Page 63 of Clubs

A breathy laugh. “Believe me, neither do I.”

“I don’t want you to end up where you were last night again,” I said, voice softer now. “Declan said he thought that it was more than just a beating. Is that true?”

Now, she avoided my gaze. When she broke the silence, I didn’t know how to describe the sound she let out. A laugh? Huff? “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, Brooke.”

“I am gonna worry about it.” Finding her hand, I laced her fingers through mine. “It’s my job to worry about you. I always will—”

“It’s not your job.” A pure, genuine smile. “You’re supposed to be my sister. You’re not supposed to be my mom. I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me. I appreciate that you stepped into that role when no one else was there to. But no, you don’t have to worry about me. You don’t have to take care of me either. And when I get out, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. Let me fall, if that’s what I do, but I have to get it together on my own.”

So there it was. She wasn’t gonna talk about what happened last night. Probably never would. Which was fair enough. She wasn’t obligated to share her story.

And she was right. Caring for her wasn’t my job. I didn’t have to do that, and it was probably best if I stopped. All I was going to do was make things worse if I kept enabling her, and maybe I had needed to hear her say that to understand it. To get it through my head, I needed her to tell me to stop.

“Fine. I’ll let you fall on your face.” I smiled, and she laughed. “Because no matter how much I love you, I really can’t do it anymore, Ria. You have to get it together.”

Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “I’m gonna.”

“You better.”

Another laugh. “You always were the tough love type.”

“And don’t you forget it.” I joined in on the laughter. When it faded, Ria rested her head on my shoulder. I kissed her forehead, tucking an arm around her ribs. “Did you ask if I’m allowed to come visit you?”

Hugging me back, she gave a nod. “Not until after I’m out of detox. And then I only get two hours of in-person visitation a week for the first month. In the second month, I get two hours twice a week. And then, by the third month, I can leave. Not for the whole day, but for a couple of hours. As long as I stay in the program.”

I squeezed her tight. “You better stay in the program.”

I expected the playful nature of this conversation to continue, but she cuddled up closer to me and said, “I have to. I don’t want you to lose me too.”

Suddenly, I had to hold my breath to keep from crying.

She couldn’t get clean for me. It had to be for herself, or it wouldn’t stick. But, judging by the tears in her eyes now, I knew it wasn’t just about me. It was about last night. Last night was her I-can’t-keep-living-like-this moment.

I hated that she had to live through something like that. I hated that it happened to her. But I was glad that something had changed. That somehow, now, she had a reason to get clean. I would pray every day that it would stick. Who I was praying to was irrelevant. I wasn’t sure I believed in anything outside of what I already knew to exist. But I prayed like hell, because maybe, just maybe, some god out there was listening. Maybe one of them would step up and help her get it together.

A knock at the door called my attention away. With another kiss on Ria’s forehead, I stood. When I made it there, I wasn’t surprised to see Detective Tyler on the other side. I glanced back at Declan, just stepping out of the hallway behind the bar. “I don’t see a warrant. Want me to answer it?”

“He’s not gonna go away if you don’t,” he said.

And so, with a sigh, I pulled it open. Like I did yesterday, I put on that big, innocent, bimbo smile—as Declan would have described it. “Hey, there, Detective. I was gonna bring my car down to the station this afternoon if that’s still okay. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Tracing his tongue along his lips, he gave a crooked smile. “Not gonna pull another disappearing act, are you?”

I cocked my head to the side. “I’m sorry?”

“I got an informant in here yesterday.” He looked around the bar. Then he pointed to a chair in the center of the room. “He was sitting right there while he was wearing the camera. Not the greatest quality, but you were fighting. You two, I mean.” He wagged a finger between Declan and me. “You can be a real dick, by the way. And you, you’re a big fat phony, aren’t you? It all makes sense now. It’s all making sense. The drugs that the dogs would smell, then disappear as soon as we got close. The bodies that would vanish. The people we knew were dead, but could never find. All of these things that never made sense, now all tie together.” He looked between us all. Declan, me, Ria, Emory. He looked between us, and he cackled. “You’re not human. None of you are human.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

DECLAN

Before I could say another word, Emory was gone. Or rather, not gone.

He was behind Tyler with an arm around his throat. Then he was gone again.

Suddenly, he was in the center of the room, dragging a chair closer to the bar. All while still holding Tyler.

Shoving him down into the chair, he glanced my way. “Get some duct tape.”

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