“I can do that.”I hope.
Chapter 24
Felix
I carefully lock my bedroom door, wincing at the clicking sound it makes. I know I’m being paranoid, but any suspicious activity puts me at risk. Father’s been fuming over recent election polls all day, and his aides have been zooming about the mansion, frantically speaking to pollsters and media analysts on the phone.
This is good and bad. Good in the sense that nobody is really paying attention to me. Bad because Father is fuming and usually needs to berate somebody when he’s in that state. As long as it’s one of his aides and not me, then we’re good.
The duffel bag in my closet still has the boots I need for the evening. I dig a little deeper, find the old chest of things I keep hidden, and pull out my fishnet stockings, leather shorts, thong, and mesh crop top.
Tonight, Torren is taking me to a bar frequented by the Hellcats, and I want to look the part.
I also want to look really fucking hot.
I tear off my clothes, don the outfit for the evening, then pull on oversized sweats and sneakers. A peek out the doorconfirms the coast is clear, so I dart down the stairs, duffel bag in hand, and scurry past my father’s office. He’s still screaming at his aides, and I thank my lucky stars for the distraction as I call an Uber and scamper to the hedges bordering the wrought iron fence.
Security is still posted at the gate, so I maneuver between a natural parting of the hedges and shimmy up the fence. My feet hit the concrete beyond the gate just as the Uber pulls up, and I bolt into the car like a fucking Soviet defector.
Normally, I’d take my bike, but I want to get away from the monster stat.
“Big tip if you get the hell out of here as fast as possible.”
His foot slams the gas, and we’re on our way to the Patch.
I breathe a sigh of relief as we leave the affluent side of Belmont and cross the train tracks into the Patch.
Electricity courses through my veins as I reel down from this covert operation to go out with my “friend.”
I’m pissed that I have to do this just to go out, but I also love how rebellious it feels. The meds are totally out of my system, and I feel alive again, drawn to moments of defiant independence like a moth to a light. The ghost of Torren’s caress atCafe Bomberino’smakes my hand tingle, and my lips curl into a little smile.
The gesture didn’t feel friendly. It felt like Torren taking a step toward me—reaching across the table to offer the one thing I’ve wanted since I found her lifeless body.
Help.
Comfort.
Maybe even a hug.
My heart still longs for Torren, but I also really need connection, even if it’s platonic—someone to convince methat I’m not completely alone in this world.
The Uber rounds the corner, revealing Torren’s shop. I whip out my phone and type in the very generous tip. “I appreciate it.”
He comes to a stop and gives me a little nod in the mirror. With the duffel over my shoulder and my heart on my damn sleeve, I knock on the front entrance of Torren’s shop.
I stand there, waiting for him to open up, but he doesn’t.
My stomach drops.
A million thoughts run through my mind, making my stomach twist into painful knots. I knock again, but I’m still met with nothing.
Now, I’m mad.
I stomp around the corner to the side street that his bedroom window overlooks. The light in his bedroom is on, which gives me a little glimmer of hope. Once I’m beneath the window, I can see Torren looking into a mirror, talking to himself. Sternly.
He points at the mirror, interrogating his own reflection like a dad grilling a dude about what his intentions are with his daughter.
I’d laugh if Torren didn’t look so pained while he did it. I want to tell him to cuthimselfsome slack. It’s the weirdest feeling in the world—wanting to defend someone from…themselves.
