17 Kimber
After the disastrous friend arrangement, I’m almost glad I can’t go back to Sins yet. The dismissal I promised Jo so I could prove my case was nowhere to be found, and after several missed calls to James he finally called me back.
The case was supposed to be dismissed, but they are trying to appeal. Not even just appeal, but force a charge of some sort. Murder didn’t work, so now it’s premeditated murder and negligence that the gun went off at all.
I think that’s what the paper said anyway. It was delivered certified mail to my job of all places two hours ago, and my only saving grace was no one was around to see my mortification.
For being the so-called victim, everyone’s done a fantastic job making me feel like a villain. It’s hard to be happy that I lived through something traumatic when very few people are actually happy with me.
It makes my mind drift to Rich, who stayed at my apartment for the entire night despite the fact that I basically trapped him there. That was three days ago, and between our work schedules I haven’t had the chance to see him again. He’s got a crazy amount of deliveries ahead of Halloween next week, and it makes it difficult to see him.
I miss his presence, and I feel a little foolish saying that. There wouldn’t be anything to miss if I didn’t decide to rattle offhis address one night to my driver. Now we’re tangled together, and I still don’t know if that’s benefiting or hindering me.
“Hey look!” a guy calls, speaking to his girlfriend halfway across the store. They’ve been here a while and look like they are going a little overboard getting themed things for the holiday. “Candy corn butt plug, babe.”
Yep. Some things don’t need a dash of Halloween; they’re fine just the way they are.
A few minutes pass as I scroll on my phone, missing the little plastic bottles I usually have to get me through the shift. Rich mentioned over the phone yesterday that he thought maybe I could find a way to cope that didn’t involve drinking, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I’ve never tried, and to be honest, alcohol is a comfort.
The door jingles and I glance over, doing a double take when I recognize the person walking into the store. He looks out of place in the snazzy suit, his hair perfectly styled like usual, and I can admit I’ve never actually seen the mannotwearing a suit.
“David,” I say, surprised. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“That’s because I prefer to shop at Sins,” he tells me, pausing to lean against the counter. He’s a good looking man, he’s just never quite been my type. His hair is thick and a little shaggy on top, yet he’s still had it styled in that effortless way guys tend to do their hair. His blue eyes study me as we stand together, and I nervously find myself shifting back.
He’s never been here before so… why now?
“You haven’t been to the club in weeks,” he says, and I’m stunned enough that he would even remember something like that that my response is delayed.
I gape like a fish for too many moments before finally finding my senses. “How did you even notice that?”
“Well Callie’s kind of in a mood,” he says knowingly, causing me to snort. “She seems to miss you. Nate too. In fact I’ve heard several regulars inquire about you.”
That feels… good? When people worry about you though, there’s a chance you’ll somehow fail them, and that just fills me with dread. I clear my throat and attempt to act casual. “I see.”
David nods, and I can tell there’s more. There’s always more. “Emilio mentioned something about court documents delivered in an unaddressed envelope?”
Goddamnit. “I see he’s oversharing.”
“It’s just a curious thing to hear about when you’re suddenly missing from the club,” he says, and there’s no judgment in his tone. There’s definitely curiosity, but so far he’s not pushing. He’s almost businesslike. “Kimber, you do know I’m a defense attorney, right?”
My gut tightens, and I lean back from him. “I’m aware.”
He tilts his head. “If you don’t have a good attorney on your side, things can go to shit really quickly. Whatever the problem was, did your attorney do a good job resolving it?”
I blink at him. This can't seriously be real, but he seems to be genuinely curious. “It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated like your case is complicated or complicated because your attorney did a terrible job explaining things to you and now you're lost?”
I grind my teeth together. “Have you been talking to Rich?”
“Recently? No.” He gives me a pointed look. “You’re sure things are handled? It’s weird not having you at the club and if there’s something I could do to help, I’d like to.”
My eyes narrow a little. Someone had to tip him off that things aren’t going great, but I can’t quite decide who. David is good friends with Emilio and Russell, so there’s a chance Rich said nothing to him and they did. “You just want to… help.”
David rolls his eyes. “Sometimes people just like to be nice, Kimber. Even Myla mentioned that you’ve been missing lately.”
Oh, well, Myla is nice. I know that once she joined all her friends followed, and it's just been waves of new people since. She’s been with the club now for more than a year, and I figured since we never interact that I would be nothing more than background noise in her head. The only reason I’ve ever even noticed the couple is because Myla has an exhibition kink and David seems to have no problem at all showing her off.
