Chapter 36

Faye

Clive hits the bass at the same time that Marshall on trumpet digs in and throws the best solo I’ve heard in a really long time. For as much as Griz wanted to badmouth these guys, they’re some of the best jazz players I’ve ever had the pleasure of performing with. The kick of the piano riff is the perfect spot in the song to finish the number.

With soft pink ostrich feather fans outstretched above and below me, I move around the room as the spotlight follows. The satin red slip dress scoops low enough that if I tip my hips forward and bend, the audience is teased with glitter-brushed cleavage and the very tops of my rhinestone tassels. I was going for an old Hollywood look, as usual, but tonight deserved a little extra glam. In the velvet loveseats tucked into the corner, Prue and Romey shimmy their shoulders in time with the music as Marla sips her draft beer. Marla isn’t smiling, but she’s been dropping in a few loud whistles between lulls in the music.

I pop my hips toward the bar, raising my arms gracefully while the feathered fans rotate in each hand. Tonight’s song is the bluesy rendition of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good,” which is exactly how I’m feeling, knowing there is a plan in play.

When I hop up onto the bar as directed, a shot of bourbon waits for me. After the chatter about mine and Lincoln’s little show at the rodeo after party, Hadley thought it would be a good idea to add in bourbon at the end of the night.

So tonight, with the band readying the final few notes, I hold up my shot of bourbon as the jazz singer says, “Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been a wonderful audience. Cheers to Foxx Bourbon for the last round, always on them.” She tips her glass toward the door, and there he is. Lincoln Foxx, looking like a fantasy, perfectly assembled in black, with a smirk painted across his lips, and dimples pinched, doing maximum damage to every pair of panties watching. His ocean eyes are focused on the only thing he sees: me.

As I wait for the audience to tip theirs back before I follow, another familiar face in the crowd catches my attention. With his attention fixed on me, Wheeler Finch sips a glass of port, relaxed back in his seat. Alone. Hadley has been very clear that Waz isn’t allowed at Midnight Proof. He’d gotten himself in enough trouble, and she’d asked her father to keep him away. But I hadn’t expected Wheeler to be here either for some reason. I haven’t seen him at a single one of my shows since I started here.

Tonight, of all nights, seems like a bad coincidence. A cool shiver rushes up my back, and I keep my smile from faltering, actively trying to avoid looking back his way again.

Keeping up with the finale, I stand on the bar and pour my shot of bourbon with flair. As soon as the long pour goes down my throat, Hadley knows to pull the string on the back of my dress, and it falls away as I give my hips an exaggerated twerk. My hiked-high satin shorts are cut so my ass cheeks get the proper attention, while the rhinestone covers accentuate each breast, giving the crowd the finale they’ve been panting for. I move my shoulders and hips so that my entire body shimmies in time with the drummer hitting the cymbals, the trumpet carrying out the last note. It’s the kind of show that people don’t forget.

When I hop down from the bar, I move with quick steps down the hallway toward the small dressing room that Hadley converted from a storage closet. Before I can even start to unbuckle my heels, there’s a tap at the door as it opens. “Hey, Peach.”

I release a silent sigh of relief that it’s him. As he walks in, I’m smiling wide, and he doesn’t stop until his arms wrap around me and his lips press just below my ear. “Mmm, you smell like my bourbon.”

Taking a deep breath of him, I love the way it feels to be in his arms—the warm scent of toasted oak and tartness like a bourbon soaked cherry consuming my senses. It’s delicious.

“I didn’t think you would be here tonight.” I glance at the clock that reads just after midnight. “Who’s with the girls?”

“They opted for an evening with Griz to learn the harmonica. Lily told him she wanted to try to read his palm for him.” He smiles, moving his hands to my hips as he looks at me. “And I don’t like missing you out there?—”

I cut him off with a kiss, too worked up about what’s happening next tonight. Moaning against my mouth, he holds on to me tighter, kissing me thoroughly—just what I needed.

The clearing of someone’s throat and a knock on the open door interrupts, and we break apart.

“Faye, just wanted to see if we were still going to have that drink,” Maggie says confidently, leaning against the doorframe.

There’s no plan for drinks, but she’s figuring out a way to get Lincoln out of the fray. He isn’t supposed to be here, and since I’m trying to keep him away from the plan, he probably thinks he’ll be taking me home now that my performance is over.

But Maggie and I have an important task to complete tonight, one that he’ll find out about later if everything goes smoothly.

Within the next hour, we’ll be at Finch it’s the thick cologne and a twinge of cigarettes instead. As soon as the door behind me clicks shut, I realize I left my bag back in my makeshift dressing room. Without my keys, I can’t get back inside this way.

A subdued whispering whistle makes me stop mid-step as goosebumps pluck along my skin. Maggie hears it too because her fingers brush along my hand, urging me to stay quiet and listen.

Our heads jerk to the left when a voice says, “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing, little Maggie Calloway?” Waz laughs to himself as he eases himself off the wall that had been bathed in darkness along the alleyway. Shit .

Maggie stays quiet and shifts closer to me. What the hell is he doing here?

“Thought you would’ve learned your lesson the first time not to creep up on a woman, Waz.” I tilt my head, looking at him as I draw a circle in front of my nose. “That didn’t heal very nicely.”

“Faye. You should have stayed in your own slutty world. Why’d you start poking around here? I can’t figure out if Blackstone was a coincidence or if you’re as sneaky as your sister.” He circles closer, blocking the path down the alley. Tsking, his head tilts to the side as he watches us try to create distance between us and him. “Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, you didn’t learn your lesson the first time? You think I wasn’t serious when I told you if you tried to double cross me again, I’d slice you up nice and pretty?”

Maggie doesn’t say a word, seeming almost too calm, but my adrenaline rushes through my veins in a way that makes me desperate to diffuse this.

Waz licks at his lower lip, the tobacco dip that was shoved along his cheek dribbling out just after he spits. Maggie and I both tense at the sound of a switchblade opening, pulling our attention to the knife at his side.

“You try to make it look like I was stealing from Wheeler.” He moves his head back and forth slowly. “You don’t think that made me keep a closer eye on you? That beating was just for fun, girlie. We just wanted to see how far you were willing to go. Do you think Wheeler is in charge just because he shakes hands and is from this fucking town?”

“That’s exactly what I think,” Maggie bites back, her fierceness rising to the surface as she stares him down.

“That’s fine by me, Maggie. The truth is, nobody in this town thinks much of you anyway.” Eyes wide and bloodshot, he chuckles, like something wonderful just came to him. “This town likes to talk, don’t they? And they love to chatter about people who’re fuckin’. Is that what you’re doing with that Officer Cortez? You fuckin’ him?” He smiles, a creepy, slow smile that shows off his crooked teeth. “Or are you just as much a rat like that fucker, Blackstone? He bled out faster than my brother. Who knew all you needed to do was let gravity work in your favor. Could’ve saved a lot of time with the horses we need to cancel too.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” Maggie grits out.

“You say that like that isn’t already common knowledge. I don’t try to pretend to be something I’m not.” His eyes shift to me. “Like you’ve been doing, Faye.” He says it like he’s just working all of this out. That, until this moment, it hadn’t dawned on him that I’m not only here for entertainment. “Wheeler isn’t going to be happy to find out any of this. Extinguishing what’s left of the Calloways wasn’t my plan tonight, but I do love surprises.”

Another shiver rolls up my back as Waz smiles at me, but his calm demeanor is just a decoy, as a second later, he darts for my sister. I suck in a sharp breath as he grabs her ponytail and yanks her toward him when she sees him coming and tries to turn away.

Holding her against his chest, he whispers something in her ear as she screams out. Her face squints up as if whatever he said to her is causing her physical pain.

That’s when I see his wrist flick forward.

“No!” I shout as he twists that knife slowly into her side. It’s thrust all the way to the handle, right where a kidney would be.

She groans out, “Fuck. You.”

“Maggie, why would you want to bite the hands feeding you?” he croons and looks down the side of her face. “Unless you were you there that night...” he snivels into her ear, and my stomach clenches. “Did you see something you weren’t supposed to, girlie?”

I feel helpless. Her face is crunched up and streaked in tears. I know she’s fighting like hell not to give in to it. She heaves in audible breaths, and on each inhale, she winces.

“That hurts, doesn’t it? Someone toying with you? Your mama and my brother just needed to fall in line. Tullis couldn’t keep Shelby under control, so I had to step in.” Sneering, he licks up the side of her face. “I have no problem doing the hard things. Just like you, Maggie. We do the hard things.”

He rubs his groin against her, pulling a sob from her chest, just before she says, “Let go of me, you sick fuck.”

I rack my mind about what the hell I can do to stop this. I try to think of what I have on me. I didn’t have my karambit knife. My stun gun was charging. Goddamnit. I look around the space and nothing that could be used as a weapon is within an arm’s reach.

He pulls her tighter, his forearm against her chest, and runs his nose along her cheek as her chest heaves up and down. “There’s a little spot...” He pulls out the knife from her back slowly.

The guttural scream that tears from her throat has anger overpowering the fear of him hurting her any more than he already has.

Waz uses the tip of the now blood-painted knife to point just below her ear. “This is the sweet spot right around here that if you catch it just right, with something nice and sharp, a horse, a human, anyone who might not be doing as they’re told, will bleed so beautifully. It comes out fast at first, like drinking water from a garden hose, and then it runs steady with the beat of your heart.” He lets out a low whistle, just before he says, “It makes for a nice show.”

“That’s enough,” I seethe, blood boiling as my heart pounds in my ears.

He hums in response. “Is that so? You think I’ll listen to you just because you dance that tight little cunt around?”

She squints as he rubs his cheek against hers, her eyes searching mine for a way out of this. When I look down, I notice her jeans are turning darker, wetter as they saturate with her blood as he holds her. It has my heart sinking to my feet.

So I make a quick decision and say, “You jealous, Waz?”

His eyes flick over to mine. But I don’t let him answer. “Want something you can’t have?”

He shifts Maggie forward so fast, his boot meets the center of her back, shoving her off of him and to the ground just a few feet away. In the commotion of it, I try to reach her, but he gets to me before I can make up the distance.

I hear a voice calling my name, but I don’t get a chance to listen for it again, because pain explodes in my stomach and vibrates throughout my back.

Waz punches me again before I can recover, harder this time, knocking the wind out of me. He shouts in my face, but I can’t make out the words as I try to catch my breath. He grabs my jaw, pinching it so hard that pain radiates across my face. With a second of clarity and desperation, I feel behind me, trying to reach for my pocket. My fingers brush over the rock I’d put there before we left. One side smooth, while the other is craggy and purple. Its jagged edges won’t do much, but if I hit him right, it’ll startle him enough to let me go.

He spits in my face as he says, “Shoulda killed your mama that night too. Had my way with her like I kept promising. Then woulda come for Maggie next. Saving you for last. I think you’ll be the most fun to watch bleed.”

I try to move with all my strength, but his hold grows tighter every time I push against it, shouting and panting.

He glances at my sister, but I can’t see her from where he’s holding me. “Maggie,” he calls out. “I’m going to have fun with you fir—” But his words die off as I swing my arm out wide and with as much strength as I can find. I slam my fist against the side of his head, using the rock as weight and leverage.

And everything that happens next happens so fast that I can barely register it.

Lincoln screams my name.

Waz’s hands release me.

My body stutters away, barely staying on my feet as Waz laughs. “This isn’t going to matter,” Waz says as he holds the side of his head and spits out the wad of chew. “I’ve got a lot of friends in far higher places. I’m not going to just go awa?—”

Finally, that’s where his words die off. If I had blinked, I would have missed the quickness of Lincoln’s moves. Fast and precise, he swipes Waz’s knife from the ground, and with no hesitation, grips it tight and slashes the blade across Waz’s neck. My breath catches as his skin flays open as if a zipper had been pulled. Blood pours down his neck, his hand flying to the wound, just as Lincoln turns and rushes to me.

Maggie grits into her phone, mumbling her words. “Cortez. Get here now,” she says, just as Waz drops to both knees, and then face plants onto the pavement.

My hand covers my mouth on a sob, tears streaking down my cheeks.

“Look at me,” Lincoln pleads, eyes wild and full of panic. His hands cupping my face, he pulls my body toward him, and I collapse against him in a momentary state of shock. “Look at me, baby. Are you hurt?” He looks around my body, but it’s not me that’s—Oh god.

“Maggie!”