Fast Lane - Kristen Ashley Page 0,25

probably taxis at the hotel.

Should I go back?

Did I have enough money for a taxi?

I didn’t know. I’d never paid for a taxi.

What if I didn’t?

I had money to take the L to the venue, return ticket, which meant getting back, something I’d already bought.

And I had money to buy coffee and breakfast on the train on the way home.

When did my train leave?

It was ten. Maybe ten fifteen.

The next morning.

That was hopeful.

That Preacher would talk to me and I’d need a train out the next day.

But they had a lot of trains from Chicago to Indy.

Maybe I could get on the next one. Maybe it didn’t matter what time the ticket you had said, as long as you had a ticket.

I felt the fingers close around my arm.

I jerked it when they did, hard.

I also looked back.

Was his name Jesse?

Yes, Jesse.

God, I didn’t even really know their names.

Why was this such a big deal?

One night.

One night with some guy in a band.

A couple of sips of coffee the next morning.

Why was this such a big deal?

“Hang on, Lyla.”

He still had his hand on me.

“Let me go.”

“Come back.”

Was he insane?

Come back?

And what?

Take a number?

I shook my head.

“No,” I said. “No way. I’ve gotta catch a train.”

“I’ll get you to the station. Hell, I’ll get you back to Indy. Just come back. Talk. Yeah?”

“No,” I repeated.

His expression changed.

“Why are you here?”

Why was I there?

Good question.

“I don’t know,” I told him.

“You heard the album.”

Yes.

Oh yes.

I’d heard the album.

“Night Lies” was my favorite.

That was why I was there.

“This was a bad idea,” I said to Jesse, pulling at my arm.

“There’s a reason you’re here and there’s a reason why Preach did not walk right by you and get in that bus and go on with his night and leave you in his rearview. Now,” he let me go, “it’s up to you whether you want me to fix it so you both can sort out whatever shit is goin’ down.”

I turned and started walking away.

I stopped when Jesse jumped in front of me.

“Shit, I didn’t think you’d go,” he muttered.

“Get out of my way, please,” I requested.

“Listen, Lyla—”

“You know, he got it wrong, and you know, he could have freaking called to know how wrong he was getting it.”

I then moved to sidestep Jesse because I really did not like the look on his face when I said all that.

“Okay, okay, yeah,” he said, walking beside me. “I think he got it wrong, Lyla. Let me make it so he can make it right.”

“I don’t want him to make it right,” I lied.

“Okay, my girl is here from Indy and I haven’t seen her in months and I’m out here with you, without a coat, and it’s fuckin’ cold, and it’s about to rain, and I’d rather be in there with her, so do me a solid here, yeah? Come back with me.”

I kept walking, with him beside me, and pointed out, “I’m not stopping you from going back.”

“Where are you going?”

I had no idea.

Damn.

I stopped and looked around.

Then I looked to him.

“Do you know anything about train tickets?’

His chin shifted back into his neck. “Say what?”

“Train tickets. Like, if you have one for one time, can you get on one for another time?”

“When’s your train leave?”

I was not telling him that.

“Do you know the answer to my question?”

“No.”

Again.

Why did I come to Chicago?

I looked him in the eyes. “Go back to your girl, Jesse.”

“When’s your train leave, Lyla?”

I changed my mind in order to answer and hopefully end this conversation.

“Tomorrow at ten,” I told him. “And I just need to get to the station and hang out until then.”

“That’s a lot of hours from now.”

Whatever.

I made to walk again but Jesse stepped in front of me.

“You can’t be a girl alone waiting all night in the train station in Chicago.”

He was right.

But this was my only choice because I was a huge idiot.

I was wrong about that night in that motel room.

Preacher McCade wasn’t what he’d convinced me he was.

He was what I’d thought he was when I first saw him and that band.

A rock stud out to get laid.

Okay, so he was an insanely good-looking rock stud.

But he was a rock stud.

And I didn’t need this.

Not now.

Especially not now.

He’d already kicked me when I was down…twice.

No, counting him pretending to be what he was not in that motel room, it was three times.

So, I definitely did not need this.

Oh yes.

I was a huge idiot.

“We have a suite,” Jesse said. “We’ll take