“No, you don’t get it.” His gaze slides to my mouth before lifting back to my eyes. “What do you think will happen when I walk you to your door?”

I shrug, catching his drift but playing dumb, just so I can see what he says. He stands up and leans in, reaching to grab an olive. When he looks at me again, his eyes have that smoldering quality to them that he can’t hide from me completely, the one that makes my knees wobble.

“At home, we don’t have Godzilla chaperoning us.” His head jerks toward Nate, who’s ever watchful of Trent’s close proximity.

I put on my best confused look. “Well Nate’s not there when you walk me to my door during the day.”

He chuckles softly. Yup, there they are. Those deep dimples that I want to run my tongue against. “You know you’re shit at playing dumb.”

I press my lips together to keep from smiling.

Trent leans further against the bar, close enough that I’m the only one who can hear him. “I have a hard enough time keeping my hands off you all day. I wouldn’t stand a chance, knowing you’re about to get undressed and climb into bed.”

I brace myself against the counter as I watch him slide an olive in his mouth, his tongue curling around it.

So he wants to play dirty …

For the next week, I scavenge Storm’s closet, picking the shortest, tightest, outfits I can find. I almost take her sequined stage outfits one night. I make a point of leaning over in front of Trent often throughout the night, swaying my hips to the music. When Ben makes a snide comment about me getting ready for my first stage performance, I nail him in the solar plexus and continue on my way, earning a deep roar of laughter from Nate.

But I can’t seem to break this new resolve Trent has. He only watches, resting on his elbows with his hands folded in front of me. Watching me move. Watching me flirt with him. Watching me turn myself into a hot mess over him.

Finally, one night, I lose it.

“Dammit, Trent!” I snap, slamming his club soda on the counter in front of him. He looks taken aback. “What the hell do I have to do to get your attention? Do I need to get up there?” I throw an arm toward the stage.

His eyes swell for just a second, in shock. He reaches forward to hold my hands, but he catches himself in time and instead folds them across his chest. “Believe me, you have my full attention.” He gives me a heated look that makes my mouth dry up instantly. “You always have my attention. It takes every ounce of my control not to show you how much attention you have.” As quickly as that look came, it slides off. “I want you to get help, Kace,” he says softly. “I’m here for you, every day. Always. I’ll stand by you the entire time, but you need to get help. No human can bury their past indefinitely. It’s only a matter of time before you crack.”

“This is sexual blackmail!” I hiss. First, he tried to force me into talking with that galactic hands free orgasm and that back-fired. Now he’s withholding completely as a means to forcing me. Bastard! I stalk away, refusing to look at him for the rest of the night.

The next shift at Penny’s, Trent is proven right.

Chapter Thirteen

Storm is doing her acrobat thing on stage and I’m watching her, stealing frequent glances at my new phone for a text from Trent. Nothing. He’s not here tonight. It’s the first night he hasn’t been here in a long time and I feel his absence like a missing limb. Maybe he’s finally given up on me. Maybe he realized I’m a lost cause and he won’t be getting laid anytime this century if he waits for me to break down and seek out therapy.

Storm’s feet touch down on the stage to a raucous round of applause. She bends down to pick up her top, covering her breasts as best she can with an arm. I’ve seen Storm topless so many times by now, I don’t bat an eye. In fact, I’m getting used to naked females all around me. I’m starting to feel like the weirdo in the trench coat in the middle of a nudist beach.

Storm’s amazing, I think for the hundredth time, as the entire place claps and hoots. Everyone except a scrawny guy in the corner. I see him there, shouting at her, waving a fist full of money. He refuses to give it to the bouncer collecting for her. I get the impression that Nate’s about to toss him out on his skinny ass.

And then I don’t know how it happens, but the guy somehow scampers past the bouncers and onto the stage, screaming, “Bitch!” A blade appears. I watch in horror as he grabs hold of Storm’s hair and yanks her head back. Even from my distant vantage point, I see his dilated dark pupils. This guy’s on something.

My jaw drops to scream, but nothing comes out. Not a sound. With a swing of my arm to clear all the glasses off the bar, I spring over and run, shoving people out of the way, kicking and kneeing and punching as I clear a path through. Blood rushes to my head and my feet pound the ground with each heartbeat and all I can think is that I’m going to lose her. Another friend, dead. Mia will grow up without her mother.

This can’t be happening again.

I reach the stage to find a cluster of tight black shirts hovering. I can’t see Storm. I can’t see anything. I push and shove and claw, but I can’t get past the wall. My hands fly to my throat, assuming the worst possible outcome hidden beneath this horde of bodies.

And I pray.

I pray to whoever decided to keep me alive that they grant the same grace for Storm, who deserves it far more than I ever did.

A giant erupts from the crowd bouncers.

Nate.

And he has the guy within his grasp.

He stalks past me with a menacing look, the guy dangling by the neck from one of his fists. I hope he squeezes too tight and crushes the man’s larynx. But that hope hasn’t calmed my nerves a bit because Storm is somewhere in there and I still don’t know if she’s alive.

“Storm!” I scream.

Finally the wall of bouncers breaks apart. Ben guides me through with a hand on my back to find Storm huddled awkwardly on the floor, her limbs folded into themselves. A pang of alarm stabs me. She looks so much like Jenny did in the car.

I dive to her side.

“Oh, Kacey!” she cries and throws herself on my shoulder. “All I could think of was Mia.”

I’m shaking. “You’re alive. You’re alive. Thank God you’re alive,” I mumble over and over as my hands grope her arms, her neck, her shoulders. No blood. No wounds.

“I’m okay, Kacey. I’m okay.” Her cheeks are red and tear-stained, her makeup smeared all over her face, but she’s smiling now.

“Yes,” I confirm, swallowing the painful ball in my throat. “You’re not going to die. You’re okay. I haven’t lost you.” I’m too close to Storm. Too close to getting hurt like I did when I lost Jenny. An avalanche of memories crushes any semblance of relief I should feel right now. Suddenly, I’m trapped in the past, with a best friend who I’d known since we were two, who shared days and nights filled with laughter and tears, anger and excitement. An acute ache blossoms in my chest as I realize they’re all the memories I hope to create with Storm too.

All the things that man just tried to steal from me.

With a hint of trepidation, Storm reaches forward and takes my hand in hers. I hadn’t breathed since I leapt over the bar. Now I let the air out of my lungs. And something snaps inside me. I don’t know how to describe it other than to say it’s like the little needle on my moral compass breaks in half.

As if a hate bomb detonates inside me.

He tried to steal my second chance from me. He needs to pay.

Fluorescent lights now shine down over the inside of Penny’s, casting an unpleasant glow over the spilled drinks, empty bottles and garbage as bouncers usher patrons out. I catch Nate’s broad shoulders as he rounds the corner toward the back exit, the guy still within his grip. My teeth crack against each other.