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Chapter TWENTY-TWO

I half grin. "Definitely."

Tyler has perched gingerly on the bar stool next to his sister and is giving the appearance of listening with one ear, but he's watching Rick as if he thinks Rick will suddenly throw me on the floor and rape me. It's making me nervous, and I spill a little beer on my way over to the table. "One minute," I say after I deliver the beer, then grab a bar towel from the table I was just polishing, drop it on the spill, then squat to pick it up.

I know that Tyler is watching every single move, and my body reacts against my will. I know he's thinking about last night, about sitting in that calm beautiful restaurant. He's thinking about the way our bodies responded to each other. I'd bet a million dollars that he's hard as a rock.

It's weirdly satisfying to stand at Rick's table, feeling Tyler's eyes on my body, and say, "What would you like?"

Rick points to the menu, but he says, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for being such a jerk. And that we have a gig at Thompson's in two weeks."

"Thanks." I hold the notebook in my hand. "The soup is really good today. Cream of potato or minestrone?"

"It's too hot for soup. You're too hot for a guy to think about soup, anyway." He touches the side of my leg, slides his hand higher up the back.

In that instant I know I'm going to lose this job, too.

Because Tyler explodes like a Tasmanian devil in a cartoon, crossing the space between the bar and the table so fast that I hardly have time to pull away with a slap to Rick's hand. "No touch-"

Tyler hauls Rick to his feet. "Out."

"Fuck you, man." Rick flings Tyler's hands away and sits back down.

I put my hand on Tyler's arm. "Stop. I've got this."

His eyes are blue fire. "Did you know he was coming today?"

"No, don't be stupid."

Now Lena has materialized. "Hey, Ty," she says in a voice that makes plain they were really, really close and maybe not that long ago. Jealousy rises like a snake in my throat. "Why don't we step away and let-"

He yanks away, reaches down and takes Rick by the arm again. "You need to go. Right now. I was there when Electra said she'd call the cops."

"Tyler, I'm fine. Let me handle this!"

He doesn't even seem to hear me as he hauls Rick violently out of the chair, which goes clattering on its side. And of course Rick came in for a fight, and now he's got it, and they explode.

I fly backward, horrified for a second, shocked at the violence in Tyler. His fists are like anvils, slamming so hard into Rick's face that I'm afraid he's going to kill him. "Tyler!" I scream, and drag on his arms, trying to stop him. It doesn't work, and I leap on him bodily from the back, my legs around his waist, my arms locked around his neck. "Stop it! Stop it." I dig my hand in his hair and yank hard.

A memory blips through my brain and flies away...My dad, my mom? Something.

Rick falls, his face bloodied beyond belief.

Tyler stops. "Fuck," he says.

Lena says, "Dude."

I slide off Tyler, pulling my skirt down. Customers have plastered themselves against the wall and I'm shaking in every muscle in my body as I pull my phone out to dial 911. "We need an ambulance at the Musical Spoon," I say calmly. Rick sits up, waving his hand. "Don't be stupid," I say, and give the address.