Indigo Sky

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I'd thought about canceling lunch plans with Nate.

I wanted to. It felt wrong to go out to lunch with an old friend as if nothing was going on, as if my girlfriend— holy fuck, she's my girlfriend —didn't have a fluorescent bull’s-eye taped on her back.

But when I mentioned the possibility of canceling to Kate, she laughed gently through the phone and asked, "And what will canceling your plans accomplish?"

I huffed incredulously. "Uh, I could make myself available to you?"

"Rev, I'm fine, I swear. I'm going to the grocery store with Crystal and her son. I'm not going to be alone."

"Yeah? And what if something happens?" I challenged, stuffing my feet into my old boots from my days at Roy's shop.

Roy . I furrowed my brow. I'd have to ask Nate about him and what the hell had happened to cause his untimely death.

"I had some more pepper spray overnighted, and I have my knife in my bag," she said quickly, as if she'd been waiting for me to ask. "Besides, I highly doubt anything will happen in the middle of the day."

"Or maybe that's what he wants you to think."

"Revan." She sounded impatient. The sigh she followed my name up with confirmed the assumption. "I love that you want to be there and protect me, seriously. But I'm okay, I swear. I'm not even taking my own car to the club tonight. I'll be with Crystal the whole time."

"Does she know what's going on?" I asked, narrowing my gaze at my reflection in the mirror over my dresser.

"Yes. Don't forget I've dealt with this before. And because I was dealing with it, everyone at work was too. They have my back just as much as you do, I promise. I'm okay ."

The comment shouldn't have wounded my pride at all—she hadn’t meant to—yet it did. She was a strong woman—maybe the strongest I'd ever known in my life—and it was admirable. But it also meant she didn't need me the way I wished she did. She wasn't a damsel in distress. She didn't need to be saved when she’d been saving herself long before I came into the picture.

Is that what I'm looking for?

No , I quickly realized. It wasn't. I didn't want a woman completely dependent on me.

But I wanted to feel useful .

I wanted to feel needed … even if I wasn't.

"Okay," I muttered, grabbing my eyepatch off the nightstand and pulling it on almost begrudgingly.

“Rev?”

“Hmm,” I grunted, trying hard not to let on that I’d been hurt when I shouldn’t have been.

“Thank you for caring so much about me,” she said quietly.

I blew out a breath that was meant to cleanse my mind and calm the nerves threatening to take over. But it didn’t. Still, I filled my lungs and belly with a deep breath and grabbed the phone off the dresser.

“It’s what I’m supposed to do,” I replied.

It’s all I want to do .

***

The taco place on Meadowlark that Nate had mentioned was really just a food truck that looked like it'd rolled in from the 1980s. Old and dingy, barely held together by a few rubber bands and a prayer. I was dubious about the quality of their tacos, especially after noticing the beaded fringe in the shape of sombreros dangling from the lip of the awning.

I pulled into the lot it occupied and looked around for Nate's dirty pickup and spotted it immediately, but Nate wasn't in the driver's seat. He was standing outside, leaning against the rusty bed and looking down at his phone with a small smile on his face. He had been too sweaty at the gym the other day, and I hadn’t noticed that he had started to grow his hair out just a little bit. No longer was he rocking the buzz cut he’d worn every day since the first day he’d defended me in first grade. And the beard he’d grown his facial hair into was nicely groomed and short.

He looked good. Healthy .

Honestly, it was startling when I hadn’t seen him look so put together in … well, ever, and I was torn between wondering if he’d completely lost his mind altogether or if this girlfriend he’d mentioned should be nominated for sainthood.

I got out of my car, and he looked over his shoulder to watch me approach. He grinned like he hadn’t expected me to show up, and, yeah, that might’ve made me feel a little guilty because I almost hadn’t.

“Bro,” he said by way of greeting, extending his hand toward me.

I clapped my palm against his, and he pulled me in for a solid one-armed hug.

I sniffed the air around us and looked at him with a suspicious, narrowed glare. “Are you wearing cologne ?”

He squeezed my shoulder before letting go, laughing. “Of all the things you could throw in my face, that’s what you picked? Not the hair, not the beard, not the clean clothes …”

“Dude, I have seen you do laundry, but I don’t think I’ve ever known you to wear fuckin’ cologne .”

I was stunned, staring at him, wide-eyed, and shaking my head a little. It was like I didn’t know him, and, hell, maybe that was a good thing. Maybe this woman had nothing to do with it. Maybe my pushing him away had been the best thing for both of us.

“I took over Roy’s shop,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “You know he died—"

“No, I didn’t know,” I said, still bitter. “I only found out on social media.”

He looked confused at that. “Nobody told you? Not even your dad?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Nobody said a word to me.”

It stung. I had known Roy my entire life, had been his employee for years, and in a cold, shitty post, I’d had to find out that the man had passed months earlier.

“Ah, man …” Nate looked genuinely remorseful as he stuffed his phone into his pocket. “I’m sorry. I would’ve told you sooner.”

“Doesn’t matter now.”

He squinted his eyes toward the taco truck and nodded. “Yeah, guess not.”

“How did it happen?”

He lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “He just … fell asleep and didn’t wake up. They said it was a heart attack.”

I frowned. “Sucks.”

“Yeah, it does. But, um … anyway, he left me the shop.”

That was startling. My shock must’ve been written on my face because Nate nodded solemnly.

“I know. I was surprised too. I thought he would’ve left the place to Donny, but …” He gestured as if to say, What can you do? “Anyway, I figured a business owner should look presentable, so I cleaned my shit up.”

So, it hadn’t been a girl, and it hadn’t been me cutting ties. It was Roy’s death that had given him a wake-up call.

“Well, you look good,” I complimented.

He nodded. “Thanks, man. You do too.”

The conversation lulled, and we awkwardly made our way over to the counter of the truck. We ordered our food—Nate insisted on paying—and then waited all of maybe two minutes while the man and woman inside quickly threw together our lunch.

"Here you go, guys," the man said, sliding the two cardboard cartons and paper cups of soda across the counter toward us. "Enjoy, all right?"

"Thanks, boss," Nate said, dropping a couple of one-dollar bills into the tip cup.

The gesture was unexpected, and I knew I’d roll it around my brain later. But right now, I was too busy following him back to the bed of his truck. He lowered the hatch and hoisted himself up to sit, patting the spot beside him.

Who the fuck is this guy? I thought as I hesitantly made myself comfortable.

Nate lifted one of the tacos from his container, the overload of lettuce and cheese sprinkling messily onto his lap, and he turned to me before taking a bite. "So, I started seeing someone."

My own messy grilled chicken taco was on its way to my mouth when I turned to study him curiously. "You told me you have a girl—"

"No, I mean, like, a, uh …" He tapped his temple. "A shrink."

I took a bite of the taco and, shit, if it wasn't one of the best tacos I'd ever had in my life. "Wow," I muttered, thinking aloud, holding it out to marvel at its deceptive messiness.

"They're bangin', right?" Nate grinned at me, his mouth full. "My girl turned me onto this place a few weeks ago, and I'm fuckin' addicted. I think I'm single-handedly keeping these guys in business."

"Shit." I was so overwhelmed by the burst of spicy heat and savory chicken that I almost forgot what Nate had just confessed to me. But after swallowing, I blew out a breath and took a sip of my Coke, ready to give him my full attention. "So, you're seeing a doctor, huh? How's that going?"

He put his taco back in the carton and put it aside on the truck bed. He scrubbed his palms over his face before pressing them to his thighs and exhaling.

"I, um … I dunno if you know this, but I had, uh … I had a lot of shit goin' on in my head."

It would've been wrong to laugh, so I didn't. But it didn't take a genius to know that Nate's mental state hadn't been the best in … fuck, maybe ever. Certainly not within the years that I’d known him.

"Yeah," I muttered empathetically, nodding.

He wouldn't look at me as he continued rubbing his palms against his thighs and said, "I've done a lot of fucked-up shit, man."

I was already aware of some of it. I could only imagine what I knew nothing about.

"My mom …" His gaze was on the parking lot, and his blinking sped up, like he was casting off tears he didn't want to cry. "She fuckin' hated me. I don't know why she hated me, but she fuckin' did."

I swallowed. "I'm sure she didn’t—"

"No." He held up his hand like he was about to karate-chop the air, cutting me off harshly. "I get that you can't understand what it's like for your mother to hate you, but my mother did . She fucking said so on a daily fuckin' basis. Every damn day, I was reminded of what a waste of fuckin’ air I was. Every single fucking day, she reminded me of how much she didn’t want me. It was the only thing I knew. Do you even get what I'm saying? I didn't know how to be liked ."

Suddenly, I felt sick, rattled. I had known about the bruises, about the broken arm, and every other visible injury Nate had worn in the past. But I guessed I'd just assumed that was where the abuse began and ended, as if that made anything better. I’d had no idea there was more—how could I? Should I have just assumed? I was a kid . He’d never told anyone … but, well … why would he have?

"What did she do to you?" I asked, unsure if I should. Unsure if he wanted me to. Unsure if he would answer, unsure if he even could .

"Um …" Nate scratched behind his ear, scrubbed his palm over his mouth, and went back to rubbing his thigh vigorously, like he was trying to start a fire through his jeans. "She, uh … " He thrust his hand into the air with a huffed laugh. "Well, she beat the shit out of me, okay? I mean, for one. A-and when I was too big for her to do it, sh-she passed me off to Jim. And that was worse ‘cause every time, he would, uh … he, um …" He winced and swallowed. "H-he'd come to m-my room to … I dunno … apologize in his f-fucked-up way and—"

"Oh my God, Nate." I covered my face with my hand as my heart hammered loudly in my ears, above my weakened voice. Bile threatened to climb my throat and fill my mouth, souring every desire to eat for the rest of the day.

Goddammit, no wonder he had always been at my house every chance he got.

Goddammit . No wonder he had been so fucking mad .

Beaten. Abused. Molested. God fucking knew what else. I didn’t know if I could stomach knowing, but I wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to tell me. I’d never stop him, if only to unburden him of the load just a little. I could only begin to imagine how heavy it had been to carry all this time.

Nate sniffed and rubbed his hand beneath his nose. "Yeah, I, uh … I don't really wanna talk about that, but, um …" He cleared his throat again. "Anyway, I was treated like shit, so I treated everyone else like shit, including you, but you … you never left. Even when I was a complete fuckin' asshole, even when you should've kicked my ass and pushed me out of your life, even when I did some fuckin' certifiable bullshit … you were there ."

"You were my only friend," I whispered, rubbing my fingers over my forehead and the wrinkled evidence of why nobody had wanted to be my friend.

"And what a shitty friend I was," he grumbled. "You deserved better. I couldn't give you better. I wasn't able to be better—you know what I mean? But … you deserved it. So, what I'm saying is, I don't blame you for ditching my ass after I got you fired."

The breath in my lungs stuttered as I glanced at him, startled that he'd been aware that I had pushed him away intentionally. I thought I'd been inconspicuous, I thought it hadn't been obvious, but apparently, I'd been wrong.

"Nate, man, I'm—"

"Oh, shut the hell up, Rev." He shoved against my arm. "Don't fuckin' apologize. I should be the one apologizing to you . I got you fired , asshole. You were right for looking out for yourself after that. Honestly, you should’ve kicked me to the curb long before that. And the fact that you didn't throw my ass under the bus? You're a goddamn saint—you realize that, right?"

"Well, I don't know about that," I murmured, shaking my head and feeling awful for ever judging him for anything, knowing now at least a fraction of the hell he'd been through.

Because while he might've been a bad guy once upon a time—maybe even a villain—I had forgotten somewhere along the way that villains were often created by forces out of their control. And when I looked at it that way, didn't they deserve a little compassion too?

"Well, anyway, I'm letting you know that I'm taking care of my shit," he said, grabbing his tacos again and straightening his spine. "And if you wanted to be my friend again—"

"Dude, come on. I never stopped being your friend. I just … I needed—"

"You needed some separation from my crazy shit—I get it—but you know what I mean. If you wanted to chill again and be friends, I swear, I'm okay."

I dared to smirk as I lifted my taco. "You still breaking into houses?"

He huffed and shook his head. "Jesus, no. And I'm clean, man. No more drugs, no more booze. My girl … she wouldn't put up with my ass if I did any of that shit."

I had to admit, I was impressed.

I had to admit, I was glad Kate had convinced me to come.

I guessed we were both lucky bastards to have the women we had in our lives, helping us to be better versions of ourselves.

“Yeah,” I said just as I was about to take another bite. “That’d be cool.”

***

After I returned home, I thought about just texting Kate, insisting she call me when leaving work, and getting some rest before my phone rang at two a.m. But the pull to be near her was too great, the worry of what might await her when leaving work was too intense, and I knew I would never sleep. So, I showered, threw on some clothes, and went down to the club, not giving a single fuck about how tired I’d be the next morning at the gym.

Kate was happy to see me as I sauntered in, just before opening, but she seemed less surprised than she’d been the other night.

“I’m not sure Saul hired you to be my personal bodyguard,” she teased, wrapping her arms around my waist.

“Nah, I filled the position on my own,” I said before leaning down and pressing my lips to hers. “I didn’t see your car outside.”

“No, I told you before that I was coming in with Crystal.”

Recollection swept over me. “Ah, that’s right,” I muttered with a nod.

The conversation with Nate had blurred every other moment I’d lived that day. Even now, with Kate in my arms and her perfume wafting over me, I was having a hard time not thinking about the things he’d confessed to me. The horrors he’d lived through in that house he shared with his mom and her boyfriend before it burned to the ground.

The memory of that night came back to me then. The explosion that had woken us up. The sight of Nate, covered in soot and blood. God, how the hell could anyone go through the things he’d been through and end up okay ? But he wasn’t okay, was he? He never was, probably never would be, but maybe—

“You all right?” Kate asked, ripping me away from the fog in my mind.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice gruff. “Sorry. Just thinking about a friend of mine.”

“The one you met for lunch?”

I nodded, my brow pinched with thought. “Yeah. He, uh … he wanted to see me to apologize for some stuff and tell me about …” My voice trailed off as I wondered suddenly if Nate would even want me to divulge this information to anyone. I had no plans to spill his dark, gritty, traumatic secrets to anyone, but even to allude … no, it wasn’t my place, and I cleared my throat. “He just had some stuff to talk about.”

“But it went well?” She looked hopeful as she squeezed her arms tightly around me.

“It did, yeah,” I said, even as I imagined the things he hadn’t told me about regarding his mom and her boyfriend, the morbid details he was unlikely to reveal. Would I even want to know?

“Good.” Kate kissed me again before unraveling her arms from my waist to slide her hands up the front of my shirt to lie flat against my chest. “Now, I’m going to finish getting ready. You wanna come back and keep me company?”

The thought lit a match beneath my skin. “What about Crystal and Wendy?”

She held out her hand, her long, slender fingers waggling with temptation. “There are two dressing rooms,” she said with a wink.

Well then …

I allowed her to take my hand and acted the part of a willing participant as she led me toward the hallway I’d never been down. Like entering forbidden territory, a secret garden or Eden itself, I swept my curious gaze over the space that played a stark contrast to the club it was attached to. The walls were white, and the lights above were bright, not allowing a single shadow to be cast. Nobody could sneak past that curtain unnoticed, and I knew without a doubt that had been done on purpose.

There were four doors down this hallway. One led to a bathroom meant for the girls only. Another seemed to be a closet of sorts—the door was ajar, but not open enough to get a clear view.

And then there were the dressing rooms.

I couldn’t say what the other one looked like, as the door was closed. But the one Kate pulled me into wasn’t as bright as the hallway, but just barely. It was small, only a little bigger than one of the parking spaces in the lot outside, but it was plenty big for its purpose.

A long vanity spanned the width of one wall with large, round light bulbs bordering the mirror behind it. There were two rolling stools tucked beneath the counter, along with plastic containers full of what looked like hair supplies, maybe, or it could’ve been makeup—I couldn’t really tell you. There was a rack of costumes crammed into the space, an upholstered chair, and a full-length mirror. There was barely enough space for us both to stand, but Kate pulled me inside and closed the door behind us.

“So, this is where the magic happens, huh?” I said, surveying the room with my hands on my hips as she secured the lock.

“Revan?”

I looked over my shoulder as she turned and grabbed my arm. “Huh?”

She spun me around and pressed her palms to my cheeks as our lips made swift impact. My lungs quickly inhaled, and my heart skipped a beat, startled. I realized that every single kiss I’d shared with her had so far been a surprise.

“Stop talking,” she whispered, her lips moving against mine, her arms circling my neck.

“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered in reply, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding every part of her to every part of me.

In synchronized fashion, our mouths opened, and tongues tangled, sweeping and licking and tasting. She took a step back as I took a step forward, both of us working with one shared mind that had one goal. One step after another until her ass hit the edge of the counter. Her hands left my neck to fall between our bodies, untying her robe and letting it slip from her shoulders and arms, pooling onto the floor at our feet.

I stopped kissing her and took her hands in mine, dropping my gaze to take in the glorious sight of her bare chest. And it wasn’t that I hadn’t seen her breasts before. Hell, at this point, I was damn close to being desensitized to the idea of tits altogether. But this time was different. She wasn’t onstage. She wasn’t performing. She wasn’t doing this as a part of her job. This moment was mine. She was mine, and I raked my eye over every inch of her smooth, perfect skin with an appreciation I hoped she could feel.

“Damn, Kate,” I uttered, hoarse and awestruck. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

She tipped her head, and a ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. “Honestly, no, I don’t think you have.”

I opened my mouth to feed her a line, to tell her just how beautiful I thought she was, but I stopped myself. Because what the hell was so special about being told you were beautiful when you heard it all the damn time? And she did. I knew it because I’d heard it myself. Clients. The other girls. Everyone reminded her of her beauty on a regular basis.

“You’re so pretty.”

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Sooner or later, it had to lose its meaning. Sooner or later, the flattery dulled, and it became another routine part of the day, no different from bringing in the mail or feeding the cat.

No, I needed to set myself apart from everyone else. I needed to assure her that I wasn’t just another guy seeking her out to be a cheap thrill that would soon be forgotten. Because there was nothing cheap about Kate. She was priceless, irreplaceable. Trust me, I would know. She had consistently revisited my mind for nearly a decade.

I licked my lips and cleared my throat as I dived deep toward the core of my soul and awkwardly began to speak, hoping I didn’t sound as much like a jackass as I thought I would.

“I was in the hospital for a long time after the accident,” I said, placing my hands on her hips and kneading my fingers against flesh, so silken and soft that it was hard to believe it was real. “I was in a medically induced coma for about a week to let my body heal because the doctors knew that, if I was awake and aware of what was happening, I would’ve lost my fucking mind, and … it would’ve been bad. Worse than it was.”

My fingers traced vertical lines from her waist to just below her breasts, and I smirked with every jolt of her breath whenever my fingertips grazed her rib cage.

“My skull was fractured, I had a brain bleed, my skin was”—I lifted my hand to hover over the right side of my face—“all kinds of fucked up, especially before they started putting me back together like Humpty fuckin’ Dumpty … and of course, my eye …”

I dropped my hand back down to cradle her cheek in my palm. “Anyway, when I finally woke up and the doctors and my parents explained what had happened, it fucked me up. Because you have to understand, the last thing I remembered was my dad lighting this kick-ass firework, and then all of a sudden, I was waking up with all of these fuckin’ machines beeping incessantly and half of my face bandaged up and a tube being pulled out of my throat …” My voice broke toward the end there.

Fuck . God, it had been a while since I’d delved that deep into what had happened to me, and the rise of sudden emotion had been unexpected.

Kate glanced up at me, sympathy shining in her eyes, and I sucked in a deep breath to get my shit together.

“So, a couple of days after I woke up, this nurse walked into my room, and she looked around at my parents and me and said, ‘Nobody gets better when everyone acts like they’ve already died.’ She forced me to get into a wheelchair, and she pushed me down to this little courtyard in the middle of the hospital. All it was, was just a couple of shitty benches, a pine tree, and a bunch of flowers, but the sun was shining, and it felt good on my skin. And I remember looking around with my one eye and thinking I had never seen anything more beautiful. And I realized then that, yeah, I might’ve lost the one, but at least I hadn’t lost both because if I had lost both, I wouldn’t have been able to see how vibrant and pretty those flowers were. And as fucking lame as it probably sounds, that’s what I think about when I look at you.”

She barely smiled as she whispered out a laugh. “What, shitty benches and a pine tree?”

“No,” I said with confidence, stepping closer to invade the space between her spread thighs. “I think about sunshine after days of darkness, I think about vibrant and colorful beauty when everything else is so fucking dull. But probably more than anything, I think about coming back to life after too long of believing I was better off dead.”

The words left my mouth, and I couldn’t believe I had said them. For a moment, the only sounds to be heard were the heaviness of our breathing and the muffled noises from outside.

Kate dropped her gaze from mine, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. I mean, fuck, maybe I had crossed a line. Maybe it had felt too forced, too fake, too much like I’d been reading from a script somewhere.

But then she flattened her palms to my chest, her fingers twitching only slightly, and she said in a way that almost sounded like she was laughing, “God, you are just full of that shit, huh?”

Surprised, I burst with a short guffaw. “You think I don’t mean what I said?”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, shook her head, and looked off to somewhere behind me. “No, it’s not that. I think you do mean it, and that’s why I’m—"

Knock, knock!

We turned abruptly at the banging against the door, followed by Crystal saying, “Indie, girl, you in there?”

Kate squeezed her eyes shut and sighed out a, “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Oh, okay. Saul was freaking out, asking where you were. You almost ready? The doors open—"

“Yep, just finishing up.” Kate glanced up at me, and her eyes flashed with mirth and excitement. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

"Okay," Crystal called back.

We waited for a moment before tearing our eyes from the door and speaking again, giving her the opportunity to walk away. When we assumed the coast was clear, Kate laid her hands against my chest and slid them upward to my shoulders, then my neck. She held on tightly, her long fingernails grazing over my skin as she pulled me down to her open, waiting lips. I groaned into her mouth and against the seductive dance of our tongues.

But then she slowly retreated, lowering her hands to my chest once again, and I suppressed the need to whine pitifully.

Kate opened her eyes and smiled dreamily into mine. She sighed contentedly as her arms slid around my waist to give me one tight hug, her cheek pressed against my chest, before letting go altogether. She had to get ready to work, to give pieces of Indigo Sky to the clients who would come to see her dance.

But not before she said, "My life has felt very dark and dull for a long time, but you … you make me think of sunshine too."

***

Something shifted between us that night. An invisible electric wave that seemed to be tethered between us at all times, even when she was dancing for other men or delivering drinks between performances. Her eyes would find mine in the dark club, and her lips would quirk with a reassuring smile. I would find that I didn't need it to feel confident in this, what we were … but I did need her .

Twice, she stopped at my table to kiss me, club rules and customers be damned. Once, she dropped her ass into my lap to give me an impromptu dance that lasted all of thirty seconds before she moved on to another table. Her fingertips found my shoulders, my neck, my scalp frequently. All these tiny reminders that, while she worked for them, she was mine, and I reveled in that, even as she left the floor to give someone a private dance.

It was a good night—no, it was a great night. All worries, all insecurities seemed to jump out the fucking window, and I couldn't wait for Kate to be off work so we could sneak into the dressing room and make out again.

I had meant what I'd said to her. I felt alive. I felt sure of where I was in my life after years of simply existing, floating from one day into the next. This place—Midnight Lotus—had given me purpose; it had given me happiness and a renewed look on what I even wanted to be. And, fuck, I felt incredible and invigorated, and I itched with a desperation to wrap my arms around her.

But then my skin prickled with a shift in the air, like the wind had changed directions and it was now blowing directly in my face. I narrowed my view of the stage and looked over my shoulder, curious and unsure of why I suddenly felt this unsettling in my gut.

Until I saw a familiar face not far from where I sat, his eyes pinned on my girlfriend on the pole, and I slowly stood with that gurgling dread worming its way through my gut. I walked toward where he stood and pressed a hand to his shoulder as I glared at him.

"The fuck are you doing here?" I demanded.

I would've expected Nate to be shocked to see me, but he wasn't. He looked at me with infuriating nonchalance, and a grin overtook his face.

"Well, I came to see my girl, but I can't say I'm not enjoying the view right now."

I tried to ignore the comment directed toward a topless Kate, even though my skin was left heated and bristled in its wake, and I focused on something else instead.

"Your girl?"

He turned to meet my gaze and nodded. "Yeah, man, my girlfriend works here."

That sense of unease rolling around my stomach was only amplified with every passing millisecond as I hurried through the last several weeks.

Crystal. Process of elimination brought me back to her, and it made sense. She'd been seeing someone, someone who made her happy …

Is Nate even capable of making someone happy?

He's happy too .

"No shit?" I lowered my hand from his shoulder and studied him with genuine intrigue.

"Yeah." He grinned with pride before quickly letting it drop from his face as he looked around the club. "I said I'd finally come to see her dance, but … I don't know where she … is …"

As if on cue, Crystal walked by, a tray of drinks balanced on her palm. She caught sight of Nate standing there, and the expression that passed over her face was one I couldn't believe was directed at this guy, who had believed—as far as I’d known—that women were disposable and undeserving of respect.

"Oh my God, baby!" she squealed, placing the tray on a table to hurry over to him. She threw her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her waist, lifting her off the ground. "I can't believe you came!"

He buried his face in her shoulder and said against her neck, "Yeah, Donny's opening in the morning, so I don't need to wake up early. Thought I'd surprise you."

"I'm so happy you're here!"

It felt wrong to stand there, watching them in what seemed like a pivotal moment in their relationship— Nate's in a relationship!— but excuse me for feeling like I'd stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone . I'd known Nate for a long time. I'd known him to have an almost-bitter disdain toward even the thought of relationships—and certainly toward me whenever I was in one—and to see him now wrapped in the embrace of a good woman who was happy to see him …

Well, it was fucking weird .

Crystal was the first to let go, and Nate lowered her to the ground. She took a fleeting glance in my direction and broadened her grin before bringing her sparkling gaze back to him.

Holy shit, she looked like she loved him, and he looked … fuck, he looked like he could love her too.

"Oh my God, Rev! I didn't know you were staying tonight. This is my boyfriend, Nathan." She gripped his shoulders and beamed up at him like she was standing in the middle of a Christmas party and not a strip club. "Nathan, Rev is—"

"Rev and I go way back," Nate said, looking at me over Crystal's head. "Been buddies since we were kids."

Something dark and questionable passed over his gaze then, and all I could think was, There you are .

***

Nate and I settled at a table while Crystal grabbed us a couple of drinks after delivering the ones already on her tray. We glared at each other, never breaking eye contact, as if we were partaking in an undeclared staring contest. Silent dares for the other to speak first passed over the tabletop, but neither of us seemed to have anything to say until Crystal returned with two glasses of beer balanced on her tray.

"Here you go, guys," she said, placing them on the table between us. "Rev, are you taking Indie home tonight? I was going to, but …" Her eyes flitted toward Nate with a suggestive look, as if to say, Well, we both know what I'd rather do instead .

"I'll take her," I said, forcing a lightness in my tone that didn't even come close to touching my soul. Not when I was still staring ahead at Nate and that suspicious look in his familiar, cold eyes.

What the fuck have you been up to?

"Oh my God, you're the best," Crystal said, grabbing my shoulder and squeezing out her gratitude. "Baby, you wanna come over tonight?"

Nate was the one to lose the staring contest when he turned to meet her eyes with a smile. "Yeah, babe. I'm there."

"Jagger is going to be so excited," she said with a short, wistful sigh. "But, okay, I have to get back to work. You guys chat, and I'll tell Indie you're taking her home, okay, Rev?"

"Yep."

"And, hey, baby, if you're a good boy, I'll give you a special little dance after my set," Crystal added with a giddy little giggle before bouncing away.

Nate watched her go while I watched him, my fingertips absentmindedly collecting the condensation from my glass as it dripped onto the table. A longing I knew well softened his features as she retreated, and it was quickly accompanied by a flicker of possessive jealousy. I could only imagine what she was doing behind me with a customer—or what a customer was doing to her. Under different circumstances, I might've said something helpful, man to man, and maybe I would later, but …

"The fuck are you doing, Nate?" I growled instead, my voice low, but not so low that he couldn't hear me.

He looked back to me then, schooling his face into that snide look I knew too well. "What do you mean, the fuck am I doing? I should be asking you the same question, asshole, except …" He smirked and tipped his head. "I already know what you haven't told me. I've seen you outside, working the door."

I held my head high, tipping my chin to look at him askance. "Is that what you've been doing, Nate? You're following me? Is that how you met Crystal? Because, I swear to God, if you—"

"You're fuckin' crazy—you know that?" he cut me off. "No, I'm not fucking stalking you. I dropped Crys off a few weeks back and saw you at the door."

"And you just knew it was me?"

He huffed something that almost sounded like a laugh. "Oh, ‘cause there're a million guys out there who look just like you. Sure."

His attention bounced from me to look toward the stage, where Kate was still dancing, slowly walking across the stage and taking to the pole once more. His eyes widened at the sight of her, salacious interest twitching at the corners of his mouth for the briefest of moments, and I smacked the table with flattened palms, sending the glasses of beer rattling and sloshing.

"Don't you dare fucking look at her," I ground out from between clenched teeth.

An understanding dawned on him as he slid his reptilian glare back to me. "She's that bitch who made you jizz in your pants," he said, his voice breathless with wondrous recollection. "Holy shit, tell me you're fucking her."

My crazed brain hung on that one word— bitch, bitch, bitch —until it ran into itself on an endless, insane loop. Bitch-bitch-bitch .

My brows lowered, and my fists clenched. "I swear to you, Nate, I will—"

"Nah, you're not fucking her," he interrupted, wagging his finger at me. "No, I know you, Revan. You love her. You got it fuckin' bad too. Does she know? Does she care ?"

He was talking out of his ass, looking to get a rise out of me, falling back on his old tricks. He forgot I knew him, too, and I didn't want to give in. But, dammit, the room was too hot, too noisy, too suffocated of oxygen, and I was too mad to think beyond some primal need to defend and protect.

I stood up quickly, and the chair I was sitting in fell backward, clattering to the floor. The music was playing too loudly for any customers nearby to take notice.

"Come with me," I growled beneath my breath.

"Wha—"

My hand shot out to grab Nate by the collar of his shirt, and I hauled him to his feet and forcibly made him walk beside me until we stood in a corner to the side of the bar, where Scott watched with cautious interest. I released Nate for a moment, relaxing my hands and shaking them out.

"Jesus, fuck, Rev," Nate murmured, smoothing out his shirt as he sneered. "The hell is wrong with you? You’re gonna tell me her pu—"

“Shut your fucking mouth.” I grabbed him again and shoved a finger into his face, finally asking the question I had been wondering since I’d first seen him in the club tonight. "Have you been watching her?"

Nate furrowed his brow. "Watching who ?"

"Don't play dumb with me, motherfucker. I know you . Don't ever forget that, Nate. I fucking know you ." I pulled him closer, jabbed my finger at his left eye as it danced over my face— maybe I should poke it out, and then we’d be even —and asked again, "Have you been watching her? Answer me ."

His eyes shifted to glance at the stage, where Kate continued to work the pole. I jerked at his collar, and his neck shook limply.

"You're talking about her?" he asked, his voice shaking, his breathing a little more labored.

"Holy fuck, just answer the question," I warned, a little more panicked this time. "I swear to God, if—"

"No! Fuck! No, okay?" His pulse vibrated against my knuckles.

Am I scaring him?

"I-I don't even really know her, Rev, all right?"

I studied him for all of a second, watched the frenzied flicker of his eyes as they swam over my face, searching for something . I could never know when Nate was telling the truth; he was a more skilled liar than he ever was a thief. But I did know when he was innocent, and I knew with near certainty that he wasn't the parking-lot stalker I'd grown to be so paranoid of.

I loosened my grip on his collar before letting go altogether and wiped the back of my hand over my mouth, never taking my eye off of him.

His lips spread slowly into a wild, knowing grin. "There it is," he said, his voice low.

"What?" I spat back, begrudged.

"You never had a reason to be the bad guy before," he pointed out, running his hands over the front of his shirt and smoothing out the wrinkles. "But you do now. It's her . Jesus …” He snorted a snide little chuckle. “How fucking romantic ."

I didn't like the way he was looking at me, full of pride and wonder, like a doting parent watching their baby take their first steps. I blew out a short exhale and turned away, uncomfortable under his glare.

"Sorry," I felt the need to mutter. "She's been going through some shit."

"Crystal told me."

I didn't know why that bothered me, but it did. How much did he know? What else had she told him about me or Kate or any of the others here? Wouldn't that be convenient for him to know every aspect of our lives? Wouldn't that make us perfect targets?

Stop. You don't know that he's lying .

"She told me she had a stalker before too," he said, stepping closer to talk into my ear. "You look into him yet?"

The idea had occurred to me, but she had said he was in Florida, living with his mother.

Maybe he came back for revenge.

Maybe Nate is deflecting .

"It's not him," I muttered weakly despite how unsure I was.

"You don't even know his name, do you?"

I didn't, and it wasn't lost on me how little time it had taken Nate to make me feel smaller, stupider than him. God, was this how it would be now? After I'd spent years separating myself from him, were we going to be brought back together because the women we were with worked under the same roof?

I blew out an unsteady breath as a thought suddenly struck. "Why did you wanna get together today?"

"Huh?"

I took a step back to lean against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest and keeping my eye ahead on Kate, glittering beneath the spotlight, like a North Star guiding me away from this place of darkness I only ever seemed to be in when I was with Nate.

"You were so insistent on getting together. Why? And don't tell me it was just because you wanted to confess some shit to me, all right? There was something else, so what was it?"

He mimicked my position, brushing his shoulder against mine. "Crystal has been asking me to come watch her dance, but I didn't want to just show up out of nowhere without … I don't know, making my peace with you or something," he muttered, sounding vulnerable again, like he had earlier in the parking lot of the taco truck. "I didn't want to blindside you.”

I snorted something that might’ve been a laugh as Nate continued, “I mean, I might be a piece of shit, man, but I do care about you, all right?" His voice was soft, hushed, as if he didn’t want anyone else knowing there was a heart buried somewhere in that thick, stony chest of his.

I pursed my lips and tightened my arms against my chest as I gave him a single nod. "Yeah," I grumbled. "That's what I thought."

***

Nate and I spent the rest of the night together at the table, but neither of us said a word until we stood in the parking lot after closing, Crystal by his side and Kate by mine.

“This is so crazy,” Crystal said, her gaze floating between Kate and me. “What are the chances that you guys would be, like, best friends?”

Nate’s eyes met mine. “Since we were kids,” he said, as if to remind me of all the time we’d spent together.

I held his gaze and asked questions I wasn’t sure he’d ever hear. Does she know the things you’ve done? Does she know about the people you’ve hurt? Does she know you’ve hurt me ?

“We should double date sometime,” Kate suggested, wrapping her arms around one of mine and holding it to her chest.

“Yeah,” I agreed loosely to appease her. “That would be cool.”

“Just tell me when,” Nate replied.

They left shortly after that. Crystal said something about needing to relieve her mother of babysitting duties, and Kate mentioned something about her dad. They hugged, Nate and I shook hands in a we’re only doing this as a show for the women sort of way, and then they were gone in their separate cars, but driving in the same direction.

Kate smiled up at me. “They’re cute together.”

I hadn’t gotten that impression personally, but I could’ve been blinded by my suspicions about Nate’s real intentions and if he was capable of truly being in a healthy, monogamous relationship.

Still, I grunted a simple, “Hmm,” and offered a nod of loose agreement as we headed toward my car.

“I told you Crystal has had horrible luck with men,” she went on. “I’ve always hoped she’d find someone good. She’s the type who needs to be in a relationship—she hates being single—so I’ve just been holding out hope she’d meet someone decent. Seems like she finally has.”

I didn’t say anything. It would’ve been unfair. There was nothing decent about my history with Nate. But then there was the recent memory of our talk at the taco truck, and he’d sure seemed pretty decent then. So, really, what the fuck did I know?

We reached my car. I unlocked it and waited for Kate to get into the passenger side.

But before she opened the door, she turned to look at me and stated, “He’s that friend you were with years ago.”

Her memory was exceptional and never ceased to astound me sometimes, and I wondered how sad that must’ve been for her to remember every single tiny detail about everything while her own father—the only family she had—forgot her .

“Yes,” I answered, looking down into her upturned face.

“He was an asshole then,” she recalled, and I nodded. “So, am I wrong for thinking he’s a good guy now?”

I smirked at that. Nate had been right about something—I did love her. Shit. I might’ve been in love with her for weeks, and I hadn’t truthfully been able to put a word to that feeling swelling inside my chest every time I looked at her until the moment he said it, but it was true. I loved her. And that feeling only grew by the second as she waited with fierce protectiveness burning bright in her eyes. Because she cared for her friend and her well-being, but she trusted me .

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “We kinda had a falling-out a few years ago, and we lost touch for a while. He seems like he’s trying to turn things around though. Told me he’s been trying to do better.”

Kate made a little contemplative sound as she nodded. “Crystal has a son. That kid has had his heart broken almost as many times as she has.” Her eyes met mine. “I’ll hurt him if he hurts them.”

“Don’t worry,” I said as I opened the car door. “I’ll kill him myself before you even get the chance.”

We were both inside the car and buckled up when everything suddenly came to a standstill. I was supposed to drive her home, but I didn’t know where she lived. I was ready to ask when she broke the silence with a confession of her own.

“I don’t want to go home.”

I looked out into the dark parking lot, the surrounding area, and all of the unknowns lurking deep in the shadows. Paranoia told me we were sitting ducks, asking for trouble by not getting the hell out of there as quickly as possible. But the underlying hurt in her voice kept me from turning the key in the ignition as I looked across the car at her. I didn’t need to coax her reasons from her though. She already wanted to tell me.

“Usually, it doesn’t bother me … or at least, I tell myself that it doesn’t. Like, I want to take care of my dad. I want to because he always took care of me, even at times when I knew he didn’t want to or when he had no idea how to even take care of a girl all on his own. He did it anyway, so I feel like … I don’t know … like …”

“Like you owe it to him?” I offered quietly, not intending to interrupt and put a wrinkle in her train of thought.

One side of her mouth twitched, like it didn’t know if it should smile or frown. “Yeah,” she whispered. “And like I said, usually, it doesn’t bother me. I’m glad to help him. But sometimes, I think of all the time in my own life I’m not getting back by being there for him. And I sit here and think, What about me? When do I take care of me? When do I get to do the things I want to do instead of the things I need to do? ”

Then, she swiped at her cheek with the palm of her hand, and I realized she was crying.

“Hey,” I whispered, reaching out to lay a hand against her back.

“God,” she said, letting a mirthless laugh bubble up her throat as she sniffled and wiped at her eyes again. “You probably think I’m a coldhearted bitch.”

“What?” I shook my head, taken aback as I rushed to reassure her. “I don’t think you’re a bitch. I think you’re human .”

The tears streamed faster down her face, and I reached across her lap to open the glove compartment, where I pulled out a few fast-food napkins and handed them to her.

A watery laugh-slash-sob escaped her lips, followed by a croaked, “Thanks.”

She wiped her eyes, and I rubbed her back in small, slow circles until her tears stopped and her shallow breaths relaxed.

“So,” I said once she laid the used napkins in her lap and rested her head against the back of the car seat, “what do you want to do?”

Her chest rose with a deep breath as she looked at me, longing desperation in her eyes. “I want you to take me back to your house, and I want to fall asleep in your bed,” she whispered as if it were a secret.

My heart was buzzing as a sudden rush of blood was sent south. “Okay. And you don’t think—"

“I already told my dad’s nurse I wasn’t coming home tonight,” she admitted, and I suppressed the need to moan. “I just … I feel so guilty. I feel selfish and—"

“You’re human,” I reminded her quietly. “And you’re allowed to want the things you want.”

“But will your parents mind? I wasn’t thinking about that. I just couldn’t get my mind off of … earlier, and I made plans without even talking to you, and—"

I put a stop to her worrying with a pinch of her chin between my thumb and forefinger as I turned her head to face me.

“I’m driving home now,” I said, gentle but assertive. “And I’m taking you with me.”