I do the same.
“It’s been a while,” he says, calmer than I’ve ever seen him. The Trick I knew was a teenage drug user and an addict, always on edge and impulsive in the worst ways.
“Sure has. I heard you were out.” Might as well deal with the elephant in the room.
“It’s been a couple of weeks.” He looks around, then up at the sky. “The world’s changed but the great outdoors hasn’t.” He takes a full breath of fresh air. “Feels good, man.”
“I bet.”
“You going to invite me in? Show me what you’ve done with the place.” He tips his head toward the club and despite my agitation, I decide to let him inside.
I pull the door and it swings open. Since it’s unlocked, either Tristan or my managers are here. The thought gives me comfort.
We walk into the club, and I know what Trick sees. A high-end establishment that tells him I’ve made it. I’ve got money. My nerves ratchet up and I’m relieved to see Mak doing her thing behind the bar, and Tristan sitting on the other side, his laptop open.
At the sound of our entrance, Tristan lifts his head. “Morning.”
“Hey.”
Trick follows me toward where Tristan is sitting.
Drawing a deep breath, I begin introductions. “Tristan, this is Trick Henderson, Trick, one of my partners, Tristan Hayes.”
Tristan’s eyes flare for a moment, obviously recognizing the name, before he reins in any emotion and extends his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Trick steps around me and shakes his hand. “Same.”
I’d introduce Mak, but I don’t want to draw his attention to the pretty woman behind the bar.
Trick turns toward me. “Can we talk?” he asks.
I give Tristan a subtle nod.
He closes his laptop and rises to his feet. “I have a few things to do in the back,” he says, and I know he’ll be nearby if I need him.
Mak meets my gaze, then follows Tristan away from the bar.
I don’t offer Trick a drink. One, I doubt his parole officer would like it, and two, I’m better off getting him out of here as soon as possible. “You wanted to talk?” I ask him.
Trick shoves his hands back in the front pockets of his jeans. “I just wanted to check in. Tell you no hard feelings.”
I narrow my gaze. It can’t be that easy.
“Hey, I see you’re not buying it but, I swear, man, it’s true. For years, I held on to my anger, but I started going to NA while I was inside. Never thought the old make amends thing was for me but…” He lifts his shoulders. “It works. I was older and you looked up to me. I liked the feeling, you know? But I led you down a shitty road. And I’m sorry.”
I’m floored. Never thought I’d hear those words come out of Trick’s mouth. Watching him now, his chill behavior, his sincerity, I want to believe him. “I’m happy for you. Glad the program is working.”
He nods. “I got a job at a gas station. I’m living in a halfway house for now. I knew better than to go back to where I came from.”
“I hope things work out for you,” I say. “I never wanted to turn you in,” I tell him. My mind goes back to the day Matthew Carras told me I had no choice if I wanted to stay with them, and my stomach churns the same way now as it did then.
“But you landed with good people,” Trick says. “You got lucky and you got out. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.” He pauses, then says, “I’m going to make it, too.”
And damn if I don’t believe him.
We part ways and I doubt I’ll see Trick again, but my heart is lighter having talked to him. Over time, I know his visit will help me come to terms with my role in his imprisonment and the guilt I’ve lived with, despite him ending up where he belonged. He has a second chance, and I hope he takes it.
Tristan walks back to the bar and pulls up a seat beside me. “Everything okay?”
