Page 21 of Shattered Veil

Chapter 5

“Nice place.”

Intent on accompanying me on the walk to Henry’s, Shawn paid me the compliment as I strolled through my apartment to quickly dispose of my work bag.

For the longest time, the apartment didn’t feel like my own. It still had Claire and Zoey’s furnishings—the wooden, rectangular kitchen table that greeted you the moment you opened the door. The grey couch to the left. The beat up, green chair adjacent to it. Either of their mattresses and the bedframes that accompanied them—those were still in their bedrooms.

Claire’s looked as if it were nearly untouched. Her bedding having been cleaned at the nearby laundromat long ago, I remade her bed as if it were anticipating her return home. I bought a handful of colorful throw pillows to add some life to her ivory comforter, the coral and blue tones reminiscent of a beach house, and her door remained closed. She wasn’t returning, of course, because she lived upstairs with Luke in apartment 3C, but I still ensured that her room remained tidy and inviting.

Zoey’s old room, however—my room—had changed drastically. The sight of the white eyelet lace on her bedding had been making me cringe, unwanted memories of our brief fling springing to my mind, and because I truly, truly no longer thought of Zoey in that way, I had decided to redecorate. I needed to redecorate. Months ago, when she had decided to continue living with Liam across the hall in 2B, she had offered to put her things in a storage unit. She and Claire had both done as such, but I insisted that their things remained because it would save them the trouble of storing them, and, of course, I no longer had furnishings of my own to speak of. Those had stayed with Allison…and I had no desire to go shopping for such things. So…yes—I redecorated.

With Zoey’s approval, I painted her light wash, wooden headboard and matching side tables black. I folded up her sheets, stored them in Claire’s old closet, and bought my own. The mix of sage and hunter green combined with grey pillows gave the room a much needed shift, and it became my own.

I briefly considered explaining to Shawn that it wasn’t truly my place. That Claire had lived here with Zoey, they both split off to room with Luke and Liam, and that I had simply taken over once Allison had claimed rights to our house. Going into detail could have brought up questions about the murky past, though…and after a few months, it really did feel like home.

Therefore, I simply nodded at his comment, throwing him a smile as I set my work bag on the kitchen table.

“Thanks—I like it.”

He asked, “You said it was a short walk from here?”

“Oh yeah. Super short,” I told him as we both made headway for the door.

I allowed him to exit first, locked the deadbolt behind me, and as I slid my keys into my pocket, Shawn appeared to be amping up for battle. His shoulders bobbled from side to side as we lumbered down the steps, and the moment that we reached the sidewalk, he spoke up:

“Alright…let me get this straight.”

Dusk upon us, the air was brisk, and the rock salt that was sprinkled along the cobblestones to aid in melting the sheet of ice from Monday’s storm crunched beneath our feet.

I sighed. “There’s not much to get straight, Brooks.”

“It’s a little unfathomable that no one—no one in your entire friend circle—knows that she’s a—”

I interrupted, “Remember when I told you to keep your mouth shut?”

“The street’s empty, Jay,” Shawn stated, gesturing with an arm thrown out wide in front of us both. “I’m not gonna spill your secrets. Don’t worry, I’ll be a good boy.”

He said it sarcastically, and I returned quickly, “Is that your fetish? Do I need to buy you a collar so you behave?”

Shawn snorted. “Hey, don’t joke—I’m a very open-minded man. For all you know, I have a whole fuckin’ closet filled with submissive shit.”

“Okay, okay.” I waved away his commentary. “Didn’t intend to open Pandora’s box. I’m not trying to picture you in leather.”

“You are now, though, right?” His thick eyebrows bobbed up and down.

“Whatever makes you feel better at the end of the day,” I quipped, swiftly redirecting to, “And no. No one knows. No one knows anything. They know I went to a strip club and nothing else…and they’re not going to. I don’t want Cassie any more pissed at me than she already is.”

“Mmkay. And—”

“Stop,” I interjected in a hushed tone. “There’s not much else to know; we’re here.”

Shawn peeked upward to view the wooden, pinkish lettering overhead that read Henry’s, and his head bobbed back in surprise.

“Huh—damn, that is close to your place.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I reached to open the door, and the bell dinged. “After you.”

It was busier tonight—the dull murmur of voices was just loud enough to rise above the soft music in the background. Though the usual seats that our group occupied whilst Claire and Luke were tending the bar were empty, I didn’t move to take them because we never sat at the counter when they were off the clock. It was the third furthest table from the entrance that we normally took. One edge of it butted up against the wall; we typically had two chairs on either side with a fifth at the table head—a sixth if Cassie joined us. Tonight, there were six—and Luke, Claire, Liam, and Zoey were all in their usual seats.

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