Page 42 of In His Veins

“Goddammit! I’m telling you it’s not like-” Chase cuts me off, practically shouting now.

“Not like what? Go ahead, try to spin this in your favor. Let’s hear it.”

“I-” I start, but he cuts me off again.

“I hate you. I can barely stand to look at your ugly ass face.” His face is twisted into a sneer, and I realize I’m about to lose my best friend.

“I love her,” the words leave my mouth unbidden. Chase and I stare at each other, shocked into silence.

“Shit,” he says as he leans against the wall of the building next to us. “You barely know her.”

“I know her pretty well,” I correct and lean against the wall so that we’re side by side. “I’m sorry,” I continue. “I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. I tried to ignore how I felt because I knew you and the twins would kill me.” I chuckle even though none of this is funny.

“You really love her?” Chase asks, making me feel a spark of hope.

“I do,” I respond soberly.

“Then listen carefully. I want you to stay the fuck away from her. If you hurt her or bring any harm onto her, I will still kill you. I’m still unthinkably pissed and hate the look of your face right now, but we’re running late.” I nod my head in agreement and push off the wall.

“I can’t leave her, Chase. That’s just not in the cards. Be pissed, fine. But you’re going to have to learn to deal with this.” He sighs and starts walking again.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to deal with it right now. Good luck telling the twins.” A ghost of a smile flashes on his face, and it’s enough for me to know that we’re going to be okay.

I don’t know what I’d do without Chase’s friendship. We’ve saved each other’s lives so many times, done unthinkable things to protect each other.

I don’t know if I believe in fate, but I know that I was meant to meet Chase. If not for his unshakable friendship, I wouldn’t know Ava. The thought makes me feel weak, but I follow behind Chase as he continues walking downtown.

Chase stops outside of a dark building and knocks. I look up, brows furrowed. The Restriction closed hours ago, yet a few seconds later, we hear the lock disengage. The door swings open and Paige stands in the doorway in a t-shirt and sweatpants. When she sees Chase, she throws herself into his arms. He wraps an arm around her waist, the other cradling her head while she cries. I can’t see his face, but he looks like he could melt into the woman in front of him.

Paige suddenly pulls away, realizing another person is standing outside the door. She looks at me warily, her face bare of any makeup. I’ve never seen her this way. She looks vulnerable and young as she glances between Chase and me.

“Who’s this?” Chase cuts a glance to me and from the way his mouth twists, he considers saying something unsavory.

“My best friend,” he says instead. “We were in the Marines and Special Ops together. He shares the business with us.”

“Callum,” I say, holding out my hand.

“Paige.” Her grip is firm and ink trails from her arms to the tops of her hands. I can’t imagine how long she must have sat for those sessions, but they’re the work of a genius. Snakes, florals, and skulls interlock seamlessly. From what I know of the woman in front of me, they fit her well.

“Nice tattoos,” I say, after I’ve dropped my hand. She glances down at her arm as if she forgot she had them.

“Thanks. I had them done at a shop downtown, but Chase’s sister designed them for me a few years ago.” I feel Chase’s sharp eyes on me as I respond.

“She did a great job.” Paige’s smile is still a little hesitant, but less guarded now. She holds her arm out and gestures for us to come inside.

The club is mostly deserted, with a few other employees lingering near the stage. Paige crosses in front of us and leads us to the bar. We sit down and she goes around back to face us.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning, Paige, so Cal can hear it?” His voice is gentle, and I cast a sidelong look in his direction. He’s wholly focused on Paige as she twists the hem of her t-shirt in her hands. She nods and grabs a stool from behind the counter.

“I guess it all started a few nights ago,” she begins, now perched on her stool. Her eyes are unfocused as her hands continue the nervous movement. “If Chase hasn’t already told you, I’m a sex worker here. Specifically, I’m a performer, which means I get paid to have sex on stage.” Chase’s entire body tenses, but he doesn’t look away from her. Paige doesn’t seem to notice his response.

“I can’t see the entire crowd from the stage, but I can make out details in the first few rows. There was a man that immediately stuck out to me. I’d never seen him before, but he struck me as odd. It’s not unusual for someone to scan the crowd, but he almost seemed to be looking for someone in particular. One of the biggest appeals of The Restriction is anonymity, so it just seemed odd. He did that every night.

I try not to look at the audience when I’m working, but I couldn’t help but watch him. He didn’t even try to conceal his identity and he had the most unusual scar. It went all the way from his temple to the corner of his mouth.”

My entire body runs cold, but I don’t interrupt.

“I wasn’t really concerned about him though. The club employs great security for the performers, and I had dealt with far worse behavior from audience members. I’d occasionally look over and find him watching me, but that’s kind of what my job is for. People usually watch for pleasure, but he almost seemed to be studying me.”

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