“What do you know about the journalist?”
We had an audience. The music was drowning out most of our conversation, but anyone standing near us could hear. In the VIP section, that still left a lot of ears, given it was such a small area.
“Enough.” Her perfectly manicured brow rose as she tried to bait me.
I cocked my head to the side. She was lying. She didn’t know Willow.
I’d told Willow about her one night, when we’d talked about our exes. I admitted that she was the closest thing I had to an ex, at least in the last ten years. I explained who she was, and what she did for a living. Willow knew what cage bunnies were because she’d seen them before. Luckily, her path hadn’t crossed with Simone’s yet.
Simone knew how to get under my skin, and she knew exactly which buttons to push to get a reaction out of me.
“You’re a fucking liar,” I spat.
“What am I lying about? I said I knew enough about her.” She took two gulps of whatever she had in her glass.
I glanced to either side of me, wanting to get the confrontation over with. But not before I found out what her angle was. “What do you want, Simone? I’m not in the mood for this shit.”
She was manipulative enough for me to recognize I had something to fear. Our fallout hadn’t been pretty, and she was petty. She’d try and pay me back. Normally, I wouldn’t have even entertained her drunk ass, but her bringing Willow into the mix, changed things.
Before she could answer, I felt my phone vibrate in my jeans. Something inside my gut told me it was Willow. I wanted to answer, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hear her in the club. Plus, I wasn’t done with Simone yet. I wanted to know what her end game was.
“You. I want you,” she said. Her crooked smile was creepy.
“Not going to happen. In this lifetime, or the next.”
Staring at her now, all disheveled and wasted, only made me hate myself for going there in the first place. You get what you pay for, and a cage bunny was worth pennies compared to what I had at home.
“Someone was asking about you earlier.” She glanced down to the main floor and grinned.
Taking her lead, I looked down, and there in a crowd of hundreds, stood Mikey Godwin. My eyes widened, seeing him for the first time in over two years. Shocked, my feet were moving before I even had time to think about what I was going to do.
Anger seeped out of my pores like beads of sweat. I huffed twice, trying to stabilize my breathing. It didn’t help.
Having Mikey Godwin show up was not good. He’d been a fellow inmate in the state penitentiary, who’d once picked a fight with me behind bars. I’d kicked his ass the old school way, without a weapon, even though he’d been able to smuggle a pair of brass knuckles inside, hoping to use them on me. I didn’t give him the chance. I’d had to watch my back every day after that. But I never knew what his problem was with me, and honestly, I hadn’t cared.
I took the stairs two at a time, until I reached the club floor, quickly rounding the corner I’d seen him pass by as he walked away. Black eyes peered out from behind the pillar; a sinister smile followed close behind. His teeth were yellow. Well, at least the ones that weren’t capped with gold were.
“What do you want?” I asked.
He was alone, from what I could see. I glanced behind me once more just to be sure.
“Payne, old buddy. How are ya?” His hand reached up to touch my shoulder, but I dodged it. My instincts were working double time. I knew his reason for being at the club had nothing to do with seeing how I was doing.
“What the fuck do you want?” I asked through clenched teeth.
He grinned. “We’ve got some shit to settle.”
“No, we don’t.” Heat pulsed through my body. My fingers tingled, itching to hit him. To make him disappear.
“We’ll see about that.”
I stepped up to him, pushing my forehead into his, applying just enough pressure for him to get my point. “Leave me the fuck alone. Don’t come near me again.”
“Damn, boy.” He chuckled. “You’re tense. Guess all that time you spent behind bars made you all paranoid and shit.”
“I’m not fucking with you. Our last tussle will seem like a middle school fight if I ever see you around again,” I threatened.
I turned to leave, and he pushed me in the back. It was barely a nudge, but I felt it. I faced him, ready to stomp a mudhole in his ass, when Steele stepped in between us. He placed his palm on my chest. His eyes widened just a hair, and I knew he could feel my heart racing. My breaths were short and shallow. At best, fear was clouding my judgement where Mikey was concerned. Not fear of him, but fear that my past had finally caught up with me. Obviously, he wasn’t going to leave me alone. His nudge told me that much.
Steele stepped up to Mikey. “Dude, what’s your problem?”
Mikey shrugged, like he had no idea what Steele was talking about. “Don’t got one,” he said, and stepped back, raising both hands in the air.
Steele looked back at me. I closed my eyes, knowing I had everything to lose. I stepped back too. “A simple misunderstanding. We’re good.”
Steele wasn’t buying it. “Man—”
“I’m good. I swear. Just tired. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
Steele squinted in question, but he relented. “All right. Holler at me if you need me.”
“Seriously,” I was already walking backward, “go celebrate.”
I had planned on hailing a cab, but didn’t see one as I exited the club, so I started walking. I needed to burn some energy off anyway. Crazy amounts of energy buzzed through my body. My mind was altered to the point I couldn’t make sense of anything. After a few blocks, I remembered that Willow had called. I needed to hear her voice.
“Where are you?” she questioned without greeting me. She sounded pissed.
“I’m walking down the strip,” I answered honestly.
“Who are you with?”
“I’m by myself, why?”
“Really? Because I just saw pictures online where you were in a dark club with that skank, Simone, on your lap.”
My stomach sank. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes, and already the pictures had gone viral. This was everything I feared would happen if I went pro. “That’s not what it looked like,” I started to explain.
“Are you drunk?” she asked. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”
I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped walking. I just stood there, on the side of the street, surrounded by bright lights and a million people I didn’t know, feeling completely alone. I swallowed my denial, unable to speak. Out of all the things we’d confided in each other, all the messed-up shit I had told her about my life, and she didn’t think I could manage one weekend in Las Vegas without throwing in the towel?
My eyes focused on the homeless man to my right. He had no shoes on, only socks. His jacket had four holes in it, and the toboggan he wore was bright green. If I hadn’t seen him move, I would have thought he was dead. To the right of his thigh were two bottles of whiskey. Dark gold, and unopened.
The sounds of the night flooded my brain, and in that split second, I couldn’t hear Willow doubt me anymore. It occurred to me that being accused of being weak only made me want to prove her right.
I hung up, not even answering her, and made my way to the corner. I pulled two twenties out of my wallet and placed them in the homeless man’s lap. He didn’t respond, and by the time he reacted to the money, I’d already bent forward and picked up the bottles, not even bothering to ask him if I could buy them from him. He didn’t decline. I wouldn’t have cared if he did. My mind was made up.
The rush I got while walking away from the vagrant should have worried me, but it didn’t, because I knew all too well that once the adrenaline wore off, I’d crash like I always had. But for some reason, it wasn’t something I focused on. It was probably because it wasn’t the high I was chasing this time. It was the emptiness. I want
ed to get so lost, that even I couldn’t find my way out.
My past had caught up to me, and it only made me want to disappear even more. All I’d needed was the one person I’d put my everything into to doubt me, and the night went from bad to worse. It seemed like it had only taken thirty minutes for the past decade to crash down on me. Once I learned that Willow didn’t have any faith in me, it wasn’t as hard as I’d hoped to let go. It should have been, but it wasn’t.
I held the bottles close to my chest, like they were going to grow legs and try to escape. I walked with purpose, until I saw the bright lights of our hotel lit up perfectly in the night sky. It may as well have been a red arrow saying, This Way.
I kept to myself, not making eye contact with the people who walked past me. Head down, I took the elevator all the way up to my room, still reeling from my conversation with Willow. As much as I didn’t want to think about it, her words overtook every thought I had. She had disappointed me. She’d let me down. I thought our relationship was solid. I hadn’t realized she thought she was the only one strong enough to hold it up. It was as if she’d slapped me across the face.
Crossing the threshold of my hotel room made me feel like I vanished into another world. I turned and bolted the door shut. Not that I thought I’d be hearing from Steele, but better safe than sorry. I took a seat in the chair sitting next to the window. I peeked out the partially closed curtains, not taking anything in at first.
As much as I knew I was making a mistake, all I could focus on was giving Willow what she wanted. What she expected. Going back home and groveling, basically working my ass off to prove my innocence wasn’t what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to ever do that again. It seemed that had been my entire life up until this point. Trying to prove myself, prove to my mom that I wasn’t just a fuck-up who did everything I could to hurt her. Or proving to Steele, and anybody in a suit, that I had what it took in the cage to make a career in a profession I hadn’t trained my whole life for.
Turning to the only comfort I was willing to seek for the night, I opened the first bottle and took a swig. Fighting back tears, I continued drinking until I forgot about it all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Willow
I tried calling Conner four times, and sent him ten text messages, before I gave in and texted Steele.
Conner had hung up on me; hadn’t even apologized. At first, I was angry. How could he expect me not to be upset by another girl sitting on his lap, especially when said girl was his ex? Well, he’d assured me they’d never been exclusive, but still. She’d been his bed mate whenever he needed the warmth, and she was a cage bunny to top it off. Which meant she had very little self-respect. In my mind, anyhow. The point was, Simone wouldn’t give two shits if Conner had a girlfriend. But she also wasn’t the one in our relationship, which is why I didn’t hold her responsible. Conner should have had more respect for me than that.
I gave up on trying to get a hold of him once Steele texted me back and told me that he was fine. Conner was good, and had gone back to his hotel room. I tried not to imagine him going back to the room with her, and I had more pride in myself than to ask Steele about her.
I honestly didn’t think Conner would do that, but with a picture circulating the internet of her on my boyfriend’s lap, I couldn’t help but fear them hanging out. I mean, he was there. She was there. And I wasn’t there.
I hated picturing it. I hated picturing them in a club together, surrounded by people partying, and the alcohol flowing. I wiped a tear from my eye. I knew I’d only drive myself insane thinking about all the what ifs, if my mind kept wandering in that direction.
Since it was clear I wouldn’t be getting the answers I wanted, I gave up trying to force him to talk to me, and concentrated on work. Maybe putting my energy into something else would allow me the fortitude to not visualize the worst. Dana had given me certain freedoms with my next articles, since a few of the editors from her biggest clients had requested me specifically for future assignments.
It helped that the current project I was working on was the world according to women. Dana had some business out of town and had allowed me to choose my own topic. She said she’d shop it around once she was back in her office. For once, I was appreciative of her aloof personality. Luckily, I didn’t need much brain power to get a good hook going. I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on a topic that would take much energy, because emotionally, I was spent.
It had been a while since I had felt so off balance. I prided myself in being centered most of the time. It was one of the greatest gifts I’d been given during my stint at rehab. But I couldn’t help doubting myself, considering I had one fallout with the man I loved, and suddenly I felt like I didn’t know which way was up.
The whole thing seemed tragic somehow. I wasn’t sure how we’d gone from me wanting to stay at his house more often than my own, to us not even speaking.
Two days. One picture. And a whole lot of doubt.
I had no clue how to fix it all. I knew I wanted to, but at the same time, I was beginning to wonder if it was worth it. It worried me how he had reacted to our conflict. He just walked away at the first sign of trouble. I knew not everyone wanted to talk things out the way I did, but I was disappointed in the fact he didn’t try. He could have explained that he needed time, or he could have caught the first flight home because the woman he loved—or hated—was upset and needed him to explain why another woman was touching him. But he did none of those things. He’d done nothing. And that hurt more than anything.
***
“Hey, sweetie. I was a little surprised you called. I didn’t think I’d see you until next weekend.” My mom greeted me in her kitchen.
“You didn’t want to see me?” I teased.
“Of course I do! Get over here and give your mother a hug.”
I knew ahead of time, seeing my mom would make me feel better. Not that she could solve all of life’s problems, but a hug from her could get me through most things. I’d initially debated calling her because I knew she would worry, but letting her in on parts of my life just made me feel better. It had been a while since I’d felt so alone.
“What’s going on?”
I chuckled. “So, we’re just going to jump right to it, then?”
“You’re thinner than the last time I saw you, you have bags under your eyes, and you’re wearing your glasses rather than your contacts. These are all signs that lead me to believe you have not been taking care of yourself. And yes, as your mother, I demand to know why.” She smiled, as if she hadn’t just insulted me.
“Let me get some coffee first. This may take a while.”
Once we sat down, I spilled my guts to her like I was a fifteen-year-old girl who’d just gone through her first heartbreak. I was one hundred percent focused on giving her only the details, so that she could give me an unbiased opinion on how to handle it. That lasted for about five minutes. It didn’t take but one look from her for me to get completely honest.
I told her how I had entrusted Conner with my deepest secret, and that he’d confided in me as well. I told her how much I cared for him, and that I truly loved him. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how I felt about him, because I knew. But admitting my feelings to someone who wasn’t in our circle liberated me somewhat. Saying the words out loud to my closest family member made the relationship real.
“So, you haven’t seen him since he returned from Las Vegas?”
“Nope.” I’d considered running to his house a thousand times over the past two days, demanding he talk to me, but something always stopped me.
“Willow, if you love him like you claim, you need to talk to him. You need to fix this.”
“He won’t talk to me. I’ve tried.”
“Have you any idea what caused him to snap? What caused him to hang up on you? That was abrupt, and he never explained what his ex was doing there?” Mom had her hands clasped together and her legs crossed. She looked as if she were interv
iewing someone to clean her house.
I fought back laughter at the thought, and answered her. “I’ve had time to think about this. I believe I may have jumped to a conclusion and he took offense to it.”
“What conclusion?”
“I accused him of being drunk. That was when he hung up on me.”
Her eyes softened, and pity grew in her features. At that moment, I wasn’t feeling as confident as I had been just minutes before. “You said he had issues with alcohol?” I nodded. “And you assumed he was relapsing without him confirming it?” She leaned her head to the side.
“It seemed like he was.” I grimaced. “His voice was shaky, and did you forget the part about him being in a club with his ex on his lap? He would have had to have been drunk. Nothing else makes sense. He wouldn’t have allowed that, if he’d been sober.”
“Maybe he would. Maybe something happened right before that picture was taken. Baby girl, you know better than anyone what it feels like to be unfairly judged. It’s the main reason you don’t live at home anymore. You said so yourself.” She sighed.
Her words stung. She was right. I’d jumped to conclusions where his addiction was concerned, and I was sure, on top of all the other things he was thinking, regret at telling me his secrets was at the top. I knew what it was like once people knew about the bad decisions I’d made. It was like, no matter what I accomplished in life, they’d always remember that one time I tried to kill myself. And I’d done the same thing to Conner.
“I think I really messed up, Mom.” Tears formed behind my eyes at the revelation. “I’m not sure he’ll forgive me.”
“He will. If he loves you like you love him, he will. You just have to make him understand that your fear came from a real place. The same place he fears every time he turns his back on drinking. That dreadful place, the one that knows what can really happen if either of you give into the one thing that can ruin your life.”
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