What the Heart Takes (31 page)

Letting her eyes wander over the image, she noticed a heart pierced by three swords. The dismal image seemed to whisper words to her soul—words of heartache, pain, and suffering. Each one described Layne’s current state of mind. She flipped it over to look at the back when she found a message in permanent marker.

Guess you’re not the only one who can take off for Cleveland. Was going to tell you, but I figured this note would suffice.

~L

“Damn it,” she mumbled, lifting her eyes to her husband. “He shouldn’t be out there alone, Dylan. We still don’t know if anyone’s looking for us. What if someone sees him? Worse, what if has a wreck? He’s been drinking.”

“Heaven, he’s a grown man—”

“He’s my Keeper. I have to help him.” She watched him fight with the anger brewing inside him. He didn’t want to look for Layne, mainly because he feared what he would do to his friend when they found him. Yet he hadn’t forgotten the promise he made to her, the promise he intended to keep.

“Even if we go looking for him, there’s no guarantee we will find him in Cleveland. It’s a decent-sized city. We wouldn’t even get there until midnight.”

“It wouldn’t matter if we didn’t get there until three in the morning. We have to go. And don’t worry about how to find him. I can sense his energy, Dylan. All we have to do is narrow down his location.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“Easy,” she assured him, digging her phone out of her pocket. “All we have to do is use the GPS signal on his phone.”

* * *

A collection of raindrops gathered on the windshield of Heaven’s mother’s car. The nearby fluorescent lights hit each drop just right, giving it a kaleidoscope effect. At least it did for a few minutes. The wipers swished across the glass, removing the rain from their view.

Staring at the neon sign across the road, Heaven read the bright blue words to herself.
The Last Resort.
What a name for a bar, but that’s what it was, nonetheless. She wasn’t surprised to find Layne somewhere drinking, or that it would be at one of the busiest bars in the city—a bar that was notorious for having fights break out every night. As frustrated as he was, he’d be the one starting one tonight.

Her stomach did a somersault, causing the baby to kick. She caressed the tiny ball that formed above her navel, a tiny ball she assumed to be her child’s foot or elbow. Slow, deep breaths helped her steady her heartbeat from the stress of the evening. It did little to help relieve the stress of knowing she had to go inside a bar at eight months pregnant to get her Keeper.

As she played with one of the buttons on her coat, she fought with her anger, trying not to let it rule her head. The fact that Layne took off without a word upset her, but not as much as knowing she was the reason. It wasn’t Faith or the baby. It was her, his duty to her, and the connection that came along with it.

The pull of Dylan’s energy had her gazing across the car to the driver’s seat where he sat facing the bar. He stole a glance at her a second later, pressing his lips in a thin line. He wasn’t happy that they were out looking for Layne either, yet he felt as guilty as she did. It was his decision to leave Layne in the dark about their trip. This stint was the repercussion of that choice.

“God, I know this place. A bunch of us stopped in one night after a show.” He flashed his eyes back to the building and then to her once more. “What are my chances of convincing you to stay here while I go get him?”

“I think you know the answer to that. He’s upset with both of us. If you go in there by yourself, he’ll just leave. Then we’ll have to track him down again. Besides, wouldn’t I be safer with you than sitting alone in a car?”

His eyes closed. He nodded a moment later and released his grip on the steering wheel. “This is why I have such a hard time with him. He won’t listen and he won’t think before he acts. He just does what he wants and worries about the fallout later. He always has, but it’s your life at stake this time, not his selfish needs.”

“You have a point, Dylan, but remember, you haven’t been accepting of him and our connection. This is his way of reacting to it. Please, remember that when you deal with him. Underneath the tough exterior is a man who has a big heart. My sister has crushed it, twice. We’re his closest friends. We have to be there for him.”

He tightened his jaw before blowing out a breath. As much as he didn’t want to let go of his anger, he did so for her sake. “Know one thing. Your safety comes first. I will risk everything to keep you safe, including my life. But I made you a promise. I’m keeping it this time. If that means we go in there and drag him out by his hair, then that’s what we’ll do. Just say the word.”

An image of Dylan dragging Layne by his hair ran through her mind. She couldn’t contain the chuckle that left her chest or the happiness in her heart when he smiled at her. He zipped up his jacket and opened the driver’s side door afterward, and that’s where they left the conversation. Nothing more needed to be said that couldn’t be felt, or expressed with a kiss. A kiss is exactly what he gave her the minute he opened her door and helped her out.

As they crossed the street, she searched her surroundings. Most of the businesses were closed, except for a few other bars on the strip and a café on the corner. They passed an alley as they drew closer to the building. Their steps fell in rhythm with the beats pouring from the bar, beats that could be nothing other than a live band.

“Great,” he whispered. The steam of his breath blew around them as they reached the door. “Live music in a place like this is usually a recipe for disaster.”

“Which is all the more reason to find Layne and leave before something starts. This place is notorious for drunken brawls.” She didn’t doubt it’s the reason Layne chose it, especially if he’d been here before. With the amount of rage flowing in his energy, he wanted someone to pick a fight with. It would give him an excuse to unleash his fury. Not that he needed an excuse.

Once she stepped inside the door, the music blared in her ears. Guitar riffs accompanied the sultry beat of a song she swore she knew. She couldn’t think about which one when finding Layne in the sea of bodies promised to be a challenge.

Dylan remained less than a foot away as they maneuvered through the people. Most were so drunk that they barely knew they were there, much less anyone else. The band performing caught her attention for a brief second. The dim lighting made it difficult to see who they were, though she’d like to know if it was one of the bands she and her sisters went to see during their junior year of college. Maybe that’s why the song sounded familiar.

Inch by crowded inch they moved about the bar, dodging carefree patrons, high on life and liquor. One man came close to elbowing her belly when they passed by. Luckily, Dylan was on alert. He curled his arms around her, pulling her out of the way as the guy stumbled back into the bar.

“Are you guys okay?” He had to yell the question over the music, but the caress of his hands said enough. He was worried and not the least bit afraid to tear someone apart if they hurt her or the baby.

Squeezing the arm that held her close, she nodded her head and pulled him forward. The last remaining section of the bar was the far left corner, not far from the stage. A few tables were spread sporadically around the area. Some had people; some didn’t. Some were lined with empty glasses and beer bottles. Most of the patrons were out on the floor, rocking to the music. She wanted to do the same, wanted to shake her hips each time she heard the bass drum.

When they made it to the last table, disappointment welled in her heart, along with fear. Layne was nowhere in sight, even though she felt his energy as if he were standing beside her. Each anger-filled vibe increased with the tempo of the song—and the riffs—and the beats.

The heat of Dylan’s body drew her attention back to him. He gazed over the dance floor, his eyes roaming the faces in the crowd, lingering on none. He had enough time to take another sweep before he leaned over her shoulder, near her ear. “Are you sure he’s here?”

“Yes,” she yelled, still looking at the crowd. She hadn’t given up on finding him. He was there. Close—really close.

She concentrated on the pull of his energy, allowing her soul to guide her to his. Strangely, she kept facing the front of the crowd. Finding him there wouldn’t be a surprise. Nothing but women lined the edge, dressed in low-cut shirts and skirts so short they made Faith’s attire look like her Sunday best. If Layne needed a distraction from his problems, she didn’t doubt one of the women would be more than happy to help him.

Why were there so many people on the dance floor? The band wasn’t all that great. They weren’t particularly horrible either, but nothing comparable to Sliders, which would have this place more than crowded. It would be packed. This band wasn’t as good as Dylan’s band, not even close, yet the crowd couldn’t get enough. If people looked better after drinking, did music sound better too?

A rush of heat spiraled around her, tempting her toward the crowd. The urge was so overpowering she couldn’t help but take a step forward. It wasn’t until Dylan’s hands warmed her shoulders that she stopped.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” she shouted. “I feel him, Dylan. Layne’s close.” Her throat stung from all the yelling. She’d be hoarse by the time they left.

Giving the crowd one last scan, a sense of frustration had her fighting the urge to scream, sore throat or not. Where the hell was her Keeper?

As the guitar broke off for a solo, her eyes drifted to the stage, wishing she could be on it. She’d have the best view of the bar, would be able to see every face as they stared at the band with eager eyes.

This group had to be a bunch of locals. Why else would they have the audience so enthralled? Now that she could see past the lights, she studied each member but didn’t recognize the vocalist or the bass player. At least they were good-looking, which explained the salivating females below. The music didn’t matter. Neither did how well they performed. Those women had one concern. Being chosen.

The drummer rolled out a string of beats that had the crowd whistling and cheering, but she didn’t care. She needed to find Layne, not get distracted with the crowd’s fascination with this band.

As her eyes passed over the guy with the magical drumsticks, she did a double take. Disbelief rocked her to the core when she met a set of fiery eyes—eyes that seared her soul deep.

She couldn’t believe she’d finally found Layne, or the fact that he was the one sitting behind the drums.

CHAPTER 20

Heaven eased herself into a chair as Dylan hovered in front of her. She had just enough space to peek around him toward the crowded dance floor. A horde of fans swarmed Layne as he jumped down from the stage. He did his best to move through them as quickly as possible, but some were relentless, namely, the half-dressed attention seekers in the front.

Surprisingly, Layne didn’t give them a second glance. He’d even dodged a few hugs, as well as some groping. Every scorching wave of his energy said one thing for sure. He didn’t have the time or the patience to focus on their wants. His took precedence, and what he wanted most was staring back at him. The weight of his gaze had her drawing in a breath.

A few women lingered in the distance as he left the onlookers behind and headed toward the table. She didn’t doubt they were waiting to see if he’d change his mind and take them up on what they had to offer. Anticipation flickered in their eyes. She’d love to tell them to give up, that he had no interest in them whatsoever.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, her cheeks heated at the recognition of her jealousy. She had no right to feel jealous over Layne. He wasn’t her soulmate. Granted, she wanted to protect him from the type of pain her sister caused, but it didn’t give her the right to be envious of any woman. Short of their Seeker-Keeper bond, she had no claim to him.

Unless their affinity had something to do with it…

Once Layne made it to the table, he glared down at her and then in Dylan’s direction. “Dude, what the hell?” He gestured toward her as a deep crease formed between his brows. “She’s fucking pregnant. Why would you bring her to a place like this?”

Dylan stood his ground, even when Layne invaded his space. He crossed his arms and widened his stance, staring at his friend the entire time. “We’re here because it’s important to her, because
you’re
important to her. She would have come regardless, which is why I don’t understand how you could take off the way you did. You knew it would upset her.”

Layne didn’t miss the opportunity to get in his licks. He tossed his head back and grunted at Dylan’s answer. “Kinda like you knew I’d get pissed if you took her away from me?”

“So this is payback?” Her husband stressed the words as he stepped back to her side. “Does she mean that little to you?”

The fire in Layne raged on, flaming around her with increased strength. He stole a glance at her and then refocused on Dylan. Despite the guilt that lingered in his soul, he held onto his anger.

“You know the answer to that.”

“Yeah, I do. I know you care a great deal about her. We’ve already had this discussion.”

The news had Heaven looking at both men. How many private conversations had they had about her? Was this the one that had them at each other’s throats the night they left Jamaica?

She wanted to demand answers, but Layne spoke before she could. “Why are you bringing that up? Are you trying to get her pissed at me?”

Anger quaked within Dylan’s energy. It had her reaching for his hand, hoping to calm him down before things turned ugly. He acknowledged her worry with a gentle squeeze, but his attention remained on their friend.

“I’m bringing it up because you weren’t honest with me. I asked you specific questions and you lied to me on every single one.” The air around them thickened at Dylan’s response. Regret burned in Layne’s eyes as he looked away, but it didn’t stop Dylan from continuing, “I know I’m partially to blame, and I’m trying to accept things. I just wish that for one minute, you’d put yourself in my position. You’d struggle, too.”