Page 20 of Grave Curse

Maybe it was the brainwashing, but I could almost hear Tyr’s voice saying exactly that.

I shuddered, suddenly ice-cold in the warmth of my little shop. No, I thought, hugging myself before I shook myself to pieces. No one could know of my kiss with Tyr.Ididn’t even want to know about it. My life would be much less complicated if that damn kiss had never happened in the first place.

“Hey, you know what we need?” Roxie came out of our tiny but awesome breakroom behind the counter, coat and purse inhand. “We need to blow off some steam. How about we hit Lush tonight?”

“Hell, yes.” The words were out before Roxie had even finished speaking. Blowing off steam at our favorite bar was just what the doctor ordered. “Give me five minutes to close up shop and I’ll be right with you.”

It took less than three, and another ten minutes for us to pile into Roxie’s Mini Cooper and get to what I considered to be our personal hangout, a gaudy little hole-in-the-wall bar outside of the North Loop area. The thousands of fairy lights strung all over the slanted ceiling made it look like either an insane elf or a gaggle of pre-teen girls had been let loose to do the decorations, and the gauzy red curtains at the windows, tufted booths and curved mahogany bar only added to the ambiance. Various close-up photos of people’s mouths drinking from glasses hung everywhere, all done in artsy black and white except for the Technicolor lips.

Behind the bar was a floor-to-ceiling rack holding every liquor known to man. The low buzz of a packed house still didn’t drown out the never-ending track of power ballads playing in the background, and I found myself humming along to “Unchained Melody” as I breathed in the scents of fried foods and savory seasonings. Lush had a decent menu of sliders and appetizers, a huge step above the usual bar food, but it was their fourteen-page menu of exclusive drinks that consistently ranked Lush as one of Chicago’s best hidden gems.

“I have a confession to make.” Sinking into a tall-backed booth, Roxie handed me a padded menu. “I thought you were going to hassle me about going out to Lush tonight.”

“It’s only Wednesday, and yet I feel like it’s been Friday for days. I need a weekend like a fish needs water, but since that can’t happen, the least I can do is go for that Friday feeling and get a little tipsy. Totally ride-sharing my way home tonight.”

“I’m sure Carlo wouldn’t mind giving you a ride home,” my friend said, eyes wide as she wiggled out of her coat. “He doesn’t mind our girl-time together, because that means I can’t say boo about all his boy-time with all his football-crazy friends that show up at our place every weekend.”

“It’s all good, I’ve got it taken care of. Tonight, I’m getting my drink on.” And if alcohol was capable of making me forget Tyr and all things kiss-related, I was fully prepared to drown myself in it.

“I’m glad to hear it, babe, because after Romeo rocked your boat this morning you’ve been walking around like you took over Atlas’s job of holding up the world, and the weight of it is crushing you. It’s not healthy getting that upset.”

No way could I explain how upset I really was.It’ll be our little secret… “Romeo should have known that just mentioning Hades Colgrave’s name is worse than fingernails on a blackboard to me. I know it’s not good to live in the past, and I try not to. But whenever someone mentions that bastard’s name, I can’t just roll with it like everything’s all sunshine and rainbows.”

“I get that he’s a first-rate monster who abused both you and your mother. Some of the stories you’ve told me make me shiver, and I can’t even begin to understand what it did to your little-kid brain to watch as he systematically turned your mother into a junkie. But I do know one thing, sweetheart. Shit from our past can make our present miserable if we don’t find a way to deal with it.” She frowned at her menu. “How do you feel about fried pickles?”

I see-sawed my hand. Nothing sounded good to me, with the possible exception of Tyr’s mouth… Oh, dear God, I was becoming a freaking basket case. “Let’s split a sampler platter so we get a little bit of everything. And I think I’ve dealt with the past just fine. Well, fine-ish. I mean, I’ll admit I haven’t gone totherapy to talk out my feelings, or whatever. But that’s not really necessary, is it?”

Roxie lifted a fine brow. “A lot of folks would say yes. Especially if they were the one who found their dead mother in bed with a needle still stuck in her arm.”

Mentally I slammed the door shut on that memory before it could get out. Not today, Satan. Not today. “The point I’m trying to make is that I’ve moved on, Rox. I like my life, because I’m the one who’s in charge of it now. I like my little shop, and I’ve got a great group of friends like you who have my back no matter what. I even love my converted loft in that drafty old warehouse, with all its big windows overlooking the city. And even though I share that old warehouse with a microbrewery, I like the faint scent of beer brewing away, all nice and warm and yeasty. I made myself move on and now, after ten years of being free of that living hell, I feel like I’ve got a great life.”

“You do.” Roxie’s nod seemed to agree with me, but her expression told another story. “So, in this great life of yours, how long has it been since you’ve gotten yourself some trouser snake?”

Ugh. “It’s been a minute.” Thankfully our server appeared to take our orders. Along with the sampler platter, I ordered a Never Mind, a S’mores-inspired chocolate martini so sweet it almost made you forget alcohol was involved, while Roxie went for a Lemon Lolly, a killer concoction with lemon cordial, whipped cream vodka and limoncello. “In fact, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Isn’t that how men roll? They get in a bad mood, so they find the nearest bitch to put a smile back on their face?” Tyr did that as he sat in his Clubhouse, the undisputed king of all he surveyed. Hell, he was probably doing it right now while I sat there wishing I was her.That bastard.“Why is it we girlies can’t just grab some dick if we’re in the mood, then kick them out the moment we’re done with them?”

“Mm, I used to do that every now and again before I met my Italian stallion.” For several months now Roxie had been burning up the sheets with Carlo Amante, a sous chef over in Lincoln Park who dreamed of one day running his own restaurant. I had no doubt he’d make it. That sneaky guy had gotten me to finish off an entire plate of eggplant parmesan, when he knew I hated eggplant. “Hitting it and quitting it works just fine if you’re wanting to get that smile. But that smile doesn’t last, babe, because it doesn’t fix the problem.”

“Problem?” Our drinks showed up, almost too gorgeous to drink. I dived in anyway, like the brave pretend-goddess I was, but not before I ordered another round. “What problem are you talking about?”

“The problem ofyou, the finest Jessica Rabbit-lookalike in the world, living like a damn nun whose knees have never been separated.”

I rolled my eyes and sipped some more. Mm, yummy. “That’s a problem?”

“It isn’t just a problem. It’s a sin against nature, and it needs to be corrected as soon as humanly possible.”

In that moment I was infinitely grateful I’d ordered another drink. “Trust me, nuns only wish they could live the way I do. Remember when I tried out that new catsuit on the pole last week? Let’s see a nun do that.”

“Yeah, and you did it in front of me and Misty. Not exactly a sausage fest. It was hot, I’ll give you that—”

“Thank you, though neither one of you cheapskates tipped me for my efforts.”

“My point is that it wasn’t for any special man in your life, because you don’t have a special man in your life. I’ve known you for, what? Seven years? In all that time I’ve had four boyfriends before hitting the jackpot with Carlo. Do you know how many serious boyfriends you’ve had since I’ve known you?”

“One.” Sort of.

“One,” Roxie repeated triumphantly, as if she were a trial attorney who just proved a monumental point in her case. “Worse yet, it only lasted for the summer, and then he went back to wherever the hell he came from.”

“California.” I had been twenty-two at the time, four years out from my mother’s death and escaping Hades’s grasp. Hooking up with Jake Anderton had been very much like my awakening. I’d finally emerged from the trauma I’d endured while in the grips of Hades’s insane Chicago Gravedigger world, and all of a sudden there I was, staring like a smitten kitten at a delivery guy.

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