Page 38 of His Dark Pull

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Page 38 of His Dark Pull

“Fine, one dance,”I say.

“Yes, buddy!”He says, placing an awkward fist on my shoulder.

Okay—

As we dance, I involuntarily admire his natural charm, his boyish grin, and the way his eyes, even when clouded with alcohol, hold a spark of genuine affection.

For a fleeting moment, my worries that have been plaguing me fade into the background, replaced by the simple pleasure of movement. The tension in my shoulders eases, and the throbbing headache that had been building since my encounter with Kovacs subsides, allowing me to simply be, to exist in the moment.

But the respite is short-lived. As I twirl in Tyler’s arms, I see his body tense, his gaze fixed on something behind me. I follow his line of sight, my heart sinking as I see a gray-haired man bump into him, his arms flailing wildly, causing Tyler to stumble.

“What the hell, man?”Tyler growls, his words slurred. He moves to confront the stranger, his fists clenched.

“Tyler, calm down. It’san old man,”I plead, grabbing his arm, trying to pull him back from the edge of a confrontation. But it’s no use. The alcohol has fueled his temper, turning the gentle, easygoing man into a volatile force.

“You better watch it, you son of a bitch,”he snarls, his face flushed, his eyes blazing with fury.

Just then, I see Mendel out of the corner of my eye. He’s moved closer, subtly positioning himself between Tyler and the old man, his hand casually adjusting the lapel of his jacket. I catch a glimpse of something solid, metallic, beneath the fabric. His expression is unreadable, a mask that hides his intentions.

I shake my head. My lips pursed into a ‘No.’

Dexter, seeing the escalating situation, steps in and places a calming hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “Come on, m-man,”he says. Let’s go and cool down.”

With a muttered curse, Tyler storms off, followed by Dexter. From the corner of my eye, I glimpse Dexter’s face as he watches Tyler go – no trace of concern in those usually gentle eyes, just a cold, calculating assessment. It’s as if he’s observing an experiment unfold. I follow them, my heart pounding in my chest, the adrenaline of the near-confrontation leaving me shaky and on edge.

As soon as we’re out of the ballroom, I turn on Tyler, my lips pressed into a thin line. “What is wrong with you?”I snap, my voice echoing in the empty hallway. “You can’t just go around picking fights with people!”

“I can do whatever the hell I want,”he retorts, his words slurring. “I’m the man of the room, the commander of the dancefloor. And we broke up, remember? So you don’t command me - not at all.”

I roll my eyes, my patience wearing thin. His lawyer friends, with their sharp minds and eloquent speeches, would be appalled by his current state.Deep breaths, Ava, deep breaths, I remind myself, trying to quell my feelings.

“You’re drunk, Tyler,”I say, my voice tight. “You’re not making any sense. Just go home, please.”

“I’m making plenty of sense,”he says, his voice rising, his words becoming more incoherent with every passing moment. “You’re just not listening.”

I shake my head. This isn’t the Tyler I know, the kind, compassionate man who had been my anchor during some of the most difficult moments of my life. This is a stranger fueled by alcohol and misplaced anger.

“I’ve had enough, Tyler,”I state, my voice firm. “I’m leaving.”

I turn to go, but I realize my purse is missing. I must have left it in the ballroom, a casualty of the chaos. As I start to head back, Tyler’s voice stops me, his words like a slap across the face.

“You’re just going to run away like you always do?”he sneers, his eyes narrowing.

I spin around, pointing a finger at him. “I’m not running away,”I retort. “I’m leaving you because you’re drunk and acting like a fool. I’m your friend, but I need a sober friend, not this— this mess.”

With that, I storm off, my eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Sarah. I need to escape this situation and put as much distance between myself and Tyler as possible. I push open the heavy oak door leading to the restroom, seeking refuge in its cool-lit interior. The party’s opulent décor spills over even here, with marble countertops, gold-plated fixtures, and a faint scent of expensive floral arrangements.

I splash cold water on my face, letting the icy water cascade over my face, a shock that jolts me out of the fiery haze. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I see a woman on the verge of unraveling, her carefully applied makeup smudged.

Get a grip, Ava, I think, my inner voice a harsh echo of the reprimands I’ve received throughout my life.You can’t fall apart.

Taking a deep breath, I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame my wild strands. As I step out of the bathroom, I nearly collide with Mendel, his figure blocking the doorway. He leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever.

A sigh escapes my lips. “You gotta stop doing that,”I say, forcing a lighthearted tone.

He offers a rare smile, the corners of his lips twitching upwards briefly. “Can I drive you home?”he asks, his voice deep.

“No, thank you,”I decline, my tone firm. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine.”




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