Page 67 of Gatsby's Starlet
His jaw tightened at that, the words not landing the way I wanted them to. “If it’s making you upset,” he said, his voice laced with concern, “it matters.”
God, why did he have to be like this, why did he have to care in a way that made this harder instead of easier, especially when I could still feel Kane’s presence behind him, still feel thatwarning sitting heavy in my chest, choking off anything real before it could come out.
“It’ll blow over,” I said, creating just enough space between us to breathe while not fully breaking contact. “Really, don’t worry about me.”
He didn’t like that, I could see it, feel it in the way his posture shifted, in the way his attention stayed locked on me like he was weighing whether to push again, and for a second I thought he might, thought he might turn and look and see exactly what I was trying to keep from him.
But he didn’t.
Instead, his hand slid from my arm to my hand, holding it there for a second in a steady, grounding way that felt like a decision. “Alright,” he said finally, low and controlled, “but you don’t gotta deal with it by yourself. You get that, right?”
My chest tightened again, but for a different reason this time, because I already knew I wasn’t going to let that happen. “Yeah,” I said softly.
Another lie.
Because there was no way I was letting him anywhere near this, not if it meant putting him in Kane’s line of fire, not if it meant what would come next.
He watched me for another second, like he knew there was more, like he was choosing not to force it out of me right here in the middle of everything, before giving a small nod. “Just remember I’m here,” he said, then added, “You want me to come over tonight?”
I nodded, even as my gaze flicked past him again without meaning to, the space where Kane had been now empty even though I knew better, knew he wasn’t gone so much as finished making his point.
“Yeah,” I said, stepping into Gatsby, my arms wrapping around him, holding on a little tighter than I meant to. “I do.”
Because I couldn’t tell him the truth.
Not here.
Not now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I DIDN’T LIKEit.
I didn’t like any of it, not the way Evie had gone quiet on me outside, not the way she’d shut down mid-sentence like something had cut her off, and definitely not the way her eyes kept drifting past me like there was something behind me she didn’t want me to see.
And I damn sure didn’t like the way she kept saying everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.
I walked her back inside anyway, my hand settled low at her back, like I could keep things in place just by staying close, just by not giving whatever this was room to get worse, and when we stepped back into the noise and heat of the bar, everything looked the same as it had before, people drinking, talking, moving like it was just another night, but it didn’t feel the same.
Not only was Evie acting strange, but Mystic was acting weird as hell. He didn’t just show up here tonight on a whim.
“Go sit,” I told her quietly, my hand brushing her arm before I let her go, keeping my tone easy even though my attention was already moving, already tracking.
“I’m gonna grab you something.”
She nodded, a little too quick, her gaze flicking once toward Ruby before she moved that way, and that alone was enough to confirm my suspicions.
I stayed where I was for a second longer than I should’ve, watching her cross the floor, watching the way she moved like she was trying to act normal and not quite pulling it off, and then I let my gaze shift.
Slow and careful, the way I’d learned a long time ago, I kept it low-key, no head turn, no tells, just let my attention move from the bar to Chain and then to Ruby, where it locked in, because something about her was off, and my gut was already calling it trouble.
Not obvious if you didn’t know her, but I did, and the way she moved now, the way her focus snapped and shifted instead of settling, the way she kept looking at Evie and then away again like she couldn’t hold it, that wasn’t normal.
That was pressure.
And it lined up too damn well with whatever Evie had almost said outside.
“Gats,” Chain said, snapping me out of it as he slid a glass across the bar. “You good?”
