I nod. “Thank you, but cancel as much as you can. Make up an excuse… I don’t want people to know about it yet. Okay?”
He studies me, his brow furrowed.
“In case…” I breathe out slowly. “If I somehow do manage to come back… I don’t want to lose the clients we worked so hard to get. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
Lou’s expression softens. “You’re gonna come back,” he says, his voice firm. “And when you do, I’m making you teach all the hard combos so I can yell at the teenagers and pretend I’m nice.”
I smile. “How’s Andy?”
Lou takes a sip of his drink. “Still refusing to buy real soap. Swears by this three-in-one bottle that says ‘body, hair, and grill cleaner.’”
I choke on a laugh. “No.”
“Oh yes. Andy and his cheap-ass ways. But he pays most of the bills, so I let him keep his illusions.”
“Someone’s gotta keep you in check. How much did those pants cost?” I lift my glass toward him.
He gasps, hand flying to his chest. “Excuse you. They’re vintage.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I keep him on his toes.”
I smile again. “Is he still being haunted?”
“Oh yeah. Yesterday he said he thinks the ghost has been stealing his socks, and honestly? I didn’t even argue. I was like, good. Let her.”
We both dissolve into laughter. For a moment, with the martini cold in my hand and my friend’s grin across the coffee table, everything almost feels okay again.
Then his voice quiets, the playful energy draining from the space between us. “Sisk…” he pauses, and looks at me again. “Are you going to tell me how it happened?”
My smile fades.
He raises his hands gently. “I don’t want to pry. I just… I’m not actually sure. Do we like Jax or do we hate him right now?”
I take a sip of my drink, trying not to think about it.
“I mean…” he swallows, his gaze drifting toward the hallway Jax disappeared down. “I know somehow he was involved. He told me it was his fault. And he’s you know… so angry.” He shakes his head, his eyes distant, clearly still wrestling with the memory. “There was this moment,” he adds, his voice dipping to a near-whisper. “His eyes looked—” He stops himself, cutting the thought short. He shrugs, a forced casualness. “Never mind. I was probably just freaked out. I sound like Andy now.”
“Lou—”
“I don’t know, Sisk. It wasn’t human. Not exactly.”
I don’t know what to say.
“But then I thought about it,” he continues, his focus returning to me. “I mean… it’s Jax, right? He’s always been there when you needed him. Building the studio at night, remember?Driving your parents to appointments. Helping Millie. I don’t know. But…”
He looks at me, his expression so honest, so torn.
“It was an accident,” I say carefully, placing my glass on the napkin. “He would never hurt me. Not on purpose.”
Lou doesn’t say anything right away. He just studies me, his eyes searching my face like he’s checking for cracks I might be trying to paint over.
“Sisk…” he says softly, the words barely audible. “He does frighten me.”
I swallow hard. “He scares me too, sometimes,” I admit, the confession feeling fragile. “But not in the way you think. Not like he’s going to snap or lose control or—I don’t know. Not like he’s a danger. More like…” I trail off, trying to find the right way to express all the mess. “More like I’m scared of how much he holds in. How much he won’t say. There’s a whole world in there and I’m just walking the edges of it, trying not to fall in.”
Lou gives me a look of understanding.
