

His mouth worked against mine—amazing, perfect—in a way that would make any woman beg for more. He was fucking me with his mouth before we were anywhere near a bedroom. He was telling me with each soft flick of his tongue that he didn’t just want me but needed me. All the while, he was tugging at my clothes as if the kiss wasn’t enough.

Nothing. I felt absolutely nothing.

The disenchantment was so overpowering, so disgusting, that I recoiled.

Taylor was still committed to the kiss, slow to recognize me pushing against his shoulders. I lowered my chin, pulling away from him. Then I saw Shea, the bartender, standing still behind the bar, watching us in utter confusion and disgust. Realizing I’d just proven my town-whore status after years of trying to buck the label, I did the only thing left to do. I shoved Taylor away and then slapped the shit out of him.

“What the fucking fuck?” I heard Taylor’s voice yell, but he hadn’t spoken.

“Holy ginger-licker!” Zeke said.

I turned toward Zeke’s voice. Taylor was standing next to him. The other Taylor was less than a foot from my face, and in reaction, my upper body jerked back, nearly sending me off the stool to the floor.

Taylor Number Two rushed behind me, interrupting my fall backward. I yanked away from him. I looked from left to right, as if I were watching a tennis match, in total disbelief.

“Falyn,” Taylor said through his teeth, “I see you’ve met my brother Tyler.”

“Tyler?” I asked, wiping his lips from my mouth.

“My twin brother,” Taylor clarified.

Tyler wasn’t exactly happy either. “You know her?” he asked, rubbing the bright red handprint on his cheek.

“Yeah,” Taylor said, taking a step toward his doppelgänger. “Tyler, meet Falyn.”

The moment my name came out of Taylor’s mouth, things began to happen very fast. Tyler looked at me, and Taylor swung, his fist catching his twin square on the same cheek I’d already assaulted. Both men fell to the ground, a blur of punching and grabbing.

Dalton and Zeke were happy to stand back and watch.

“Hey!” I yelled at Taylor’s crew. “Make them stop!”

Dalton crossed his arms and shook his head. “I’m not jumping in between two Maddox brothers. I want to live.”

A crowd began to form around us, and Darren rushed over. When recognition hit, a similar resignation softened his face.

“Darren!” I yelled. “Do your job!”

Darren’s eyebrows shot up. “Have you seen these two fight?”

I shook my head.

“I have. They’ll quit when they quit.”

“When will that be?” I asked, not sure who was punching whom.

“All right! All right! You’re gonna get us arrested, fuck nugget!”

The brothers stood up, bloody, their shirts ripped. I tried to remember what Tyler was wearing when I’d first seen him. I couldn’t. They were both wearing T-shirts, one white and one blue. As they stood in front of me, I couldn’t tell which one was my friend and which one I’d just kissed. It was unsettling.

I pushed past them, making my way to the exit.

“Falyn!”

A hand cupped my shoulder and whirled me around. There he was, my friend Taylor, in a blue T-shirt with red droplets around his collar and a split lip.

I sighed, touching a place near his eye that looked like carpet burn. “You okay?”

“Yes, I—”

“Awesome. I’m going home.”

Taylor followed me outside, interrupting my getaway just a few feet away from the door. “Falyn, whoa. Stop!”

Reluctantly, I stopped.

“I’m sorry, okay? I had no idea that was going to happen.”

I crossed my arms. “You have an identical twin brother. How was I supposed to know? You even have the same tattoos!”

“I told you that!”

“But you didn’t tell me you also had the same face!”

His shoulders fell. “I know. I should have told you. If I’d known you were coming, I would have given you a heads-up, but …”

“But what?”

“The twins thing. It’s so stupid, and it’s worse for us because we look so much alike. He’s just my brother. We’re not the same person. But when we’re together, it’s like we’re starring in a freak show.”

“Whatever. I’m going home.”

“Falyn.” When I didn’t stop or turn around, he caught me by the wrist and pulled me against him. “Falyn.”

I looked up at him. His features were so severe that they might even be frightening if I didn’t know him better.

“It really fucking bothers me that my brother kissed you before I did.”

“What makes you think I would ever let you kiss me?”

“You let Tyler kiss you.” His expression softened. “You thought he was me, didn’t you?”

I pulled away from him and crossed my arms, pissed that he was right.

“So … do you still want me to kiss you?”

“If I can slap the shit out of you after, sure.”

He thought about it for half a second. “I think it’d be worth it.”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile. “I’m glad it wasn’t you. It was disappointing.”

“He’s a bad kisser?” Taylor asked, amused.

“No. There was just … nothing”—I referenced the space between us—“there.”

“Huh. Now, I’m curious.”

“I’m not kissing two brothers in one night.”

Taylor looked down at his watch. “We are now four minutes into tomorrow.”

“No.”

I walked down to the street corner and pressed the crosswalk button. Taylor followed me, staying quiet until we reached the front door of the Bucksaw.

He chuckled as I turned the key in the lock.

“C’mon. Aren’t you a little bit curious?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“I am,” he said, following me inside.

I shook my head. “I don’t exist to satisfy your need for competition with your twin.”

“That’s not what this is.”

“This isn’t about you being jealous?” I asked, turning to face him. “It doesn’t bother you that you’ll be walking back to Cowboys, knowing he kissed me and you got the shaft? I don’t want you to kiss me for rivalry or ego.”

“Just to get you to Eakins, right?” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he regretted them. He reached for me. His hand cupped my shoulder, and he brushed my bangs from my face. “I am a royal fucking skag. Sorry. I’m just pissed.”

“I knew there would be conditions. I don’t want anyone holding anything over my head. I left my parents, Taylor. I can walk away from you.”

His brows pulled together. “Don’t you think I know that?”

I sighed. “I want to go to Eakins, and I don’t want something like petty jealousy getting in the way of that.”

He took a step back, his expression changing. As if his anger was just barely contained, he kept his voice low and controlled as he said, “I’m not jealous. I fucking
hate
that his mouth was on yours. I’ve never felt that heated toward one of my brothers, ever, until tonight. I’ve been trying to play this off, but whatever this is … it’s not petty, Falyn.”

I shifted. “It was just a stupid kiss, Taylor. I was overly friendly because I mistook him for you, and it piqued his interest.”

Taylor looked away, his jaw working under the skin. “I know it wasn’t intentional. Doesn’t make me feel any better.” He sighed and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna … I’m gonna go. You make me feel … not myself.”

“Okay. Well, good night.”

My casual demeanor only made Taylor more agitated, and he approached me, stopping a few feet away. “I know what I said before, but I like you.”

“C’mon, Taylor. You barely know me.”

He nodded, pensive. “Not for lack of trying.” He backed away and pushed through the door.

The turn in conversation stunned me. In an effort not to screw up, I’d screwed up. My feet slogged toward the back until I heard a quiet low voice in the darkness.

“Hey,” Chuck said from the last barstool. He took a drink from a beer can.

“Jesus!” I squealed. “That’s the second time someone has scared the shit out of me today!”

“Sorry,” he said simply.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yep. Just had to meet a delivery truck running late. Finally got everything put away. You know how Phaedra is about order.”

“Where is she?” I asked, knowing she would usually be at the café to help when a truck came after-hours.

“She’s not feeling great. I think she’s still shaken up about ole Don. His obituary was in the paper today. The funeral is on Monday. You should go.”

“Are you guys going?”

He shook his head. “I’m not. Phaedra was hoping you’d go with her.”

I brushed my bangs from my eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go.”

“She’s a little worried about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. And now, I am, too. Is that boy bleeding from you or something else?”

I sighed and sat on the stool next to Chuck. The darkness and emptiness seemed to amplify our voices.