by Nina Levine
I stared at him for a beat. “So long as no one else murders someone I love, we’re good.”
“Jesus, Tatum.” He waved me away. “Go. Take care of business and try to stay out of fucking trouble.”
* * *
I found Posey in the dressing room. Her eyes came straight to mine and I nodded at the regret I saw there. Taking a seat next to her, I said, “You fucked up.”
She fidgeted in her lap, but she didn’t shift her gaze. “Yeah,” she agreed on a long exhale of breath.
“I’m presuming it was Dwayne’s.” At her nod, I asked, “Why?”
Hands still fidgeting, she mumbled, “He threatened to kick me out if I didn’t score for him. The cops picked me up before I got home with it.”
I stared at her for a long moment. Posey was one of our best strippers, always in demand as well as one of the easiest girls we worked with. Nothing was ever too much of an ask for her and she never caused problems for the other girls or the customers. But she had a personal life from hell that caused her no end of issues, which then became my issues. “Fuck, Posey, we’ve talked about this before. Dwayne is a dick and you need to get your shit together where he’s concerned. If a guy loves you, he’s not going to threaten to kick you out all the time just to get what he wants from you.”
She nodded like she understood and agreed, but I knew she didn’t. Posey was too damaged to understand her own worth. I doubted her ability to stand up to Dwayne, but that never stopped me from trying to get through to her. “I know, Tatum, but you don’t understand how hard it is for me. He’s all I’ve got. I don’t have any family or friends to rely on, and I know you said you’d help, but—”
I stood and paced in front of her, angry at her woe-is-fucking-me attitude. “That’s bullshit you keep telling yourself, Posey, and I’m not interested in hearing it anymore.” I jabbed my chest. “I have one family member left in my life. Besides her, I have Billy and that’s it, so don’t give me that sob story, because you’re not the only person in the world who doesn’t have a tonne of people in their corner. You rely on yourself in this world, and if you can’t, you find a way to get through until you can.”
Her eyes widened as she took in everything I said. Swallowing hard, she whispered, “I don’t know how.”
“Do you want to try?”
She blinked as she stared up at me. “I think so.”
I shook my head. “Not good enough. It’s either a yes or a no answer. Do you want to leave Dwayne and sort your life out?”
I expected her eyes to dart away from mine, but she surprised me when she held my gaze. “Yes.” Her voice may have still had a trace of uncertainty in it, but it didn’t waver like I thought it would.
Nodding, I said, “Okay then. What time does Dwayne finish work?”
“Five this afternoon.”
“I want you to go home and pack a bag, just the essentials. Then I want you to come back here so I can take you to my cousin’s place and get you settled. I’ll organise for one of our guys to go back with you in a day or so to get whatever else you want, but for now just pack some clothes and toiletries.”
She frowned. “I’m working tonight so maybe I should just stay here until after my shift.”
“No, Dwayne will come looking for you. I’m going to get one of the other girls to fill your shift tonight. I want to give you some time away from him, somewhere he won’t find you.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“Yeah. Promise me you won’t fuck this up, Posey.”
She lost her cool then, and tears fell down her cheeks. Wiping at the tears madly, she said, “I’m gonna go to jail, aren’t I? For those drugs.”
I reached out and moved a stray piece of her hair out of her eyes. Shaking my head, I said, “No, I’ll get you a good behaviour bond.”
Staring at me in disbelief, she said, “But the cop told me they’d lock me away for this.”
I crouched in front of her. “Babe, why do you think Billy keeps me around? It’s sure as hell not to dazzle customers with my exceptionally bright smile. You concentrate on that and I’ll do what I do.”
My phone buzzed with a text.
Billy: Get your ass back here. Doc is on his way.
Standing, I looked down at Posey. “I gotta go. Text me when you get back.”
As I headed to Billy’s office, I sent a text to Duvall, my contact in the public prosecution’s office.
Me: Lunch is on me today.
Duvall: No.
Me: You still owe me, Duvall.
Duvall: You’re never gonna let that go, are you?
Me: No, those days are long gone.
Duvall: Fuck.
Me: Twelve at the usual place.
Duvall: Screw you, Tatum.
Me: See you then.
Duvall, of all people, should have known the devil always came collecting once you’d made a deal.
* * *
The busy lunch crowd hum filled my ears as I took a seat in the café Duvall and I used to meet at for lunch almost every day for two years straight.
How times change.
His eyes met mine, concerned, before he took another look at my bruises. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Let’s just say I had a difference of opinion with someone. I look like I lost, but I actually won in the end, so can we not talk about this anymore.”
The concern lingered in his expression, but he frowned. Duvall knew that when I didn’t want to have a conversation it was fruitless to pursue it. “Our friendship is slowly disintegrating, Tatum. I try like hell to be there for you, but you freeze me out and only call when you want something. I’m almost done.”
I ran my gaze over him. Times might have changed, but Duvall hadn’t. He still wore his blond hair cut close to his head, and he still wore the same dark suit he’d always worn. And he still refused to acknowledge or care that nearly every set of eyes in the café was on us, judging us, just like they always were whenever we met.
“I’m a bitch, but I’m a bitch you can’t hate, Duvall. Too much has happened between us for that. And as much as you might believe our friendship is dying, it’s simply not true.” I leaned forward. “Even after all this time, you haven’t told me you want to meet somewhere else, away from prying eyes. Why is that?”
“Because I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of the fact I am still your friend. But I will tell you that just because I don’t care about the opinions of others, I do care that you’re using me.”
“I’m not using you. I’m calling in what I’m owed.”
His shoulders tensed and he scowled. Raking his fingers through his hair, he muttered, “Jesus Christ, is that fucking deal ever going to stop haunting me?”
“The old me would have said yes, but the new me can’t. You know that.”
“I liked the old you much better.”
“Yeah, well you should forget her because she’s never coming back. Now we both have to deal with Billy and whatever he throws our way.”
“You have a choice when it comes to Billy, but I don’t seem to have that luxury.”
I stared at him. “You think I had a choice when he was the only one offering me a job in this fucking city?”
“You always had a choice, Tatum, you just made the wrong one. And you still are. You’re smarter than this life you’ve chosen.”
A shiver of annoyance ran through me. He had no idea why I’d made the choices I did. “You know what, Duvall? Billy might be a criminal and involved in some dirty shit, but for the first time in my life, I feel accepted, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for when I worked on the other side of the law.”
He raised his brows. “Involved in some dirty shit? That’s a fucking understatement. The man runs one of the dirtiest operations in this state. Hell, he is the definition of dirty. You’ve changed completely since you left the law—tattoos, gambling, drinking… if that’s what feeling accepted does for you, I’d hate to see what not feeling a
ccepted would look like.”
I shifted forward in my seat. “I haven’t changed. I simply stopped trying so hard to be something I wasn’t.”
“No, Tatum, you let yourself be swallowed by the filth and the grime. You took so many wrong turns that you just don’t know the right way anymore. Saying yes to the devil too many times will do that to a person.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I also believed the devil had a way of showing a person who they really were underneath all the layers of pretence society encouraged. “I just let my demons out to play, Duvall.”
His eyes turned cold before he averted his gaze, looking at something over my shoulder. He was silent for a moment except for a few angry breaths. Then he turned his attention back to me and leaned his arms on the table. “Whatever it is you need from me today, you’ve got, but if you still want a friendship with me, this is the last time. And for the record, I would have loved you, demons and all. You didn’t have to hide them or pretend they didn’t exist.”
Heaviness settled deep in my chest at his declaration. I wanted to reach out and touch him, maybe hold his hand, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Duvall wanted something from me I didn’t have to give. Not anymore. Instead, I pulled a slip of paper out of my bag and slid it across the table to him. “I need these charges to either go away or for her to be given a good behaviour bond only.”
He took the paper, his eyes never leaving mine. Searching for something. What, I wasn’t sure. He’d never find it, though. Duvall was always looking for the good in people, the redeemable. I didn’t have much of either anymore.
As I walked away from him a few minutes later, I said, “For the record, you could never have loved my demons, Duvall. If you got a good look at them, you’d run as fast as you could. And I wouldn’t blame you.”
* * *
“Holy fuck, Tatum. Who the hell did that to you?” My cousin, Monroe, stared at me in shock, her heavily made-up eyes glued to the bruises visible on my arms, neck and face.
I grabbed her around the arm as I moved past the front counter of her tattoo parlour where she stood. Pulling her with me, I said, “You need to make me a coffee.”
Her brows arched. “Shit.” She knew that meant I had something to tell her that she probably wouldn’t like. Glancing at Fox, the only staff member there that day, she said, “I’ll be out the back for a bit. Yell if you need me.”
He looked up from the tattoo he was working on, showing me those beautiful blue eyes of his that I could get lost in for hours, and smiled as he nodded. Fox and I had a history of the kind of sex you had when you were lonely or just needed to work the tension out of your body. He was the perfect guy for that, being that he ran from relationships as much as I did.
When I had Monroe alone in her staff kitchen, I closed the door and took a moment to collect my thoughts. “He’s dead.”
She stilled and her breathing slowed. Her long eyelashes did a slow sweep of her skin as she closed her eyes briefly. She then exhaled the kind of breath that felt like it had been trapped inside for years. I knew, because I’d exhaled that same breath. “Good.”
I leaned against the counter, placing my hands on it either side of me. “He did this to me.”
She lowered her gaze to take in the bruises again. “Babe, how are you even opening that eye? It’s so fucking swollen. And how the hell did you go from him beating you to you killing him? Have you got some Lara Croft moves I don’t know about? Why the hell were you alone with him? And did you go to the doctor? I can take you if you haven’t.”
I smiled. Monroe was my person, and she always wrapped me in love. She never failed to find a way to sprinkle some light over my darkness. “Billy called a doctor this morning. Nothing broken and nothing they can do for me. I’ll heal in time.” I lowered my voice, although I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like speaking softly would change anything about what I was going to tell her. “I found him at the casino and went back to his room with him. I would have killed him if things hadn’t turned to shit. A Storm biker saved me. He killed him.” We never had secrets and I knew she would keep this information to herself.
Her eyes widened. She knew this was bad news. Monroe had been around the block a few times with me; she understood how this city worked. “Fuck, the fucking irony. You replace one nightmare with another, and they both involve bloody bikers.” She frowned. “He left you there?”
I shook my head. “No, he took me with him. I know you don’t love Billy, but I’m only breathing today because of my association with him.”
She scrubbed a hand over her face. “Jesus, Tatum.” Pointing a finger at me, she said, “You have to get out of Sydney now. Right fucking now!”
She’d been telling me this for months and I’d been ignoring her, needing to see retribution for Chris’s death. What she didn’t grasp was that now it was too late. “I can’t. Storm have people everywhere, Monroe. You don’t escape them. And they have ways of using family to get what they want. I won’t put you in it like that.”
“Fucking put me in it! I don’t care. I just want this to all stop for you.” Moving closer to me, she said, “Your life went to shit when Randall screwed you over and I just want to see you smile again.”
I took her hand. “I’m safe so long as I don’t talk. And I have no plans to do that. I just would have preferred not to get myself on their radar.”
She processed that and then said, “Do you want to stay with me?”
I tried not to smile. “So you can keep me safe?”
Her smile matched mine. “Smartass. I could, you know. You might be Lara Croft reincarnated, but I’ve got skills.”
Letting go of her hand, I said, “I know. I’ve seen you take guys on. You’ve injured many balls in your life.”
“They all deserved it.” She sighed. “I’m sick of men, Tatum. Why can’t we find the good ones? They have to exist somewhere out there.”
“What’s your definition of good, though? Maybe you’re expecting something that just isn’t realistic.” I was glad to change the course of the conversation from Storm to her issues with men. Talking about bikers was the last thing I wanted to be doing. And Monroe and I were so close that I knew she’d changed the subject on purpose.
“At this point, I’d settle for a few things—honesty being at the top of the list.”
“A-fucking-men. What else?”
“God, I just want someone who knows when to take charge and when to back the fuck off and give me some space. I’m sick and tired of men who want to try to control me, or at the other end of the spectrum, men who don’t have any balls to go with their dick. And a guy who picks up after himself would be fucking awesome. Oh, and a piercing or two. Before I die, I need to be fucked with a pierced dick.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Good luck on finding a man who picks up after himself. I’m sure the rest should be manageable. And if push comes to shove, surely you could just sleep with a guy who gets his dick pierced here.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you, I don’t sleep with customers.”
I shrugged. “You could make an exception for that. It’s not like you’d have to see him again.”
“Babe, I’m not you. I actually want a relationship and hate one-night stands.”
“I don’t love one-night stands.”
“True, but you also don’t want a guy to get too close.” She paused for a moment. “Not every guy is Randall.”
I sucked in a breath at the mention of him again. “Can we not say his name again today? It’s been a bad enough day as it is.”
She flicked her long red hair and frowned. “Whose name? I have no idea who you are talking about.”
“Yeah, me either.” I pushed a stray hair out of my eyes. “I need to ask you a favour.”
She smiled. “Anything, you know that.”
“One of my girls needs a place to stay while I help her leave the guy she’s living with. He’s an ass and I’m concerned what he might do once she leaves, so I wa
nt to find her a place he would never find her.”
“Of course. And if he does come around, remember, I’ve got skills. I could take him on,” she said with a grin.
I laughed. “You could. Thank you, I owe you one.”
My phone sounded with a text.
Duvall: All sorted.
Me: My demons thank you.
He didn’t reply, so I looked back up at Monroe when she asked, “Who’s that?”
“Duvall. I think he’s done with me.”
“No, he’s not. That man has it bad for you.”
“Not anymore, but that’s a good thing. I don’t want to drag him into my shit.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you ever consider dating him when you two got close?”
Memories of Duvall being there for me after my marriage exploded filled my mind. I allowed myself a moment to dwell in them, because while that was one of the hardest times of my life, he’d made me feel hope. But hope wasn’t always productive. How could it be when the dark had already consumed you? When you couldn’t remember what light looked like anymore.
My shoulders sagged as I answered her honestly. “I thought about being with him. I thought about how different he’d be to what I’d always known in a partner, and I wanted that. But I don’t know the first thing about giving that kind of love back, Monroe. I’d ruin Duvall if I gave myself to him, because dark will always kill light.”
“Or maybe light would mix some new shinier colours,” she said softly.
I loved her for being a dreamer. As much as I’d given up on in life, I still held onto some of my tattered dreams. Monroe was the one person who helped me remember to breathe life into those dreams occasionally.
As I left Monroe’s, a text buzzed through.
Duvall: You’re wrong. I could never run from your demons.
9
