Indigo Sky

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Saul was out for the week after spraining his wrist from fighting off Tyson, the crazed asshole. Sam called me up and asked if I would mind filling in for him until he was back in working order.

"Yeah, I think I can handle it," I said, even as I wondered how I was going to manage staying out until two in the morning every night when I had to be up at six for my day job.

"Really?" he asked, startled, as if he'd expected me to say no. "You sure it's all right?"

"It should be," I replied.

I worked at the gym Monday through Friday, and I worked at Midnight Lotus Friday through Monday. Working both jobs nearly every single day was likely to be draining, but with enough caffeine, I figured it'd be all right.

Honestly, I was just looking forward to seeing more of Indigo. Kate .

"Okay, as long as you're sure. I don't wanna run you ragged."

"I'll let you know if it becomes too much," I fibbed.

Even if the sleep deprivation drove me insane, I was unlikely to say anything. The situation was temporary. I could tough it out for a week or two and maybe take a day or two afterward to slip into a self-induced coma.

"Great. Thanks a lot, Rev. We'll see you in a bit."

We hung up, and then I showered, scrubbing away the grease from my hands and the sweat from my body. I dressed in my black button-down, black suit jacket, and black slacks, making a mental note to invest in another suit or two to change things up occasionally, and headed downstairs to find my parents getting dinner on the table.

"You're working tonight?" Mom asked at the sight of me.

"Yeah, I gotta fill in for Saul until he's back."

Mom and Dad had heard about the incident at Midnight Lotus last night. They hadn't worried much about it, especially after seeing I was fine. But now, hearing that Saul was out, Mom's brow crumpled with concern.

"Is he all right?"

I nodded, sitting down to quickly shovel some food into my mouth. "He sprained his wrist, fighting that guy off. He would've come in, but I told Sam I could handle it."

Dad eyed me with a skeptical look. "That's not gonna be too much?"

I was thirty-one years old, and Dad was looking at me like I was a high school student balancing school and a little part-time job down at McDonald's.

"I'll be okay," I said, stuffing forkful after forkful of lasagna down my throat.

Mom sat down beside Dad and nudged his ribs with her elbow. "I think he's just excited to see that girl."

Dad snorted. "You know, I think you might be right."

I didn't dignify the accusations with a reply, but I knew I was blushing stupidly, staring into my plate and fighting off a shit-eating grin. Because I thought we all knew that Mom was right.

I was really excited to see that girl.

***

As luck would have it, she was the first thing I saw when I walked into Midnight Lotus that night. Almost as if she had been waiting for me, she slid off her barstool and approached, wearing her skintight leggings and loose-fitting T-shirt, hanging off one shoulder. I took note of her bottom lip, how swollen it still was. The cut had started to scab over, but even though she was wearing lipstick, I could tell how angry and ugly it looked.

"This looks painful," was the first thing to come from my mouth as I boldly lifted my hand to gently run my thumb over the edge of her lip.

"Oh, it is. It splits every single freakin' time I smile."

"Guess you can't smile for a while," I said, dropping my hand back down to my side.

"I know. I'm trying not to."

"That's gonna suck for me," I replied, daring to take my chances with flirtation. "But you do what you gotta do."

Indigo— Kate , I kept reminding myself—groaned and rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were a deeper shade of pink, and her lips twitched as she fought off the smile she wasn't supposed to be smiling.

"Shut up," she said, touching my elbow. "You're going to make my lip bleed again."

"Okay, sorry. I won't speak for the rest of the night." I pretended to zip my lips and threw away the proverbial key.

Another roll of her eyes and a gentle slap of her hand against my chest, and I was on cloud fuckin' nine. I was flirting, she was flirting back, and … I dunno, man … it felt like this could be something. It felt like it already was.

"Hey, I was—"

"Whoa, I thought you weren't going to speak!" she teased, her voice high-pitched and full of excitement and life and happiness and the good shit I hadn't felt in … hell, maybe forever. "Already breaking promises. Typical man."

I held my hands up in surrender, then pulled a crumpled receipt and pen from my pocket. I headed over to the bar, leaned against it, and scribbled on it. Kate tried to look over my shoulder, but I blocked her view with my body. Then, when I was finished, I pocketed the pen, folded up the receipt, and turned around to hand it to her.

"What is this?" she asked, eyeing me with suspicion.

I shrugged in response and tucked my hands into my pockets.

She continued to hold my gaze as she unfolded the wrinkled piece of paper, then reluctantly looked to read my shitty handwriting. Angry hornets took flight in my gut as her cheeks turned crimson, every nerve alive and screaming in my body as she struggled not to smile again. Then, she reached up to my breast pocket, plucked the pen from its hiding place, and leaned against the bar to scribble her own message.

Man, this entire thing was insane.

A few weeks ago, I hadn't thought I'd even see her again, let alone flirt and take a step toward dating territory. I was imagining her meeting my parents. I was imagining her in my car, in my room, in my bed, and I didn't give a single shit that my room was still in my parents' house. Not one single fuck. I just wanted her there, mixing her scent with mine and sleeping where I slept. I wanted her with me, reenacting that dance from years ago—sans clothes and this club and the audience that had surrounded us.

She turned and smirked into my watchful stare as she handed the receipt back to me. She slipped the pen back into my pocket, brushed her fingertips over my chest, and walked around me. I glanced over my shoulder to watch her head toward the hallway, likely to get ready for work. I watched the flip of her ponytailed pink hair, the sway of her ass, and the purpose behind every step.

She's gonna be trouble , I caught myself thinking. And she's the type I wouldn't mind getting into trouble for.

I unfolded the receipt and read the question I'd written down, then grinned like a fucking idiot when I read her reply.

Do you wanna go out with me sometime?

I'm only mad you didn't ask me years ago.

***

The club was dead that night. I guessed that was probably normal for a Tuesday, but the lack of business wasn't helping to ease my exhaustion. By the time midnight rolled around and the street was black and the parking lot was nearly empty, I glanced behind me through the tinted windows, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening inside. If it was as unlively inside as it was out here, I wondered if Sam would close early.

I hadn't seen Kate since opening, of course, but I was eager to spend more time with her, and that eagerness only made the time drag at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Scott came out at one point after midnight to ask if I needed anything.

"Yeah, about six shots of espresso," I deadpanned.

He commiserated with a slow nod, crossing his arms and leaning against the front of the building. "Man, you're not kidding. If I stand here for too long, I'll pass out."

"Glad it's not just me then."

He shook his head. "Nah. Honestly, I think we're all dragging. Everything feels kinda off since last night. Saul isn't here. Wendy's at home with him—"

I took my eye off the street to glance at Scott, sniffling and wiping the back of his hand beneath his nose. Dude seemed like he was battling the beginnings of a cold, but I didn't ask about it in favor of another question.

"Wendy and Saul? They live together?"

He looked up, lifting his brows. "Uh, yeah, I'd hope so. They've been married for, like, twenty years or something like that."

"Get the fuck outta here. Why didn't I know this?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Well, I guess they don't really go around advertising it. Like, you know, if guys came in here and knew Wendy's fuckin' husband was the dude kicking ass at the door … I dunno … they'd be less likely to pay for dances." He shifted his weight from one foot to another. "That's why there's no rule against dating, but it's prohibited to let it affect our work."

"Hmm," I grunted, nodding while thinking about the note I'd written Kate earlier. The same one burning a hole through my pocket right now.

"You asked Indie out?"

I saw no reason to hide it from him, so I said, "Yeah. I mean, I dunno when, but I asked if she'd be interested, and she said yes."

"I heard her talking to Crystal and Ivy," Scott admitted with an apologetic lift of his mouth. "She likes you."

"I like her too," I said for no other reason than to say it aloud to someone.

He pushed off the wall and sniffled again. "God, this weather is killing my sinuses," he griped, using his arm now to wipe his nose. "Anyway, I'm rooting for you, man. Just, like I said, don't let feelings get in the way of work—you know what I'm saying?"

I nodded. "I don't plan on it."

"Nah," he said. "But does anyone ever?"

***

Kate was one of the last to leave. Scott had walked Ivy and Crystal to their cars while I waited for Kate to finish getting her things together. Then, she appeared in the hallway, a smile gently tugging at her lips as she approached where I stood near the front entrance.

She dabbed a tissue against her bottom lip, and I frowned.

"It split again?"

"Yeah, while I was dancing earlier. And now, the bleeding just won't stop."

"Maybe you should get it looked at."

Kate shook her head and waved the suggestion away as if it were completely asinine. "I've had a split lip before. I'm fine."

I didn't push the argument, although I wasn't sure I believed she was fine. Maybe her lip was, but her heart, her pride … I wasn't sure there was anything fine about those at all.

But I can help her get there .

I offered my arm, and she accepted it with the smallest quirk of her lips and a bow of her head.

"Thank you, kind sir."

Together, we walked out the door and toward her car, not far from mine. She swept her gaze around the dark parking lot and pressed her side to mine. I wondered if she was typically this nervous or if it was a new thing. Maybe since the attack the night before, or maybe it was something else entirely.

"So, when do you wanna go out?" she asked, her voice shattering the silence.

I inclined my head toward hers as I sucked in a deep breath. "Well, I don't know when I'd be able to this week—or really at any point before Saul comes back." I didn't mean to sound like I was bitching. I didn't mind filling in for him. But it sure as fuck was throwing a wrench into this new development with Kate, and excuse me for not being thrilled about it.

"Oh, right. You have another job, right?"

"Yeah," I grumbled. "I work eight to four Monday through Friday. Then, I have a couple of hours to get home, shove some food down my throat, get dressed, and head over here."

"That sucks," she sympathized. "But, I mean, maybe I could shove food down my throat with you soon."

A smile tugged at my lips as I turned and pressed my back to the side of her car. "Yeah, I guess we could do that."

"What day works for you?"

"I don't wanna seem too eager"—I shrugged and turned my gaze to the cloudless black sky—"but how does tomorrow work?"

"I'd say yes, but I'm babysitting for Crystal." It was her turn to sound disappointed.

"Babysitting?"

Kate nodded. "Yeah, her son."

I hummed a contemplative sound as I wiped my hand over my bearded chin. "I didn't know Crystal was a mom."

"Yep,” she said, turning to stand beside me. “Her baby daddy's a real piece of work too. He was around for maybe a year, then decided, You know what? I really don't want to be a dad . Then, he skipped town, and she never heard from him again."

I frowned. "What an asshole."

Kate sighed as she nodded. "Yeah … none of us have had a lot of luck in the love department, honestly. Well, except Wendy and Saul, but they're freaks of nature. Been together since high school."

"Scott told me,” I said while wondering about her own luckless love life. What did she mean by that?

“Honestly, they’re adorable, and I hope I’m lucky enough to fall for a guy like Saul. Not that I want him . He’s, like … practically a dad to me, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Unspoken words between us. Questions, hopes, fears, or memories—maybe all of it—permeated the air, both of our backs against her car. My arm barely brushing her shoulder, her hand dangling inches from mine. I wanted to reach out and touch her fingers. I wanted to feel her skin against mine. But something told me to keep my distance, to leave the door open as an invitation to come inside, but to let her take the first steps herself. She needed to call the shots, and I needed to allow it. But, fuck, that didn’t mean I didn’t want to grab her and pull her inside, where it was warm and safe.

“Anyway, what about Thursday?” she asked, pushing beyond the unsaid and into safer territory.

My eye caught on something across the street, and I stared, my heart speeding up.

“Yeah, I’ll need to shove food down my throat on Thursday,” I said, keeping my voice even, inclining my head toward hers, but not quite looking at her.

My stare was on something else, something farther in the distance across the street. It was too dark to see, too dark to be sure, but it looked like someone standing there, behind a telephone pole. I’d only caught the tiniest glimpse of movement; it could’ve been nothing, but … no, I had seen it. I had seen something .

“Can I give you my number?”

Dammit . Yes, I wanted to have her number. I wanted her to have mine.

But I also didn’t feel right, standing here, on a shadowy road, alone, at two in the morning. Goose bumps scattered along my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Something eerie hung in the air, and I wanted her to leave.

“Give me your phone,” I ordered, not intending to sound so urgent and demanding. I hoped she didn’t notice.

She complied, handing her phone to me, and quickly, while barely taking my eye off that telephone pole across the street, I put my number into her phone, not bothering to add my name to it. She’d know. She’d put it in herself.

“Text me when you get home,” I said. “Please.”

She sniffed a gentle laugh and held her phone up to begin typing. “I could just text you—"

“ No .” I stopped her, my heart racing as the shadows shifted and the figure of a man moved farther away, deeper into a row of bushes. “Actually, um …” I blew out a heavy breath, steadying my voice and lungs. “How ‘bout you call me on your way home? I’m tired as fuck, and I need someone to keep me awake.”

In my mind, I screamed at her to say yes as I imagined whoever it was across the street following her home. I pictured a faceless man, pulling into her driveway behind her, ambushing her, taking her.

Was it Tyson? Was he pissed off and seeking his revenge?

Then, Nate came to mind.

I'd known him for a long time. I knew what kind of questionable shit he got up to. Stalking me wasn't out of the realm of possibility. And I was sure that following innocent women home wasn't either. I couldn’t see him raping or murdering, but scaring someone? He wasn't above that. He’d done it before.

Kate was quiet for a few moments, and I felt her eyes on me, watching and questioning.

"Yeah," she finally said, her voice uncertain. "I can do that."

"Good. Great." I forced a smile and glanced at her. "I'd appreciate it."

"Are you okay?"

I shifted my gaze back toward that spot across the street. The shadowed figure seemed to be gone. But I'd be a fool to trust so easily.

"I thought I saw something," I answered honestly. "Kinda freaked me out. I'm okay though. Probably just exhausted."

"Oh, all right," she replied hesitantly, albeit understandingly. I assumed exhaustion was something she knew well. "Okay. Well, I'll get going. I'll call you in a couple of min—"

"Call me as soon as you close this door," I interjected, opening the driver's door for her and gesturing inside. "Don't make me waste more than a second out here alone when I could be hearing your voice instead."

She stared for a second longer than I would've liked, just watching me as her fingers fidgeted with the straps of her bag. Her lips parted, her brows tipped, and her eyes widened with so much more than I wanted to unpack right now.

Then, without saying another word, she got in and buckled her seat belt.

"Call me," I reminded her, my hands gripping the edge of the doorframe.

She started the engine, then held her phone up. "Dialing your number now."

"Good."

I shut the door without saying anything else, afraid she'd linger. God, the dread in my gut was intense, and why ? I felt insane, like the rope tethering my mind to reality was fraying. Maybe it was all just a knee-jerk response to the situation with Tyson the night before—I didn't fucking know—but I needed to get some sleep, and she needed to get out of here.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I answered immediately.

"Hey," I said, backing away from her car to let her pull out of the spot.

"You're a little paranoid, huh?" she teased.

"Not usually," I admitted, walking around to the driver's side of my own car while keeping my eye on hers. "You wanna wait for a second before you drive away?"

"Gonna take me up on the offer you turned down years ago?"

Memories of her asking if I'd like to come back to her place rushed back in. My cheeks were aflame, and my dick twitched in my pants when I thought maybe that scenario could very well become reality someday. Perhaps even someday soon.

"Not tonight," I said, getting into my car and shutting the door. I turned on the engine and allowed the phone a second to connect to Bluetooth.

"That's not a no," she jabbed, her voice revealing a smile I was sure hurt her lip.

I pulled out of the parking space and pulled up alongside her car, glancing across our respective cars to meet her gaze and the tight smile on her face. "You said you weren't going to smile anymore."

"What can I say?" She shrugged. "You make it hard to keep my promises."

I gave her a half smile before looking ahead at the telephone pole and scanning the vicinity for any waiting cars or long-legged shadows lurking around.

"I'm going to follow you for a few minutes," I told her. "Just to be safe."

"You're seriously freaked out, huh?"

"Humor me, Kate."

She nodded. "Okay."

She started to drive, and I followed, leaving just enough space between our cars to prevent someone from cutting in—not that there was anyone else on the road, but still.

"So, what are we gonna talk about?" she asked, filling my car with her sweet, pretty voice as we turned out of the parking lot and drove past the corner where I'd seen the shadow lurking behind the telephone pole.

There was nobody there. No car. No man. Just a telephone pole with a flyer of some grinning lawyer stapled to it. His smile seemed to taunt me, laughing, poking at me, the way all those kids in school used to.

And yet the sense of unease hadn't left. If anything, it was only heightened as I wondered, Where the hell did you go?

"Anything," I said to Kate as we drove past, and I checked my rearview mirror. "Talk to me about anything."

***

You know, in hindsight, I can't believe she trusted me. Like, looking back, I was acting shady as fuck. But I knew I had seen something, and whether that something had truly been a threat or not, I didn't care. I wasn't risking anything. Better safe than sorry—you know what I mean?

I stayed on the phone with her for twenty whole minutes, and we talked about the most trivial shit, but somehow, it didn't feel trivial at all. Like movies we both thought were overrated and bands we were both into and couldn't believe the other liked. I mean, do you know how difficult it is to find someone else who thinks The Shining is lame as hell and also thinks Sister Hazel is one of the most underrated bands of the ‘90s? Honestly unheard of … but I found that in her, and I thought … I thought that was when I really knew , you know? Like, I had already known I liked her. I had already known I wanted to get to know her better … and I’d sure as fuck known there was a physical attraction there.

But, nah, that conversation …

That need I felt to make sure she was safe …

It went beyond friendliness between coworkers or a crush I had on a pretty woman.

It was the first time in my life when I knew I had something I'd fight for.

Hell, maybe even to the death, if it came down to it.

And I had no idea then why I felt like that, but … man, I did, and that feeling only grew and grew and grew until I had an entire army raging beneath my skin.