Page 60 of Grave Curse

“I’ll pay for it,” I promised immediately.

“Damn straight you will,” she shot back, then charmed the hell out of me by bursting into gales of tired—but thoroughly satisfied—laughter.

Chapter Sixteen

I Told Them Everything

Ginger

“The evites have all gone out.” With a grim sort of resolution, I closed up my laptop sitting on Vixen’s Den back counter, and went to pull up the shades to welcome in the new morning light. The dazzling deep blue of the lightening sky told me it was going to be another beautiful fall day in the Windy City. “This birthday-slash-costume party is freaking happening this Saturday, on my birthday, whether I’m ready for it or not. And oh my God, I amsonot ready. Not only do I not have any sort of costume ready, I’m not even sure where the party is going to take place.”

At the cracked and now-emptied out glass counter, Roxie glanced up from her Pinterest search of Halloween party ideas. “Didn’t the location have to go on the evites?”

“I put Vixen’s Den’s address as the location, but I don’t know if I’m feeling that. At the moment it’s not looking very party-ready in here.”

We both looked around the mostly empty front room, now awash in the pale morning sunlight. Vixen’s Den was closed until further notice. I told myself that was a good thing, because most of our inventory was now in the trash, along with two broken racks, a broken mirror, several dildos that had fallen out of their packaging, and one hopelessly broken chair. If I didn’t know Tyr was footing the bill to put things right, I would be a hysterical mess.

Tyr.

I stifled a soft sigh as I looked to the spot on the fleur-de-lis patterned pink and cream rug where we’d landed after thechair had broken. Was it weird that I wanted to have that spot enshrined? Or bronzed, at the very least. Every time I thought about how he’d felt inside me, my girlie parts tingled in the most distracting way, so I tried instead to concentrate on what was left of my inventory.

After Tyr and I pulled ourselves off the floor, we’d spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening cleaning out the front room and trying to put things right. Of course, that was easier said than done, and thanks to blood spray—which happened in a fist fight as violent as Tyr’s and Red Flag’s—little droplets got flung pretty much everywhere. I tossed out most of the clothes the two men had rolled around on, though Tyr insisted I keep a couple items for myself—two bustiers in purple and black with matching thongs, and a crimson see-through babydoll with matching crotchless panties.

After we’d closed up shop and headed to my place, I wore the babydoll set while gently icing his eye and cheek, then fixed him a simple dinner of soup and sandwiches. The babydoll was now in shreds in the trash, and I had orders to replace it in every color of the rainbow.

I could do that.

“Now that I think about it, having the party here at the Den is the best possible idea in the world,” I decided, trying to see the silver lining when I looked at the basically empty room. It was imperative I kept life upbeat for Roxie, who still seemed shell-shocked after yesterday’s events. I’d been worried about that. Yesterday had been no big deal for me, because I was used to brawlers like Tyr and Red Flag. Whether right or wrong, violence was their first language. It was how they got things done. But Roxie came from the civilian world, not the biker world. She’d looked traumatized, so I’d come in super-early to make coffee, set out her favorite French vanilla creamer along with a box of croissants—her preferred breakfast—and turned on her favoritemorning talk show on the TV mounted on the wall by the fitting rooms. If I could be upbeat and surround her with as much “normal” as possible, maybe she’d be okay. “We can do whatever we want with this space, right? Just think how much fun we’re going to have in here, Rox. We can set it up so perfectly it’ll look like it belongs on the cover of a magazine.”

“You have to admit, there’s definitely more room for a party now that almost all the inventory, racks and furniture are currently in the dumpster out back.”

I winced. So much for upbeat and normal. “Roxie—”

“I’m just so sorry, Ginger,” she burst out, looking near tears.

Um… what?“Sorry for what?”

She flung her arms out wide. “It was all my fault Red Flag was here in the first place! I was the one who introduced you to Red. I did that because I thought he was hot, and you’re my best friend, and I want you to be happy like Carlo and me.”

Aw. “That’s so sweet of you.”

“I had visions of us going out on double dates, and the guys becoming besties like us, and maybe even doing one of those couple getaways like they do in all those Hallmark Christmas movies, where they get snowed in and everything is all about hot cocoa and mistletoe kisses.”

Oh my God, I adored Roxie so much. “That sounds great, babe.”

“Right? But the one thing I never envisioned was everything turning to shit in one insanely violent moment, which led to the ultimate destruction of the shop. You must hate the sight of me.”

“Oh my gosh, no.” With a sound of sympathy, I hustled around the cracked-glass counter to where she stood and gave her the biggest hug, squeezing her all the tighter when I felt her shaking. Yep. Definitely traumatized. “Listen to me, Roxie, it’s not that bad. Okay? Not everything fell to shit, and the shop wasn’t destroyed.” The TV blared tinny laughter at that point,and I gave it a dirty look before pulling away to smile at my best friend. “Let’s try to look at this positively, yeah? Vixen’s Den has been getting stale for a while now, so this empty room… it’s not really an empty room. It’s an awesome opportunity to totally change things up. We’re talking a new paint job here, with maybe some kind of mural that knocks the proverbial socks off the average customer who walks in. And, maybe we could get some Grecian columns outlining a larger dance floor area. Maybe we can have some touchscreen catalogues embedded in the walls, with some sexy Lolita AI trying on every outfit we have in stock to set the mood. I mean, the only limit here is our imagination, since Tyr volunteered to foot the bill for renovations.” Heaven knew he could afford it. Whether legit or not-so-legit, the man knew how to make a buck.

“See, now that’s the only thing I can blame you for—Tyr.” Roxie’s fine brows pulled together as she glared at me accusingly. “I thought we were friends, Ginger.”

I blinked, shocked. “We are.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that Tyr—your sworn enemy—is also our landlord? I know how carefully he guards you because of how fucked up your shared past is, and I get that. I mean, I guess I get that,” she added dubiously. “But this really complicates things.”

Tell me about it. “In what way?”

“He’s overly protective of you. I’ve always known that, but now I find out he’s ourlandlord. I’m not sure I would have welcomed Red Flag back in here if I’d known Tyrownedthe damn place.”

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