Page 13 of Love After Never

The skin on my neck where he held me helpless brings my awareness back to him. The spot almost burns.

The bartender, a kind man with a rapidly receding hairline, sets three shot glasses full of yellowish liquid in front of me and I down the first. Then the second, and the third. I slam a couple of twenties down on the counter beside the empty glasses and walk out of the bar. It took too much time to get to the exit and when I push out through the doors, I can finally breathe.

“Tough night, huh?”

The Sub keeps to the shadows, his preference evident by the collar aroundhisthroat. Not as thick as the one Taney is wearing but enough to let me know his place and what he expects from this night. He grounds the butt of his cigarette beneath his feet and stares at me.

I crook a finger toward him. “Come play with me.” It’s a bad idea, and more than likely I shouldn’t have gone past the alley with the strange Sub.

It takes so little effort to hail a cab and have the driver take us back to my place. The Sub stares at me with overly bright eyes but nods his head and agrees to the arrangement. It’s not fair, for either of us, but it’s the nature of the game.

And the force of Gabriel Blackwell’s eyes sticks with me for the rest of the night.

The worst part is that a large piece of me, the one I’ve shoved down deep, wants nothing more than to go back to the club, get to my knees in front of him, and prove him right. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than bringing the Sub back to my apartment and continuing to chase the high I never seem to find.

FIVE

layla

The crawlingsensation covers my skin in a way I haven’t felt for months,years. It’s the kind of itch that led me to realize my dominant tendencies in the first place. The kind of itch that only subsides when I close a case, and even then I’m half a step into relief before the itch returns.

Even getting off with a Sub only alleviates the feeling for a moment, never cures it.

From my place nestled in the shadows across the street from the Velvet Underground, I fix my gaze on the front doors.

The innocuous club doors with their beat-up iron hinges and wood painted matte black hide a world of sin inside. Four bouncers line the main hallway inside and make sure only the right type of fucked-up people make it onto the club floor.

I’ve been in the same nest for the last four nights, staking out the club on my own time. Devan is only a speed dial away in case we get a call on any of our active cases, but I’ve let Jerry grab the last two that have come our way.

So many of them are in a state of limbo with no forward motion on the horizon.

And Jerry, being the type of person he is, sees my giving up the new casework without a fight as a sign he’s won.

Like he's somehow become the big dog on campus again and is striding ahead of the rest of the rat pack. The king of rats. It must be lovely to live on Delusion Island. For the rest of us in the real world, there are bigger things to do than stroke our pathetically small egos.

It leaves me free to carve out some time to follow Gabriel, to see who he is and where he goes, the people he interacts with. The best place to start is the club.

Every piece of me is on high alert as a couple pushes out of the front doors, him with the leash in hand and her at the end of it. The swift click of her heels makes way too much noise on the sidewalk and the man lets out a gruff laugh promising more fun to come.

My phone dings two times in quick succession and I glance down at the message from Devan.

Are you still out?I’m worried about you. You’re not answering me.

He’s incessant when he wants something. I should never have let it slip about my off the books stakeout. But I know Gabriel Blackwell is worth looking into.

He’s got dirty feelers all over the city, I’m willing to bet, and the only way I’m going to get a chance to look into him legally is to see if he gives me something to go on. Some shred of evidence where I can bring him in and question him the right way.

Where there are other people around to keep me in line.

I shift, pain shooting up my knee and into my hip from staying in one position for too long. I don’t need Devan’s protection. Or his concern. I know how to handle myself and I’ve been doing it pretty much on my own since I left home. Twenty-five years of life made me into a traumatized but competent adult who takes her responsibilities seriously.

Where the hell is Gabriel?

I glance up sharply at the sky when the first soft patter of rain dots my face. Well, shit. I’ve got barely any cover here.

Using one hand to cover the phone, I type out a quick message assuring Devan that I’m fine before turning off notifications. I just want to find out who the hell Gabriel Blackwell really is and get back to my life, hopefully with a better understanding of the murder that changed my life all those years ago.

He’s got the answers. I know it.

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