I love him.
The biggest question: is that enough?
I shut off the faucet with a decisive movement and grab a towel. I dry my hair, step out of the cubicle, and wrap the towel around my body.
Is it enough?
I don’t know. The most important thing in a relationship is trust. Right now there’s none, but that’s my fault. I know that. Inhaling deeply, I go to the bedroom. I slip on Kyler’s shirt and then wear my favorite red lacy hipsters. Once I’ve crawled under the blanket, I grab my cell phone and open the text thread with Teagan.
Me: Bring Gaby with you when you come over. For Rebel.
I stare obsessively at the little screen in my hand, hoping Teagan’s got nothing to do and spots my message. I’m lucky because it doesn’t take long before I get a message back.
Teag: No problemo. Does tomorrow work for you? How are you holding up over there, among all those smelly men?
I grin. There’s only one person who’s always capable of that. No matter how shitty the situation is.
Me: I’m mostly huddled in Kyler’s apartment.
Teag: You’ve got a bar below you. Drink yourself stupid, girl.
Me: Uh, I have to watch my daughter. Doesn’t seem like such a brilliant plan.
Teag: Do it when Kyler’s there. Surely he’ll watch Rebel if you need a night to forget it all, right? Otherwise, I’ll just have to have a hearty word with that prick.
That’s not it. I just don’t want Rebel to see me like that. Blowing out a breath, I think about what I’m going to tell my best friend, because I know she means well.
Me: Isn’t necessary. I’m sure he will, but I don’t want Rebel to think I’ve given up all hope.
Teag: Makes sense, but she doesn’t have to see you like that. ;)
I roll my eyes. A true Teagan answer. One which makes no sense.
Me: Just bring Gaby with you when you come over. I miss you. Even miss the hate-filled stares at the school playground. I hate my life.
Okay, I hadn’t meant to send that last bit, but didn’t give it much thought before I pressed send.
Teag: It will be alright, girl. I’ll come over as soon as I can. Did you get to admire that delicious body in that apartment yet?
Oh… this is going to be an awkward conversation.
Eighteen
Thepoundingofthemusic thunders through my entire body. It’s a wonderful feeling, but it doesn’t make my ears happy. This is exactly the reason I don’t come here often. Club V is a typical dance club where sweaty bodies rub against each other on the dance floor under the overly hot disco lights and to the sound of a pounding bass. The floors are dark wood and the walls are lined with something resembling the material of a black bubble envelope. The walls hold a few soft, V-shaped lamps, softly illuminating the tables lining the room.
In the back is a flight of stairs to the VIP area. Brooks and I weave through the crowd to get to a security guard. I try my best not to touch anyone, but that’s quite a task with these crowds. We come to a stop in front of a guy a couple of inches shorterthan me, but twice as wide. He pats us down, and once he’s done, we’re allowed up the stairs.
As soon as Vigo sees us, he gets up and walks over to Brooks. Arms wrap around each other and backs get slapped. “It’s been a long time,” he says with a smile on his face. He’s twice as wide as I remember and his hair’s all gone, too.
I walk over to Viktor and offer the man a hand. “We appreciate you taking the time to meet with us.”
The older Russian merely nods toward the chair on the other side of the coffee table from where he sits.
“Chetyre vodki,” he says to the waitress, walking by in her barely there skirt. All I understand from that isvodki, which is obviously vodka. “Okay, guys,” Viktor says as Vigo sits next to him and Brooks in the chair next to me. “What are you guys want to talk about?” His Russian accent is very clear. Somehow it doesn’t surprise me, but on the other hand it does because Vigo hardly speaks with an accent.
“Do you know Connor Hayes?” I slouch in the chair and watch as the server sets down four glasses of vodka. I was right after all.
“Connor? Yeah, he done my finances couple times. Good guy. What’s with ‘im?” Viktor gestures to the glasses and empties his into his throat.
