Page 7 of A Surefire Love
The gnawing regret returned. He’d meant to offer Blaze sympathy, not criticize her parenting, if that term even applied when one sister had custody of the other.
The song ended, and Blaze slipped her mic into its stand. “We have an anniversary in the crowd tonight. Candy, Mike tells us your song is ‘I Swear.’ This one’s for you two love birds.” She’d spoken like a litigator in his office but now crooned the announcement, smooth and sweet. She stole a sip from her water bottle, then The Signalmen started the classic 90s song.
A gasp yanked Anson’s attention from the stage. Marissa lifted her hands as a stain bloomed across her top. Jimmy braced himself using their table, an empty glass in his grasp. He must’ve stumbled and spilled.
“Sorry, man.” A guy from a neighboring table tucked in his chair and headed away.
“Should watch out,” Jimmy muttered as he rubbed his face.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Marissa’s upper lip curled. “Get out of here.”
Jimmy pushed away, and Anson steadied the wobbling table. But then Jimmy ran into Mercy’s chair. A corner of the seat stabbed Anson’s thigh as her hands swung over the table. The milkshake went flying. The stool tilted to an impossible angle, as did Jimmy.
Anson grabbed the chair, but Jimmy caught hold of the seat too. The man’s weight wrenched the chair from Anson’s grasp.
Mercy went down with a scream.
4
Glass shattered. A young voice cried out. Something in back thudded as loudly as a bass drum.
Blaze’s throat closed mid-lyric as every face swiveled toward the back of the event hall. Anson had been pestering Mercy there moments ago, but neither was visible in the clutch of people there now.
“Was that Mercy?” Philip took up station next to her, his bass still in hand.
Hard to say. The two-foot-tall stage wasn’t high enough for a clear view. Someone—David?—hefted a stocky man to his feet and escorted him toward the exit. Marissa righted a chair. The chair Mercy had been on?
Philip slipped the mic from her hand. “Go.”
She hopped off the stage and threaded through the crowd to the tables at the back. What in the world could’ve happened?
Some conversations had restarted, but not enough to drown out another cry.
“Mercy?” Anxiety pitched through Blaze’s voice. Shebumped past the onlookers and found her sister on the floor, flanked by Anson and Marissa.
Mercy’s feet stuck out in front of her, one braced on the ground, the other outstretched. Anson said something and motioned. Mercy’s toes wiggled in her sandal.
Blaze knelt beside her sister. Even in the dim light, the flush on her face was obvious. A tear glinted on her cheek. “What happened, sweetie?”
“A drunk man knocked me over.” Her lips pulled into a hard frown, and she sniffled. “And now I can’t walk.”
“I’m so sorry.” Blaze wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders. Her mind spun. Urgent care wouldn’t be open this late. Should they go to the emergency room? And what about the guy? She looked to her best friend for advice but noticed Marissa’s clinging top instead. “You’re soaked.”
Marissa huffed. “He spilled in all his stumbling around, but I think it’s water.”
“Who was it?” Blaze would hunt him down and give him a good scolding. Or better yet, get Philip to ban him.
“Jimmy.” Anson said.
“A friend of yours?”
“Not at all.” Anson’s mouth tightened. “Someone backed their chair into him, and he lost his balance.”
“David’s showing him out.” Marissa’s chin lifted, eyes gleaming. Her brother could be intimidating when he wanted to be—which was most of the time.
“It hurts really bad.” Mercy whimpered.
“Is it broken?” Blaze eyed the ankle.
