#sweetbitter ozzy

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Outfit Inspo for this chapter

Chapter 7: Topsy-Turvy

TW: mentions of nudity if you squint really really hard, language, Simone sucks (y'all already know the drill), some cancer mentions & a pinch of dark humor, vague mentions of drinking and smoking, a bit of jealousy 👀, a little brotherly threatening, some close quarters flirting, laser tag, panic attacks. This chapter is the longest so far of this series, so enjoy y'all!

Jake felt light, almost weightless, as he lay in the warm bed basking in the rays of sunlight. The air around him was laced with the sweet smell of perfume, cherry with hints of rose, and light woodsy leather. It was intoxicating, and the more he breathed it in, the more he found himself craving the smell. A weight was comfortably settled onto his chest as his fingers ran through silky strands of hair. His blunt nails scratched her head, drawing out soft noises of contentment. He chuckled, an odd sense of joy rushing through his veins.

“What’s funny?” She asked, lifting her head off his chest.

Opening his eyes, he smiled up at the sunlit halo of red hair and sparkling green eyes that stared down at him. “Nothing at all.”

Her eyebrows lifted as amusement made her face even more beautiful. “Nothing at all? Why do I not believe you?”

“Calling me a liar?” He teased, his hands running along her smooth skin, tracing the curved shape of her snake tattoo up her spine. “In my own bed, that’s rather inconsiderate.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier,” she teased back, leaning into him, her fingers tracing his lips. Jake watched her face slowly soften, looking at him like he was everything to her. “You never thought you’d get this attached, did you?”

Cold weight started creeping back into his body as his mind recognized the dream. He still clung to her, clung to her soft skin beneath his fingers, the loving gaze she gave him, the smell of her perfume. Jake still closed his eyes when she leaned in to kiss him, and he hesitated to pull away even though he couldn’t feel her lips against his.

When he opened his eyes again, she was gone, and he was alone. He set his hand against his chest, taking deep breaths to escape the sudden slight feeling of breathlessness. Then, rolling onto his side, he looked at the empty space beside him, quietly recalling the sight of her bare back and that damn tattoo that he now knew painted her skin. Jake forced himself up and followed his shitty routine to prepare for another long night of service. It was starting to get ridiculous the never-changing nature of bartending at 22West.

He found himself thinking about what would have happened if he had gone through with his plans with Scott. Would he have his own restaurant? A bar that wasn’t constantly surrounded by rich assholes with more money than god and still stingy with their tips? Would he get to wear what he wanted and throw people out when they’d had enough? No. He reminded himself. It was a dumb idea, rushed and poorly thought out. It would have failed before it even started. Simone was right; all that was just a pipedream meant to help keep him from going insane with the mundane normalcy of life.

It was a fine day, not too hot but not cold either, as he rode his bike through the crowded sidewalks of people and even more crowded streets of cars and noise. Simone stood in the kitchen with a sweet smile as she fixed the collar of some girl. For a second, he thought she was Tess; they looked similar enough with the same bangs, brown hair, and big nervous eyes. He moved past them, an unsettling feeling of repressed emotion churning his stomach. “You’re late, my love,” Simone called to him.

“Not later than usual,” he replied, looking over his shoulder.

“I saved a plate for you.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, starting up the stairs.

“Comb your hair!” She hollered.

“Fuck off, Simone!” He yelled back with a tiny smirk.

Her nagging was annoying, but it made him feel like the two of them were slowly beginning to find their normal again. She cared, even after all the bit of a bender he’d put her through in the months after Tess left. Simone always cared and always took care of him. After Etienne’s visit and Jake’s near business endeavor and Tess, Simone had kept him at arm’s length. She’d said she needed space and didn’t know if she could count on him. Now he just hoped her sober appearance and mother-hen nature meant they were both on the right track.

As he sat down at the table across from Sasha and the others, he was reminded that today was one of Lena’s days off. That was good. It’d give him time to get the image of her looking down at him, kissing him, out of his head. Sitting at another table, quietly polishing the salt shakers with a nervous glint in her eyes, the girl Simone was with took in her surroundings. She was cute, innocent, and scared shitless in the new environment.

The rowdy friends talked about her quietly before giving her the usual welcome of a pile of dishes and the order of washing them. She jumped up and did it without hesitation, looking like some lost animal for a second before she jogged to the back. It reminded him of Lena’s first day. She hadn’t even flinched when they dropped their dishes in front of her, finishing her before speaking Russian to Sasha and confidently carrying their dishes to the back. But, of course, not everyone could be like Lena, he reminded himself, eating his food with a smirk. 

Most newbies were like Tess at the start. Timid, innocent, and easy. It was why he’d always had his way with the newcomers. It was easy and uncommitted. And as the night continued, the more obvious the new girls’ doe-eyed stares became. She was enthralled with him, and he hadn’t even spoken to her. God, was it always this easy? He thought after catching her staring for the third time.

Simone stopped by the bar, quietly instructing the girl to get a bottle of wine from the cellar. “So you’ve got a trail?”

She laughed. “Yes, it appears Will is now too important for such things.”

“She seems clumsy,” he replied with a smile. “You’ll have fun with that.”

“Olive is new to this. So, of course, she will be a bit clumsy.”

Jake laughed. “Her name is Olive?”

“It’s a beautiful name,” Simone scolded. “She’s sweet.”

“I’m sure she is,” he replied.

“It seems she already has a bit of a crush on you.”

Jake made a face. “That so?”

Simone merely smiled. “You’re handsome and mysterious. Of course, a girl like her will be drawn to you.”

Something in her tone made that unsettled feeling creep back up. “She looks like Tess.”

“Does she?” Simone asked with a hum. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Jake watched her for a minute, quietly recognizing the lie and thinking about what to do. Simone wouldn’t lie to him. She had no reason to, yet there was no way she didn’t see the similarities between Olive and Tess. Her eyes filled with a gleam of something as she held his gaze… An unspoken expectation, one that Jake wasn’t quite sure he understood. 

“We need more ice,” Nicky said over Jake’s shoulder.

“I’ll get it,” he answered, turning away from Simone to grab the bucket.

Olive hurried back to Simone’s side, glancing at him with a pink blush, tucking her hair behind her ear as he moved past her. Behind the safety of the walls, Jake tried to keep his breath even. Simone was lying for whatever reason. This new Tess, his dream, all of it was becoming too much. The harder it became to breathe, the more he was sucked into the dark pit holding specific memories of all the times he’d spent holding his breath under the water in the bath. He remembered the crushing weight that stole his breath when Simone had told him his mother’s death was no accident. He had to steady himself on the wall as he remembered seeing Lena disappear beneath the water.

Pull yourself together, he cursed. He harshly forced breath into his lungs and shoveled the ice into his bucket until the numbness took over, and everything was pushed down where it belonged. He walked back through the kitchen doors and faltered at the sight before him. Lena always stood out with her vibrant hair, but this was something else. 

The black dress was simple and elegant, unlike what he would have pictured her wearing on a night out. Her hair looked soft, cascading in waves down her freckled shoulders, and if possible, her eyes were even brighter tonight. Maybe it was the lights or how she smiled, but he was enchanted. He refocused quickly, forcing the question to come out as calm and disinterested as he could muster, “The hell are you doin’ here?”

“Our little Red is a guest tonight,” Nicky replied, giving him a light nudge as he passed by.

“A guest?” He repeated, busying himself with refilling the ice to keep his eyes off her.

Lena scoffed at his disbelief. “I could be a guest.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” Nicky’s innocent question made Jake freeze for a fraction of a second. Was she here with someone? He wondered swiftly before bitterly forcing the angry thoughts to cover it. Why do I fucking care? He wasn’t going to get into this, not tonight, not here.

“No one,” she said simply. “I’m here for a family dinner.”

He chuckled, imagining her loud and leather-clad family sitting at one of the tables eating fancy food like rich people. “Family dinner? I’m dyin’ to see what your family comes in lookin like.”

“Me too. I told them it was upscale, but Ozzy’s version of that makes him look like an old victorian count, and Patrick...” She made a face and sighed, “Patrick is going to show up in something fucking hideous. So, I guess I should apologize in advance for you guys having to look at them all night.”

“Well, I don’t know about Nicky, but their outfits won’t bother me,” he insisted, failing to keep his attention from drifting to her exposed skin and soft curves.

“Oh?”

“I’ll be too busy looking at yours.” He winked, watching in absolute delight as she turned her head away from him, blushing almost as red as her hair. Seeing her smile because of his flirtatious banter made him remember the dream in even more detail. In an instant, that smell… That damn sweet cherry made his brain feel foggy… foggy with her and her alone.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

*

Patrick spread his arms wide, revealing more of the hideous orange-colored suit, covered head to toe in bright bedazzled jewels. His copper hair was practically glowing from the amount of gel he’d used to slick it back. “It’s pretty good, right?”

“Oh my god, you look like a cartoon character,” I whined. “I told you this place was fancy!”

“This,” he gestured to his suit again. “Is fancy!”

Turning back to Jake and Nicky, who stood frozen, wide-eyed at the horror of my brother’s suit, I sighed, “It can’t get worse than this, can it?”

Nicky’s eyebrows shot up as the door opened and closed again. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh god,” I turned and instantly covered my mouth at seeing Ozzy’s outfit. “Ozzy!”

He was dressed in a fine black overcoat that hugged his shoulders tightly and flared into a rounded tail. His neck was adorned with a simple red necktie, and an old watch hung from his buttoned chest. His leather gloves squeaked as he brought the ornate cane forward, clacking it against the floor. He tipped the tall hat to me and smiled, “It’s brilliant, isn’t it?”

“I said no hats!”

Peter rolled himself in through the door, stopping the wheelchair off to the side and giving me a knowing look. “I told them it was too much.”

He wore a very loosely fitting suit and a simple black face mask to protect him from airborne threats. I smiled, gesturing to his outfit. “At least you tried to blend in.”

“Don’t thank me yet, sis. This thing is one wrong move away from sliding right off me.”

Ozzy ran a hand through his hair as he looked around. “So this is the place, huh? I thought it would be a bit more… colorful.”

“People are staring,” I pointed out, looking at the large dining room full of people.

Patrick scoffed and turned to the restaurant with a smile. “Eat yer hearts out, you rich a-”

I slapped my hand over his mouth and dragged him back to my side. “Shut up! You can’t just waltz into my workplace and call these assholes assholes.”

“Oh, lighten up, girly,” Patrick teased.

“I could get fired!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Howard wouldn’t fire you.” 

“Relax and try to have some fun, tight ass,” Patrick added.

Jake and Nicky stifled their laughter from behind the bar. “Your ass is the one that’s gonna feel tight with my foot shoved up it.”

Peter looked behind the bar and nodded to the two men there. “Nice to finally meet some of Lee’s coworkers.”

“You must be her brother,” Nicky smiled. “I’m Nicky. This asshole is Jake.”

“Jake,” he repeated, looking him up and down. Then, finally, he looked at me with gleaming eyes. “He certainly is your type.” He said in Irish.

“Good lord, not you too.”

Patrick threw an arm over my shoulder. “Lighten up! Tonight is going to be fun!”

Howard walked briskly toward us, trying to mask how his brows rose at the sight of my group. “You must be the Harrow party.”

Ozzy grinned. “That’s right. Nice place you’ve got here.”

Howard nodded, looking past Patrick to Peter. “It’s a pleasure to have our paths cross again, Peter. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

“Always a pleasure, Howard,” my brother said in a tense tone.

“Be nice,” I quickly signed to him.

“I’m always nice,” he signed back. Then, with a grunt, he pulled himself out of the wheelchair. Patrick’s hand on my arm was the only thing keeping me from rushing forward to help him. Peter struggled a bit but steadily himself, rising to meet Howard’s height. “Where are we dining tonight?”

With a tight smile, he gestured to the closest table. “Right this way.” Patrick discreetly helped Peter down the stairs as they headed toward the neatly made table. “Everything has been freshly placed, so it’s perfectly sterilized.”

“Thank you, Howard.” I shook my head. “I apologize for the disruption to your evening.”

He waved me off. “Nonsense. You’re Glovers, maybe not in name but in blood. Besides, this place is as much yours as it is mine at this point. So please, enjoy your night Lena.”

The table was right in front of the bar, front and center of the whole dining room. Howard pulled out my seat for me as Sasha stepped beside him, winking at me before showcasing his skills in service by presenting the wine he’d selected and filling each of our glasses while he talked about it. He poured Peter’s water and stroked his cheek with a smile. “Good to see you, little sick boy.”

“Good to see you too, exotic cheater,” Peter replied, taking a sip of his water.

“Do you know what you’d like to order this evening?” Sasha asked after giving us a minute to mull over the menu.

I gave him my selection, knowing full well the quality of the meat and Scott’s perfect technique. Ozzy ordered what sounded the fanciest, which turned out to be one of the more straightforward dishes on the menu, and then there was Patrick, who hummed some jaunty Irish tune as he mulled over his options. “It all sounds so… pretentious.”

Sasha nodded. “I recommend the Dukkah-crusted salmon with quinoa and arugula salad. It’s one of our less pretentious dishes.”

Patrick chuckled and tipped his glass to Sasha. “Sounds perfect.”

Peter ordered a relatively simple dish, one I knew would likely make him feel sicker after the fact. I waited until Sasha returned to the kitchen to quietly excuse myself and follow him. The doors swung open, and Sasha smirked at me. “I knew you’d be following, sneaky bitch.”

“I’ve gotta make sure he can handle the meal,” I answered him before turning to address Scott.

“Oooh,” Isaac cooed as he turned. “Somebody looks hot tonight!”

The cooks all joined in, of course. Finally, Scott rolled his eyes and shouted, “Everybody shut the fuck up! She knows she looks good. Spill it Red; what do you need?”

“Sorry to slow down service Chef,” I started. “I just wanted to hand deliver my brother’s order. He’s… He’s got some dietary stuff.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he replied, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. “Give me the list of what he can’t have, and we’ll accommodate, won’t we?”

“Yes, Chef!”

I smiled, accepting the rare sight of Scott’s good side. “Okay, so all meat needs to be cooked through, nothing unpasteurized, no raw sprouts, and he’ll need toned-down spice. Ummm, also, any alcohol needs to be reduced and cooked down fully.”

Scott nodded, double-checking the paper before nodding. “Did everyone get that?”

“Heard, Chef!” The kitchen answered.

He nodded to the kitchen door and smiled, quick and thin. “Don’t sweat it, Red. We’re professionals back here.”

“Thanks, Scott, you’re the best!” I replied quietly, slipping out the kitchen door and making my way back to the table where Patrick was laughing as loud as possible, and Ozzy was struggling to grab hold of the small appetizer on his plate. Again, I giggled, sitting next to Peter. “Having trouble, Oz?”

“Why do they make these things so damn small?” He asked, holding his hands up. “Do these look like dainty baby fingers to you?”

“No,” we all answered.

“No!” He reaffirmed with a shake of his head as he grabbed his fork and stabbed into the small food item. “Fuck manners.”

Peter smiled at me. “Did you get the menu off your chest?”

With a nod, I sighed. “Sorry, I know I’m being extra about it all, but-”

“But you just want to make sure I get to enjoy this,” he finished. “I know, Lee, and I appreciate it. I appreciate all of you making tonight happen.”

“It’s the least we could give you,” Ozzy assured him. “Besides, I know how badly you’ve wanted to meet our girl’s work friends.”

Patrick lifted his wine to his lips. “Jake,” he muttered before tipping the glass back and sloppily sucking up the rich liquid.

I kicked his shin. “Shut up. And stop chugging the wine, you animal.”

While we waited for our food, Peter watched the dining room, the servers specifically. Though his eyes always seemed to follow one in particular. Simone smiled at us as she passed by, dropping off her plates of food and making polite small talk with her table, doing everything to earn those tips. Peter leaned over after she’d disappeared through the kitchen doors. “She’s the one that reminds you of mom?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “How’d you know?”

“She reminds me of her too.” Peter laughed. “It’s weird seeing another person like her just out and about.”

“We’ll keep our distance,” I assured him.

The food was terrific, though I’d expected no less from Scott. Peter cleared his plate, a sight I was glad to see after months of half-eaten food and hearing him vomit from the other room. He was really here, a bit pale and skinny but eating… But getting better. For a minute, all I could do was stare at him, thanking whatever gods or beings I could that my brother was still here.

Ozzy and Patrick blew through the wine, happily grumbling about how delicious the food was and how stuffed they were. Patrick unbuttoned his pants, “Feels like I just spent an hour with Nana.”

“Stop that!” I hissed, trying not to laugh.

“Sorry, sis, gotta make some room, or I’ll bust.”

Peter tapped my arm. “Hey, do me a favor?”

“No booze.”

“I know,” he insisted. “I just want to sniff it. Come on, Lee, let me live through you.”

“Fine,” I caved. “Which one?”

“Irish whiskey.”

“Of course,” I groaned, turning and making my way to the bar. Jake smiled, polishing a glass. “Got any Irish whiskey?”

He nodded. “Course. Didn’t take you for a whiskey, lady.”

“I’m not.” I nodded to Peter. “He loves it, though.”

My brother took his time, opting to listen to a story Ozzy started telling before meeting me at that bar. “So,” Jake started. “I knew you had a brother, but I didn’t know he was sick.”

I sloshed my drink around for a few seconds. “Yeah. He’ll pull through. Pete’s a fighter.”

“Why keep it a secret?”

“Didn’t want the pity.” I looked at him and chuckled. “Admit it, you pitied me a little when you realized he was sick.”

“Alright, fair point.”

“It just… Never sits well with me how everyone pities me and apologizes when I’m not sick.” I shook my head. “Peter is the one that has to live with it, that has to fight. He deserves respect and pity and everything in between.”

Peter sat down next to me, pulling the drink from my hand, lifting the glass to his nose, and inhaling deeply. “Ahh, that’s the good stuff.”

I put my hand on the glass when he pressed his lips to it. “No.”

“Just a little sip?” He begged.

“A tiny one,” I relented, loosening my hold on the glass only for him to tip it almost all the way back. “Peter!”

He chuckled, swallowing the rich liquid with a wince. “Sorry, sis, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Asshole,” I grumbled, pulling what remained in the glass away from him. Nicky chuckled. “Don’t encourage him!”

Patrick sat down on the opposite side of me and sighed. “Loosen up. One little drink won’t kill him.”

“No, but I might.”

“I’ve got to get back to the bar,” Ozzy said, pressing a kiss to my head and giving the boys a clap on the shoulder. “See you, kids, tomorrow! Try not to stay out too late. You make sure they rest, Lena.”

“When did she get put in charge?” Patrick complained.

“Since you chugged the wine!” Ozzy replied.

“Goodnight, Oz,” the three of us called after him.

With the last guests gone, everyone slowly began filtering down from the locker room. They all approached Peter with smiles and friendly handshakes. Sasha finally got to tell his story of meeting my sickly brother, and I introduced them all as best I could until I got to an unfamiliar face.

“And this is…” I looked more carefully at the girl standing in front of me. Dark hair, a round face, and a nervous smile. “I don’t actually know this one.”

“Olive,” she said with a giggle. “I just started.”

Smiling back, I offered her my hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Lena. I usually work in the kitchen.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said quietly. “You must be pretty good to be working in the kitchen.”

Laughing, I shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I’m sure you’ll pick things up quickly.”

She looked around with awe in her eyes. “I hope so. This place is amazing.”

“That it is,” Simone said, smiling at Peter and holding her hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet Lena’s family.” Her eyes trailed down his ill-fitting suit. “Though judging by the attire, it was last minute.”

Peter shook his head. “Not last minute. These idiots had their outfits picked out last week.”

Simone’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh, forgive me. I just assumed since it seems you hadn’t had the time to tailor the suit.”

Here we go, I thought to myself as Peter hid a smirk. “Oh, this used to fit me great. I lost quite a bit of weight recently. Leukemia is a bitch like that.”

Her face fell as she scrambled to apologize. I slapped his arm lightly and spoke to him in Irish, “Don’t make jokes like that.”

“It was funny,” He insisted. “Plus, she’s a bitch.”

I rolled my eyes. “No more cancer jokes, asshole.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “Sorry, my humor can be a bit… abrasive.” 

Simone cleared her throat and nodded. “It’s quite alright.” She caught Howard’s gaze and smiled. “Walk me home, Howard?”

The tall manager nodded. “Of course, goodnight changelings!”

“Now that the boring ones are gone,” Sasha began with a wide smirk. “Let’s give our guests a true party!”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “You hooligans forget I don’t have all night to sit around and clean up after you.”

I stood, downing the rest of my whisky, and headed around the bar. “Get outta here, Nicky, Jake, and I will clean up and close it all down.”

“Oh, will we?” Jake questioned with raised brows.

“Yep,” I answered sweetly as I kissed Nicky’s cheek. “Go on.”

Nicky looked over at Jake, who shook his head and shrugged. “You heard her. We got it.”

“Thanks,” he replied, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t break anything!”

I tied half my hair up to keep it out of my face and smiled over the bar at Sasha. “What do you want, prince Sasha?”

He beamed. “God, I love you!”

Jake and I worked side by side for a while, though he spent most of his time behind the bar answering the slew of questions the new girl asked him. She leaned over the side of the bar closest to the kitchen, showing off her cleavage and batting her eyes at him whenever he glanced her way. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the high-pitched praises she lamented to him, clearly looking to stroke more than his ego. Patrick wiggled his eyebrows at my slightly irritated face while Peter’s smile thinned into a straight line as he watched me from the other side of the bar.

Prue skipped through the front door before I could ask him what was wrong. She happily tracked Will down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before running to Peter and pulling him into her arms for a tight hug. Quinn smirked as she tossed something over the bar before giving my brother an equally loving hug. I caught the peach with relative ease. My brows furrowed. “No. Quinn, come on!”

“Yep!” Quinn said smugly, sitting down across from me. “I decree that The Peach Soiree will be held in one week’s time. Payback for not returning my calls when you left.”

Everyone looked at us like we were crazy, but Scott was the one to ask it outright, “What the hell is The Peach Soiree?”

I sighed, setting the peach down on the counter. “It’s a party kind of. We each get to be in charge of one every year.”

“Mine is The Peach Soiree,” Quinn said with glee winking at Ari. “I’m an ass girl.”

“Prue’s is The Melon Matinee,” I continued. “She throws hers at the beginning of the year because she’s impatient.”

Prue made a noise and quickly signed, “Fuck you.”

Quinn said, laughing, “And our lovely little Lena’s is The Cherry Gala.”

“Why cherry?” Jake asked, looking over at me with a sly grin. “Let me guess, the hair?”

“Nope,” I replied, making sure to pop the P.

“Wait, have they not seen what you can do with cherry stems?” Quinn asked with a shocked and delighted face.

I groaned and threw the peach at her. “You’re the worst! You know that, right?”

Jake turned with that devilish air of absolute curiosity that told me he wouldn’t let this go anytime soon. “Cherry stems, huh?”

“Yeah,” I answered, sliding Sasha his drink. “It’s not that impressive.”

“Let’s just say she’s good with her tongue,” Quinn teased. “She’d make a great lesbian.”

I pointed at her with a poorly concealed grin. “One more word, and I won’t offer to get your little soiree a reservation.”

Her mouth hung open, and her eyes shifted to large puppy dog eyes. “OH PLEASE!!! It would be so perfect, Lena! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do it if you shut up!”

“My lips are sealed,” she answered, dragging her long, manicured nail over her lips.

Jake leaned on the bartop. “So when’s your party?”

“Next year.”

“She used hers a few months ago,” Quinn said before remembering her promise.

“Was it any fun?”

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “I thought it was.”

He sighed, “Come on, princess. You gotta give me more than that.”

Quinn’s eyes grew wide at the nickname. I ignored her and Prue, looking at Jake with a smug smile. “I don’t, though.”

“That’s just cruel.” His eyes slid down to my lips. “You at least gonna show me that cherry trick?”

“It’s really not that impressive.”

Sasha rolled his eyes, reaching over the bar and clamoring around for the cherry jar. “Enough foreplay!” He set the jar in my hand and winked. “Show us what that talented tongue does, sassy Tiger!”

I shook my head, opening the jar and ignoring the hoops and hollers that filled the bar. I pulled two cherries free of the stems and showed them to everyone before popping them into my mouth. My tongue worked the top into a knot with ease before I turned it and did the same to the bottom, finishing the not-so-impressive heart shape by shoving my tongue between the two stems and bending the top with a tiny bit of pressure. Pulling it out of my mouth, I showed the group the little cherry stem heart and set it down on the bar top. “There. Like I said, not very impressive.”

Ari gave me a look as she fanned herself. “That was so hot.”

Quinn shot her a teasing look and laughed as Ari pinched her arm. Sasha clapped loudly. “Tiger Bitch you never fail!”

Jake picked the cherry stem heart up and looked at it for a minute before he turned to tease me. “That’s cute.”

“Shut up,” I groaned, trying to flick it out between his fingers. But instead, he moved it out of the way and laughed as I shoved him toward the kitchen. “Go get changed, loser.”

*

He squeezed past the busty, doe-eyed girl as she smiled, batting her eyelashes at him, and went upstairs to follow Lena’s advice and change. When he opened his locker to find the familiar sleek black leather of his jacket, Jake smiled. How the hell did she even get this up here? Her perfume was all over it, covering up the boozy musk he’d been so used to the old thing reeking of. God, he wanted to keep it to his nose and burn that smell into his sinuses.

After he changed into a simple T-shirt and jeans, he slid the jacket over his shoulders and put the cherry stem heart in his pocket, already thinking of how much fun he’d have pulling it out to randomly tease his little redhead. The doorway filled with the familiar copper-haired brute and the thinner bald man. Patrick and Peter looked around for a minute before they looked at each other. “You wanna start, or should I?

Peter scoffed, “I’m the oldest. I’ll start.”

“There a problem?” Jake asked calmly. If they’d wanted to kick his ass, Patrick certainly would have done it by now.

“Not yet,” Patrick replied, keeping his arm out as Peter took a step forward.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” the brother said with a grin. “Oz and Pat have been pretty good at keeping me in the loop regarding you and my little sister.”

Jake shook his head, leaning back against his locker. “There’s not much to tell. We’re friends.”

Patrick rolled his eyes, mumbling something in a different language that made Peter chuckle. “Friends is hardly the word I’d use to describe you two. But I don’t care what you call it so long as one thing stays the same. You respect her.”

“God knows she’s had enough of dumb little pretty boys taking advantage of her,” Patrick added, giving him a stern look, not unlike the ones he’d been giving him from the start. 

“Listen, Jake,” Peter continued. “I know, my sister. I know she comes off as this strong, indestructible force of nature that can kick anyone’s ass, and that doesn’t feel a damn thing.” He winced as he shifted, balancing himself on Patrick’s waiting arm. “Lena is strong… She is one of the strongest people I know, but she’s still human. It still hurts when people she cares about let her down.”

“And you think she cares about me?” He asked, trying to sound amused to cover up the way he genuinely wanted to know.

Patrick nodded, quietly making sure Peter wouldn’t fall. “She doesn’t bring just anyone to the old place, and she’s brought you more than enough times. Even talked about pops.”

“She also shared Cape Cod with you.” Peter nodded. “Yeah, I know about that. If she trusts you with that, then it means something. So, I’ll just cut to the chase to make a long conversation short. You hurt her, and I will kill you. Dom will be on board. He already isn’t too fond of you, so making it look like an accident or some bs will be a breeze.”

Jake looked at the thin, sickly man whose suit hung off him in a way that would typically be comedic. He could take Peter down with one light push if he wanted to. But, instead, he remembered how Lena spoke of him, of the big brother that loved to box and was kind and good. Peter may not have looked like a boxer now, but the rest remained true. So, Jake took his warning with a humble nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A smile spread on his face as he nodded. “Good. Now let’s go before she realizes we’ve been sneaky.”

Patrick helped him back down the stairs sparing Jake a last look over his shoulder. It was a quick and simple look of gratitude as he nodded his head to Jake that made him feel weird. He’d never had someone like Patrick’s approval… never had someone’s big brother treat him with respect instead of just chasing him out of his one-night stands with cuss words and physical threats. Jake held back a minute to sit in the feeling before putting on his black beanie and going back downstairs.

*

“Where to now, big brother?” I asked when Peter and Patrick returned from the bathroom. “The night is yours.”

Peter shrugged for a minute. “The old arcade?”

Sasha clapped his hands together. “I’ve never been to an American arcade! Is it shit?”

Patrick laughed, “Absolutely!”

“Can we come?” The Russian pleaded, his studded sleeves catching in the light as he brought his hands together to beg. “Please, little sick boy!”

“Everyone is more than welcome to come,” Peter insisted. “The more, the merrier, I always say. Unless the more are doctors, then it’s not as fun.”

Jake strode out from the kitchen, wearing his leather jacket and a simple black beanie. It was stupid how happy seeing him back in the jacket I’d bribed Isaac into sneaking into his locker. I hadn’t noticed before how well it suited him… how good he really looked in it. His lips curled into a smile as he caught my blatant stare. “Arcade?” I blurted out. “You coming with?”

“Aren’t those for kids?” He asked.

“They’re fun,” I insisted. “You coming or not, grumpy?”

Sasha leaned over the counter and tugged on Jake’s hat. “Come on, grumpy Jake! Join us in being children tonight!”

“You’re a child every night, Sasha,” Jake retorted, fixing his hat.

“I have to stop by my place to change,” I told Peter and Patrick as they started heading toward the door. “Please, for the love of god, tell me you two are going to change too.”

They laughed but nodded. Patrick waved his hand at me. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to ruin my suit!”

“See you there?” Peter asked, checking his watch. “Ten minutes?”

“See you in ten.”

Quinn nodded toward Prue and Will. “I’m catching a ride with them.”

“Se you there. Don’t let them fuck in the back of the cab!”

“On it!” She yelled back before disappearing out the door after Will and Prue.

I pointed to the rest of the group. “I can help cover cab fare with anyone that needs it, but I’ve gotta run home first.”

Sasha and Ari quickly raised their hands. “We want to see your apartment!”

“Why?” I asked.

“We have a bit of a bet going,” Ari admitted.

Sasha nodded, smirking. “I think you live like I do, filthy with sex toys and lingerie everywhere!”

Ari rolled her eyes. “And I think you’re a neat freak with drawers dedicated to your dirty sexy little secrets.”

“You two are nuts,” I replied. “But come on.”

“Got room for one more?” Jake asked.

I smiled. “I thought you were above the arcade.”

“I never said that,” he answered. “Can I ride with you or not?”

“Sure, just try not to let us children get on your nerves too much.”

The cab ride was pretty short, and before I knew it, I was leading two loud, obviously, already kind of drunk individuals up my front steps. Jake followed behind them quietly, taking in the sights of my building’s newly painted hallway as I unlocked my front door. Sasha and Ari scurried inside like two hyperactive dogs, quickly looking around to confirm or deny their bets. Once Jake stepped over the thresh hold, I closed the door and flipped on the lights. “Tada. Is it everything you hoped it would be?”

Sasha pouted as he handed Ari a twenty-dollar bill. “I’m disappointed in you, Tiger Bitch. I thought you’d be more of a mess.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I replied, patting his cheek as I passed. My apartment was nothing special. Most of my essential belongings were in my old bedroom above the gym, safely tucked away with two of the people I trusted most. Jake went straight for the bookshelf, leafing through my collection while Sasha and Ari opened drawers and cabinets randomly, trying to sniff out my secrets. “Make yourselves at home. I’ll just be a minute.”

I closed my bedroom door behind me, quickly fishing out my comfiest pair of jeans and a simple long-sleeved shirt from my drawers. Tossing them onto my bed, along with my comfortable shoes, I started trying to attempt the zipper on my dress. I could barely reach it, but no matter how much I pulled or wiggled the damn thing, it didn’t budge. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, I kicked off my shoes and opened my door.

“Hey,” I called out into the living room, turning my back to the now-open door. “Someone help me with this piece of shit zipper?”

I’d expected Ari or Sasha to come to my aid, but a familiarly rough hand settled on my back, and his smokey smell wafted around me. Jake’s fingers carefully brushed my hair over my shoulder, skimming the strip of exposed skin and causing a ripple of pleasure to shoot down my spine. I held in the unholy noise that threatened to make him even more smug and unbearable in his flirtatious pursuit. He pulled on the zipper a few times before it finally loosened, and the warm pads of his fingers glided down my spine, following the shape of the snake tattooed there until he stopped at the middle of my back. “Think you can get it the rest of the way from here?”

Swallowing the heated lump in my throat, I looked at him over my shoulder, smiling like a dumbass. “Yeah, I can get it. Thanks.”

Jake smirked, his eyes shamelessly drinking in the sight of my bare back. “No problem, princess.”

Damn him and that stupid nickname. I slid back behind the safety of my bedroom door, closing it with a quiet sigh. He’s just a friend. I reminded myself. Don’t be a dummy, you fucking dummy! I double-checked that the door was closed before sliding the dress off and shoving on my less-revealing clothes. I washed the makeup off my face and fixed a few puffed-up sections of my hair, securing the half updo and heading back to my living room.

Sasha and Ari were raccoons, sniffing through my kitchen and pulling my couch apart. Jake leaned against the wall by my door, reading one of the books he’d pulled off my shelf. “Sasha! Put my couch back together!”

“Where are the sex toys?” He whined. “I know they’re here!”

“Leave my sex toys alone, you Russian raccoon. Ari, don’t eat all my crackers.”

“Sorry,” she said with a mouthful of food. “I’m so high right now.”

Jake raised his brow. “What, no scolding for me?”

I shook my head. “I’m just as surprised as you.”

“Hemmingway?” He asked, lifting up the book. 

“It’s a classic.” I pulled it out of his hands and set it on the shelf. “Alright, let’s go. The arcade is just a little ways past Ozzy’s.”

Ari groaned. “We’re walking?”

“You walk everywhere,” I reminded her, practically shoving them all out my door and locking it behind me.

“I’m really high, though,” she laughed, leaning against Sasha.

He waved us on. “I’ve got her. Just lead the way.”

Jake and I took up the front, casually tagging one another at random and making small talk about the neighborhood and the arcade. It got easier to ignore the loud remarks Ari and Sasha made about Jake and Is “upcoming fucking" as they liked to call it. Though I could tell they made Jake tense up more each time.

The old arcade light shone brightly across the street, where the rest of our group huddled together, waiting. “There you are!” Heather rolled her eyes and slid beneath Sasha’s waiting arm. “These people are insane!”

“You can say that again,” the Russian agreed.

“Hey, Jake,” Olive chirped with an awkward wave.

His brows furrowed, but he waved back regardless as we made our way inside. It was shitty; old arcades usually were around here. You could practically taste the burnt pizza crust and cheap soda that was always just a little too watered down. Lights were on in every corner, flashing and dashing and everything in between. It was chaos. The chaos screamed with some of my few good memories from childhood.

I’d spent hours here on weeks when I was with my dad and the boys. We’d all spend the day running errands for Nana to earn enough change to buy some coins. Patrick rigged every game he touched, winning hundreds of tokens and ending up with the biggest prizes. Peter worshiped laser tag and got crazy good at it, while I just enjoyed the sounds and the freedom.

Breathing in the shitty air, I smiled. “God, this place is great.”

“It’s interesting,” Jake said quietly, analyzing the don’t room. “You spend a lot of time here?”

“When I was with my dad,” I admitted. “The three of us used to be quite the hit around here. Quinn too.

“I can imagine.”

Nudging him, I gestured to everything. “You ever get to waste time in a shit hole like this?”

He shook his head. “Not really. Simone hates these places, so she always found some excuse to keep me far away.”

The anger I felt toward Simone grew at that moment. Denying Jake so much of his childhood over something as minor as her own opinion was selfish. Though it wasn’t surprising considering the woman’s need for control. My brothers and Will stood by the door to the laser tag arena, their eyes lighting up as they caught mine, waving me over to get me to join their game. “So… You’ve never played laser tag before?”

“Nope,” he said.

They waved me over again, big eyes begging as they shouted please at me. “Come on then. You’re gonna lose your laser tag virginity.”

Jake rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Am I?”

“Come on,” I pleaded. “You’re being such a grump!”

“I’d be far less grumpy if I was drunk.”

“You gotta give this place a real shot. Come on!” I grinned. “I’ll let you be on my team.”

Finally, he gave in and nodded. “Fine, one game. But you owe me.”

I scoffed. “Resorting to extortion? That’s a new low.”

“Low but effective.”

“Alright, I’ll owe you. Now, let's go.”

Olive slipped into the group, evening out the teams. We all stood in the back room, getting fitted into our vests and assigned our guns. Olive, Jake, and I were on the blue team, while my brothers and Will were on the red team. The employees gave a very dull presentation on the game's safety and the rules while Patrick and I made faces at each other and silent threats with our hands.

“Don’t be fooled by Peter’s sickly appearance,” I warned, making sure my vest fit snuggly. “He’s an absolute powerhouse at laser tag.”

Jake smirked, overconfident. “Yeah?”

I slapped his arm. “Yeah, and he’s not gonna go easy on you, first time or not. Don’t even try to go up against Patrick. That asshole is insane, and he’s not afraid to throw a punch or two to win.”

“Sounds like you guys really hate losing.”

“We’re competitive,” I replied. “Especially when losers have to treat.”

“Competitive and cheap,” he said with a laugh. “You Harrows are somethin’ else.”

Rolling my eyes, I stepped forward, tightening one of his straps. Then, looking up at him through my lashes, I smiled, “Try to keep up grumpy.”

Olive cleared her throat and stepped up closer to us. “This is gonna be awesome, right?”

I stepped back and laughed. “Absolutely.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes at me, sticking his tongue out. Then, he shouted in Irish, “Your little boyfriend’s ass is mine, girly!”

“Not if I get your ass first!” I shouted back, flipping him off. “Pete, try not to overdo it!” Peter rolled his eyes, carefully following the employee back to their respective starts. 

The laser tag arena was two floors of walls, both large and short, with holes in various spots for aiming. The three of us stood on the far end, against the blue wall. From there, I could see the red wall peaking up over the second floor. The lights dimmed, and the neons glowed brighter, illuminating the shitty pattern on the carpet and casting all of us in a glow of ugly bright colors. Jake didn’t look ugly, though. As I turned to look up at him, I couldn’t ignore how the blue brought out his eyes and how the haze of greens, reds, and yellows made him look like he’d been carved from stone. 

He looked down at me with a smile, one of the rare ones that wasn’t some shit-eating smirk that followed his quips or the stiff ones I was convinced he smiled just because it was expected of him. “Better stay close, Red,” he said, tugging on a strand of my slightly luminous hair. I rolled my eyes and waited for the countdown and the vests' buzz, signaling the game's start. 

Peter would stay low. He had the energy to play, but that didn’t mean he had the energy to climb to the next level or down when the game ended. Patrick would go high, he always did to try to get some kind of advantage on the other team, and he liked jumping down and scaring people. And then there was Will. Will was the wildcard. I hadn’t played with him before, but he seemed like the type that would be surprisingly good at the game.

It began in earnest when the fog machines kicked in with that familiar hissing sound. We walked forward, and Olive practically curled into Jake’s side, not even bothering to keep her gun up. Peter’s vest peeked out from one of the barricades as he swiftly vanished in the fog. I stopped, quickly aiming and shooting the lit-up red vest just as Patrick jumped down, trying to catch us off-guard. He made a fuss for a moment before he grinned as Peter and Will emerged behind us.

Olive went down easy as Jake and I dodged to the side, squeezing into a little covered half circle. Chest to chest, I could smell his lightly spiced cologne and smoke as I looked up and smiled. “This close enough for you?”

Jake hummed, pressing himself even closer to me. “Not nearly close enough.”

“Peter’s the one to worry about.” I turned my head away from his intense gaze, looking at the little section I could see. “If Will’s smart, he’ll be going up top to try and get a better view.”

“I go high, you go low?” He asked.

“It’s a decent plan,” I answered.

He nodded to the dark foggy arena. “Let’s go then. I’d hate to owe your brothers a drink.”

I slipped out first, going right where Peter had been last. Glancing back at Jake, who headed left toward the upper level, I admired the bright smile on his face and the gleam of a childhood dream being fulfilled. My brother was moving slower than usual, which led us to our stalemate, him behind one of the erect barriers and me behind one of the kneeling ones. “Having fun, Pete?”

“I’m about to kick your ass at laser tag. Of course, I’m having fun!”

With a laugh I stood, aiming my gun at the barrier he should have been behind, only to have him jump out from a different one and hit square on the sensor. “Damn! You’re moving quicker than I thought!”

He shrugged. “I’ll admit I have had to resort to some of Patrick’s trickery.”

His vest flashed as a laser from up top hit the sensor. Jake smirked down at us. “Trickery aside, that was a good game.”

Peter nodded. “Looks like we owe you two a drink.”

“Don’t worry about it tonight,” I said, patting my brother on the back. “We’ll demand payment in two or three business days.”

“How considerate of you.”

In the back room where we removed our gear, Olive chattered about how fun the game was and how amazing Jake did. A heavy pit began to form in my chest as I watched her hop on her feet, drawing Jake’s eyes to the low neckline of her top and the very obvious cleavage that practically spilled out of it. It was a decent move to get a man's attention, one I couldn’t fault her for taking advantage of, but something about it bothered me. I felt… disappointed… disappointed that he looked? No. I shook my head and smiled as Jake turned to look at me. “Good game. You’re now officially no longer a laser tag virgin.”

“It was pretty straightforward,” he answered. “But it was nice having a seasoned vet in my corner.”

The six of us returned to the main lobby, purchasing coins and slowly making our way through various games. Quinn pulled me onto the dance machine next to her the second I tried to slide past. “Dance with me!”

“You dance all night for a living,” I teased. “How can you have the energy for this?”

“I have godly stamina,” she replied, winking at Ari. “You know that, Lee.”

“Alright, bring it on, stamina goddess!”

Both of us bobbed to the music that played over the shitty surround system, barely even looking at the screens before we started moving our feet. Left. Left. Right. Back. Right. Front. It brought me back to when Quinn and I first started hanging out. The wild nights of her and I ripping up the arcade with Patrick and Peter until Dad and Ozzy eventually came to drag us home. 

She grabbed my hand, belting out the song's words and urging me to give in to the music. “Move your hips, Lena, just like I taught you!” Through the others gathered around cheering us on, I could feel Jake’s eyes. Unlike the many times before, this time, there was a rush to have captured his gaze. It made my face burn and my heartbeat quicken ever so slightly as I tried to focus on the moves, not him.

Quinn won. She always won; of course, when she did, she was unbearable about it. “HA!” She cheered, jumping up and down, shaking her ass at me. “And that is why stamina is important, kids!”

I slapped her hip and hopped down. Patrick took my place and grinned at her. “Let’s go, Quinny.”

Prue waved me to where she and Will stood next to Jake and Olive at the mini golf course. “Grab a putter and come with us!”

Jake clapped his hands together. “Quite the show you gave us, princess.”

I followed Prue’s instructions and smirked at him. “Never would have pegged you for a golf guy.”

“I’m not,” he admitted. “Prue’s convincing, though.”

“Yeah, she’s good at dragging people to do stuff.” I swung my putter around a little. “What’d she bribe you with?”

“Secrets,” Jake whispered, smacking my putter with his.

I rolled my eyes. “Liar. Prue’s an angel. No amount of golf could convince her to sell my secrets.”

Jake shrugged. “Maybe, but I can be convincing too.”

Prue and Will headed inside, leading the group in the shittiest and shortest mini-golf course. Jake was surprisingly shit at it, which made the whole thing much more fun. Olive was good, clearly coming from that family that always went mini golfing on vacations, but she purposefully stuck back. I bit my lip, watching her stand just a little too close to Jake as he lined up his shot. Prue rubbed my arm and quietly asked, “You good?”

I finished the final hole and smiled at her. “I’m good.”

The employee looked at my card and gave me a string of tickets as I exited and headed toward the ticket counter. I didn’t want to focus on how I felt seeing Olive glued to Jake’s side all night. I didn’t want to admit that maybe… just maybe, the little green monster had bitten my ass while I wasn’t looking. Even worse, I didn’t want to admit that the little green monster was only a symptom of a much larger and much more complicated feeling. So instead, I waited for them to count my tickets and give me whatever shitty prize I’d won. 

From the front, I could see everyone laughing with each other as they moved from one game to another. Sasha had his arms around Ari and Heather, pointing out how most game names could be dirty if you said them right. Peter sat in his wheelchair, tossing the small basketballs across the long game toward the hoop. He was good, but I could see the effort it took him now to keep getting the ball through the hoop. Patrick stood beside him, tossing balls, each one missing completely. 

Jake strolled out of the mini-golf section and put his gear away before making his way to my side. “Finally finished?”

Leaning against the counter, he replied, “I told you I’m not a golf guy.”

“Yeah, well, a little golf didn’t kill you,” I teased. “Got any tickets to cash in?”

“You actually keep those?” He questioned with a raised brow.

“Hell yeah!” I insisted, nodding to the wall of cheap toys. “I wouldn’t miss out on this goldmine.”

He chuckled, watching the man behind the counter finish counting and pull a little stuffed frog out from beneath the counter. “This is what I’ve got for thirty tickets.”

I giggled, looking at the tiny crooked crown, its angry face, and its too-long limbs. “It’s perfect, thank you.” Then, turning to present the stuffed animal to Jake, I grinned. “See? Who wouldn’t want this?”

He nodded along. “It’s quite the prize for all your hard work. You gonna name it too?”

Humming, I looked at the little angry frog face and laughed. “I think I’ll call him Jake.”

Jake laughed and shook his head. “How creative.”

“He even looks like you,” I replied, showing him the grumpy face and laughing harder.

“Jake!” Olive called out, hurrying from the golf cave with a handful of tickets. “You forgot your tickets.”

With a sigh, he took them from her hands and tossed them over the counter to the employee, who started counting them. “Thanks.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at him. “This has been quite a night, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he answered, barely looking at her. “It’s been fun.”

“I thought arcades were too childish for your adult tastes,” I responded. “Is this you admitting that maybe I was right?”

He rolled his eyes. “It is childish, but I guess I liked it more than I thought I would.”

I nodded. “Soooo, I was right?”

Jake laughed and shook his head but relented all the same. “You were right.”

The employee finished counting the tickets and set another frog on the counter. “Here’s your prize.”

Jake looked at the frog with a wide grin before he turned it around to show it to me. His frog had a similar crown but had exaggerated red lips and long eyelashes with little stars in its eyes. “Aww, you got a cute one! You gonna name it?”

“I think I’ll call her Lena,” he replied with a shit-eating grin. “Even looks like you.”

“Oh ha ha,” I answered, swatting his cheek with my frog. “You’re hilarious.”

Olive stood close by us, awkwardly waiting for an opening to show off the simple eraser she’d gotten with her handful of tickets before she politely asked Jake to show her how a game worked. He stuffed his frog into his pocket and walked back into the game section of the arcade as I found a nearby place to sit to give my feet a break. Quinn slid into the seat across from mine, turning to glare at the dark-haired girl across the room. “Are we fucking this bitch up or not?”

“What are you on about?” I asked with a nervous laugh.

“Uhh, the new bitch that’s been glued to your man’s side all night, twirling her hair and touching up on him.” She elaborated as Prue sat beside me.

“That bitch needs to go down,” she signed. “Touching his chest. Putting her dirty hoe ass hands on YOUR jacket!”

I rolled my eyes and swallowed that annoying sense of possessive jealousy that had threatened to overtake me all night. The one I was NOT entitled to feel. “Jake isn’t my man, and the jacket is his. If he wants to flirt with her, he can. He should! We’re just friends.”

Quinn shook her head, pointing to my face. “Ohhh, you’re fuckin pissed!”

“I am not!”

Prue smoothed a finger down the tight crease in between my eyebrows. “Damn, she better back off before you send her to a morgue!”

I rolled my eyes at her and shoved Quinn’s finger down with a sigh. “Listen, Jake is a big boy. He is free to make his own decisions. We’re. Just. Friends.”

The two looked at one another before rolling their eyes. “Right, just friends, whatever you wanna call it, Lee.”

They leaned back, giving me a clear view of Olive giggling at whatever he’d said and tugging on the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him toward some game. This was dumb. Irrational even. Jake was my friend, a friend I liked because friends like each other. It didn’t mean I liked him or had any reason to be angry that someone else liked him too. On the contrary, Jake was fun to be around and fun to flirt with, and I was not the only one entitled to enjoy those things.

After my feet felt a bit less sore, I returned to the fun. Olive now stood with everyone else, watching Sasha and Patrick battle it out on the dance machine. Jake wasn’t with them. I tapped Olive’s shoulder, asking over the noise, “Where’d Jake go?”

She shrugged. “We were over there by the older arcade games. When I turned around to ask him which one he wanted to try, he was gone. I figured he was with you.”

I ignored the snark in her tone and followed her finger over to where she’d said they were when she lost track of him. The annoyingly jaunty tune from the old Swimmer arcade game echoed in my ear as I looked at the group of teenagers attempting to play it. The small figure of the man hit a log before slowly sinking into the water. Game over. Shit. I hurried toward the nearest bathroom, hoping Jake was as easy to predict as I was in moments of panic.

“Jake?” I knocked on the bathroom door before slowly pushing it open just enough that he could hear me. “Jake? It’s Lena.” All I could hear for a minute was the sound of the water running, but the longer I stood in the doorway, the more obvious the uneven sound of his breathing got. “I’m gonna come in… Okay?”

He didn’t speak as I opened the door and quickly shut it behind me. Jake sat on the floor, his face wet and his chest heaving with the effort each sharp breath he sucked in took. I knelt down in front of him, taking up the space between his legs. “Can you tell me what you need?”

Jake shook his head, eyes glossy with tears he refused to let fall. “That’s okay,” I assured him. “Let’s just focus on breathing.” I slowly took hold of his hand and pressed it to my chest, sliding closer to him. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”

He nodded.

“Can you feel my breaths?”

He nodded again.

“Good. Now just try and breathe with me, okay?” I took deep, slow breaths counting quietly out loud to give him some kind of audible distraction. After a few minutes, his breathing began to match my own. “There you go. Just focus on breathing.” Jake’s blue eyes watched me closely, a fear I was familiar with staring back at me. I hadn’t seen this side of him before, and I had no idea what he needed, so I just squeezed his hand and smiled at him, calm and gentle. “You’re here,” I told him, imagining all the times my dad had said the same to me. “You’re safe with me.”

That did something. The fear slowly shifted to a deep look of relief, and then just as quickly, his eyes tore away from me, and his face burned with embarrassment and frustration. I didn’t move, not even when he pulled his hand away from my chest, setting the still, slightly shaking limb on his knee as he flattened his legs out. After a moment of silence, he spoke, voice slightly off. “You can go now. I’m fine.”

“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” I said softly. The unspoken message was communicated as I retook hold of his hand. I’m here.

Jake chuckled breathlessly. “Not for me.”

“Why not?” I asked. He didn’t answer, just kept his eyes trained on the wall. For a minute, I just let him catch his breath before I squeezed his hand. “You’re human too, Jake. And after everything that’s happened… That biker asshole punching you and my shit in Cape Cod combined with your own Cape-related stuff. So understandably, you’d be feeling overwhelmed.”

Jake sighed. “It’s so fucking stupid. All this over a dumb arcade game.”

“It’s not stupid.” I stroked my thumb over the back of his hand. “It took me years to get over that shitty fake drowning animation. I still can’t go swimming. No matter how shallow the water is, I always feel like I’m going to sink.” His eyes held the understanding that his face refused to show as he looked at me for a second. “We don’t get to choose what affects us. We just have to do our best to get through it.”

A cold, empty look settled on his face as he retreated back into the safety of his shell with only a quiet mumbled, “Thank you.” 

“That’s what friends are for,” I answered, slowly withdrawing. “I’ll give you a few minutes to yourself.”

He didn’t answer, just nodded stiffly. 

Coming from a place of absolutely no experience with Jake after a panic attack, I couldn’t offer him much, and it was likely even he didn’t know what he needed. Some space was all I could really give him. And even that didn’t feel like enough. He was my friend, and though he’d opened up to me significantly over the past few months, Jake was still Jake. He was closed off and private about the serious stuff. Even after everything I’d shared with him, he’d given me the bare minimum about himself. That was okay. I was prepared to take the friendship at his pace, given his seemingly limited experience with this sort of thing outside Simone’s well-crafted role.

Jake thought he had to do it all alone, just like I did after moving away from my mother. I was determined to show him he didn’t, just like my dad and Oz and Peter and Patrick had shown me. I didn’t have to suffer alone, and neither did Jake. I kept the group busy while Jake took whatever time he needed, which evidently wasn’t much. It took him all of five minutes to slip out of the bathroom and silently make his way to the door, leaving without a word to anyone. I watched him go, quietly hoping he’d be okay. 

The night dragged on, and no one commented on Jake’s absence. He’d done this a lot, I’d gathered. Finally, when the arcade closed for the night, everyone parted ways. Peter was exhausted though he’d never openly admit it, and Patrick had efficiently worn him out too. I helped them get home, opting to stay the night in the old apartment just in case Peter needed anything. The three of us collapsed onto Peter’s old bed, now clean with fresh sheets. 

His room was still pretty bare, boxes holding most of his belongings, so none of it got lost while he was away, but the gentle green that painted the walls and the boxing paraphernalia that remained made him smile as he pushed his head into his pillow, fluffing it gently. “I forgot how good real beds feel.”

Patrick rolled onto our legs, trapping us to the bed as he used our limbs to stretch out his back. “Tomorrow, we can continue celebrating, but let’s all just enjoy the peace and quiet for tonight.”

“You enjoy the quiet?” I laughed, lifting my leg to dig my foot into the spot between his shoulders where I knew he held most of his tension. “That���s a good idea, Pat, one of your first!”

“Shut up.”

We laughed for a minute or two before letting the room grow quiet. Outside, the noises of the city were muffled against the sound of Peter’s ceiling fan whirling and the bumping of the old furnace kicking on randomly every few minutes. The sounds of home always helped me drift off, but as I curled into the blankets, Peter mumbled, already half asleep, “I like him.”

“Who?” I asked in a mostly teasing tone. “The arcade guy?”

Peter kicked me. “Jake, you idiot.”

Opening my eyes, I looked at his face, searching for the sarcastic quip that was no doubt coming. Peter was sincere, though, his calm face bathed in the moonlight from his window as he smiled. “You do?”

“He reminds me of you when you still lived with mom.” He shook his head, chuckling. “He seems polite too. Didn’t even laugh when my skinny ass threatened to kill him if he hurt you.”

“When did you do that?”

Patrick groaned from the bottom of the bed. “Did you really think we needed to go to the bathroom?”

I sighed. “You two are idiots. Nothing is happening with Jake and me, so your stupid little threat was pointless.”

Peter just smiled a little wider. “I know you better than anyone, sis. Nothing is going on right now, but you like him.”

“He’s conventionally attractive, but he’s-”

“Your type. Stop pretending you haven’t thought about it.”

“I haven’t,” I insisted. It was a lie, of course, but they didn’t need to hear that.

Patrick laughed, shaking the bed. “Was she always so bad at lying? Or has she just gotten worse over the last few months?”

Peter joined in. “Oh, she’s definitely gotten worse.”

“Fuck both of you,” I replied, trying to kick both of them.

The room grew quiet again, and Peter pulled me into his side, hugging me tightly. “I mean it, though; he seems like an okay guy.”

“Thanks, Pete.” I snuggled into his side, glad to finally have him home again. “Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep. Your sick little ass needs it.”

When my idiot brothers finally closed their eyes and started snoring, I flipped my phone open, scrolling to Jake’s contact and sending a simple message.

Goodnight, Jake.

I lay in bed, watching the hands of the clock until my phone lit up. Relief made the tension I’d been holding onto disappear as I melted into the bed, smiling at his equally simple response.

Goodnight, Lena.

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 4: Leather Jacket

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

TW: a bit of angst, recalling feelings of loss and depression, memories, drinking, mentions of drugs/past addiction, hospitals, violence (nothing too graphic), emotional distress, theft, language, poor coping mechanisms.

The warm air was filled with pine and old leather with a tinge of cigar smoke and cheap perfume. Home. The stiff pillow scratched against my cheek and the soft matted fabric of the blanket draped over my shoulders, tucking me safely into the crickety old bed. It’d been a while since I’d fallen asleep here, a while since I’d even gone upstairs to the small apartment above the gym. For a minute I just lay there, perfectly awake in my old bed while the soft sound of Patrick walking around the kitchen echoed through the thin walls. 

When I did finally open my eyes, the speck of light that poured in through the old yellow curtains blinded me for a moment before my vision cleared and the posters that lined the walls came into view. Old bands I used to love among old photos, and shitty artwork… these walls held the memories of my life, the ones actually worth remembering. I sat in bed and looked at each of them for a moment before I stretched my heavy limbs and dragged myself out of bed.

Patrick had just sat down at the old white table when I emerged from the room rubbing the sleep from my eyes. He took a sip of his coffee and nodded to the pot. “I made extra.”

“What no breakfast?” I teased, tousling his coppery hair as I slid past him toward the kitchen. Old worn countertops lined with stains and scuffs reminded me of all the dishes I’d cooked in here side by side with my dad.

“Take all complaints up with Oz,” Patrick said with a chuckle. “He told me to get you up and send you down.”

I groaned, grabbing my mug and filling it halfway with coffee, and clinking it gently against dads old mug before moving to sit beside him at the table. “And here I was thinking I’d escaped my scolding.”

He laughed, looking up from his paper with a smirk. “Escape the almighty Oz? Not even you are strong enough to do that.”

“Evidently not,” I sighed. Anywhere else the silence would be uncomfortable and tense. Anywhere else I would feel buried beneath the words unspoken, but here it was warm and peaceful. This silence wasn’t silence it was quiet. “So, how mad is he?”

“No one’s mad at you Lena,” Patrick assured me quietly.

“Then why the breakfast scolding?”

“He’s worried, Lena,” he replied. “We all are.”

I shook my head. “There’s nothing-”

“Don't.” Patrick’s bright eyes met mine, the seriousness in them stopped me in my tracks. “We aren’t going to pretend like I didn’t spend hours pulling you out of that attack last night.”

My fingers drummed along the ceramic mug warming my hands. “I… Thank you, Pat.”

He sat up and set his things down. “I don’t need you to thank me, Lena. We’re family. I’d spend days helping you if I needed to. But, we’re not just going to brush it off afterward. That’s not how pops did it and I’m not looking to start the habit now.”

“Alright,” I mumbled. “Ask then.”

“What happened?”

It should have been a simple question to answer. What happened? Was it Maddie? Was it Ian getting beat to shit? Was it the resurfacing of that urge to fight? All of them maybe? Or none of them. Sink or swim. The look on Jake’s face last night flashed in my mind as I shook my head and sighed. “Maybe I’m finally losing my mind.”

Patrick shrugged. “No one would blame you. Life’s been pretty unrelenting for the past four… five years.”

“Yeah,” I looked into my mug, watching the dark liquid ripple. “I feel like I’m drowning, Patrick. It feels like I’m… Like I…”

His hand grabbed one of mine and squeezed. “You’re here, Lena. Not stuck in that penthouse or that fucking restaurant and sure as hell not on that boat. You’re home.”

I nodded and smiled at him. “It’s just so much harder now and I…” A rouge tear rolled down my cheek. “I’m scared I’m gonna lose it all.”

“Not possible.” He wiped my stray tear and held my cheek. “Cause no matter what happens you’ve got the family. Me, Oz, Peter, hell even Prue and Quinn aren’t going anywhere.”

For a short moment, I thought about how different life would be without Patrick, how it would be worse if my dad had never taken him in off the street and made him part of our family. “You’re a good brother, Pat.”

“Better than Peter?” He joked wiggling his eyebrows.

I slapped his arm. “I don’t play favorites.”

He slapped mine back. “Whatever. You’d better get goin, Oz doesn’t have all day.”

“Message received,” I said moving my dishes to the sink and kissing him on the head as I made my way to the door. “Have fun with your paper.”

I let myself out the back door of the gym and into the alley where Dom stood beside the door to the bar, smoking. With a light hum at the sight of me here he looked around for a minute before asking, "You using again?"

"No." 

"Lookin to?"

I’d be a lie to say I hadn’t thought of it. Back in the day after a panic attack like the one I had last night, it’d be the first thing I did the next day. Part of me wanted to say yes… wanted to feel anything but the crushing weight that my shoulders had been bearing for the past few years. Dom wouldn’t judge me. I shook my head, pushing the deep urges down inside me. "No."

"Good," he said with a smile. "If you do though, come to me. The last thing I need is to worry about some moron sellin you that cheap laced shit and putting your ass in the hospital."

I laughed. "You itching to play babysitter Dom?"

"Call it the Lena special.” He chuckled, “Mean it though, you call me day or night and I'll be there. Don't even gotta bring the drugs."

"Thanks, Dom." I patted his shoulder. "Never change."

“You neither, kid.”

The bar was empty, save the crew in charge of cleaning up the place, as I made my way to Ozzy’s office where he stood in the doorway waiting. His silver and gray hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and the big glasses reflected the lights as he turned to me and clapped. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for an hour.”

“Sorry Oz,” I said pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You know I need my beauty sleep.”

“Posh!” He insisted. “Any more beauty sleep and I’ll have to beat the boys off with a stick!”

“Where are we heading to big guy?” I asked threading my arm through his as we walked out toward the street.

He smiled widely. “Only the best place in New York City!”

Rolling my eyes I laughed. “You’d better have her money or she’s gonna kick your ass.”

“Nana would never!” I spared him a look and he shrugged. “Alright she would, but I have her money so we should both be spared.”

Nana’s was one of the oldest diners in the city, snuggled between a laundry mat and a pharmacy it was a big breakfast spot among plenty of drunks, drug addicts, gamblers, and thieves. Ozzy and I fit right in, just another pair of degenerates in the cesspool of the city. The old, slightly discolored building came into view and I couldn’t help but smile at the fond memories my family had here. The second we walked through the door the old woman descended on Ozzy like a bird of prey. Her newspaper in one hand, swatting at him, while she shouted in Arabic. The simple hijab framed her face nicely, pulling all the focus toward her large glasses and beautifully wrinkled skin.

Ozzy put his hands up to defend himself. “Nana! I've got your money. I’ve got your money - stop hitting me!”

Finally, the old woman halted in her beating and looked at him with narrow eyes. “You give it to Abdul and no more betting!”

“One more bet, Nana. The races are tomorrow.”

“No more bets!” She hollered raising her newspaper and waving it around. “You are too old to be acting like a child Oswald.”

As soon as Ozzy scurried off toward the back of the small space to speak with Abdul, who worked behind the counter, Nana smiled at me and opened her arms. “My little Lena!”

The warmth of her embrace was filled with spiced perfume and quiet words she’d whisper to me in Arabic, a prayer almost. Her hands cupped my cheeks as she smiled at me. “Good morning Nana.”

“Where have you been child?” She demanded. “You look thin, have you been eating?”

“I’ve been eating,” I assured her.

She hummed, clearly not convinced as she dragged me into the lobby and guided me toward a table. “Sit, sit! Abdul and I will make you all your favorites!”

I shook my head quickly, “Nana please don’t fuss! I’m just here for breakfast.”

She shushed me and hurried off to the kitchen just as Ozzy came around the back, still laughing at whatever joke Abdul had told him. He sat down across from me and smiled widely, looking around and admiring a few things here and there. The decor was classic Middle Eastern, with touches of New Yorks highlights. Pictures of famous people lined the back wall while all the others were adorned with bright paints and family ties. Nana had been in business here longer than I could remember, so long she'd become the neighborhood grandma, but that didn’t stop her from keeping things looking good. “Place is looking good.”

“Patrick’s been coming down to help them with some small maintenance issues,” he said.

From behind the counter, Nana cheered softly, "Such a good boy!"

“Patrick is good at stuff like that.”

Nana brought us drinks, stopping to make some light conversation with Ozzy now that he wasn’t on her bad side, before heading back into the kitchen. Oz took a drink and sighed. “You feeling better today?”

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “I’m good Oz.”

“Lena,” he scolded. “You remember your promise to me?”

Fucking… “No lies.”

“What did it in?” He questioned, similarly to Patrick. “The truth, please.”

“Honestly I think it’s just the mixture of everything. Maddie showing up, people at the restaurant gossiping… you know, the usual.”

Oz tilted his head to the side. “I thought you were getting along with your coworkers. They come to the bar almost every night now.”

“Not them,” I clarified, rubbing my head. “Well not all of them at least.”

“Ahhh, this is about the boy, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“You can tell me, you know,” he continued with a smirk. “I won’t tell the girls.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that, Oz.”

“You like him.”

“Ozzy!”

“You do!” He held his hands up and shrugged. “You took him through the gym and showed him the old couch. I’m old, but I’m not stupid. My Lena doesn’t show just anyone that place.”

I scoffed. “Yeah and I immediately regretted it so there's a reason I don't.”

Taking another drink he urged me to continue, “He's a boy, darling, they're not known for being smart.”

“Yeah, well, this ones particularly stupid then," I grumbled. "He just… told someone at work about it and…” I picked at the table and shook my head. “She reminds me of her. They have the same mannerisms, the same personality, hell they even use the same words sometimes it’s just uncomfortable.”

“Does this Jake know about all that?”

“No.” I shook my head and laughed quietly. “No, that’d be a fucking disaster.”

Ozzy caught my eye and smiled. “Maybe, but does he know why it bothered you?”

I shrugged. “I mean I told him some of it… the basics.”

“Then would it not be best to give him the benefit of the doubt?”

“You want me to forgive him?”

With a chuckle, he nodded. “I don’t know him, and I won’t pretend to. But, he reminds me of you.”

“I don’t know, I think I’m way better looking than he is.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was thinking more along the lines of stubborn and rebellious. He seems to have a genuine curiosity about him, at least where you’re concerned.”

“He just wants to get in my pants Oz.”

“If that were the case, I doubt he’d come to the bar every night, even when you aren’t there.”

For a minute I wanted to laugh because it just had to be a joke. Jake wouldn’t bother stopping by the bar, not when he knew I wouldn’t be around to mess with. But Ozzy wouldn't lie. “He’s stopped by the bar every night?”

“He doesn’t stay long,” Oz said. “But the way he looks at the place reminds me of the way you used to when you’d visit before.” He leaned over the table. "You like him. In what way I don't know but if you didn't you would have given him a good time and sent him on his way like all the others."

"You're starting to sound like Quinn."

“Listen to the ramblings of an old man or don’t, but… He seems lost like you were. Maybe he just needs someone in his corner, someone like you. I'd wager he has more in common with you than you’d give him credit for, and I think you know that."

“I…” I paused, thinking back on what he'd said last night. I didn't know what he'd been through, nor what had made him trust Simone so fiercely, but Ozzy was right. “I’ll think about it, Oz.”

Nana set a huge tray of food down in front of us and smiled. “Eat! The two of you must be starving!”

*

I walked into work at least five pounds heavier from all the food Nana insisted I eat and while Maddie’s visit certainly left a tense air in the kitchen things seemed to have gotten back to normal. Scott simply nodded at me as he continued taste-testing the sauces. “Sasha saved you a plate from the family meal.”

I groaned. “No thank you. If I take one more bite I’ll explode.”

“Big breakfast?”

“You ever had an 80-year-old Arabic Nana shovel food into your mouth?”

He winced. “Say no more, go get dressed it’s gonna be a long night.”

“Yes, Chef.”

Will paced back and forth in front of the locker room, visibly perking up when I came up the stairs. “Lena! I need to ask you for a favor.”

“What’s up?”

“I… Well, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to… to teach me sign language.”

A wide grin spread on my lips. “Trying to seduce the lovely Prue?”

He shook his head, laughing nervously. “I just want to be able to talk to her more.”

“That’s good, 'cause she won’t stop pestering me about you.”

“Really?”

The dopey gleam in his eyes made me want to laugh, but I held it in and nodded. “Yeah, she thinks you're sweet.”

Will blushed and smiled. “Sunday nights work for you?”

“Sunday nights are perfect.”

“Thanks, Lena,” he said awkwardly giving me a hug. “Now, get ready or whatever.”

“Yes, manager Will!” I joked walking into the locker room and quickly changing into my work clothes.

I enjoyed this part of the night, the peaceful quiet of the locker room before the storm that service always turned into. It felt like a ritual of sorts, methodic and soothing every time I did it. My fingers crinkled into my leather jacket as I hung it on a coathanger and slid it into my locker, tracing my dad's name for a minute to ground me.

“Little one,” the soft, almost disembodied, voice sent chills up my spine. Every hair stood on end and a wave of panic rolled through me as I turned my head, ears ringing, expecting to see her standing next to me. Instead, I found Simone looking at me from her locker with a curious expression on her face.

I forced myself to dissociate from the old voice playing over in my head and looked over at Simone. “What… what did you call me?”

She chuckled, bashfully smiling. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s an old nickname I’d gotten used to using.”

“Oh,” I breathed out. “Well, if it’s all the same to you I’d prefer just my name next time.”

“Of course, Lena.” She replied, though there was a lingering something in her eyes, something I had to physically turn away from to keep from being sucked into more throws of unpleasant memories.

I closed my locker. “Did you need something?”

“I was going to ask you for some help with the napkins and salt shakers. Howard let the family meal go on a bit longer this morning so things are a little behind.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” I replied quietly.

Simone turned, buttoning up her shirt slowly as she looked at me. “Are you alright? You seem… dazed.”

Part of me wondered if this was another conversation led by Jake’s gossiping, but the other wanted to believe it wasn’t. As I looked into her cold and calculating eyes for a moment I forgot who she was… who she reminded me of. I smiled and shook my head. “I’m fine. It’s just been a busy few days.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” She agreed, lifting her hands to my hair, still loosely framing my face. “May I?”

“Yes.” My voice was quiet, one I’d long forgotten until this moment. I cursed myself quietly as Simone smiled and moved behind me, retrieving a brush from her locker and carefully combing it through my hair.

She hummed as she brushed, “You have beautiful hair.”

“Such beautiful hair,” she said, pausing in her gentle tune. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at her through the mirror as she carefully arranged the red strands into a tight ponytail.

“There you go,” Simone said, turning me toward the mirror with a smile over my shoulder. She tightened the ponytail. “Perfect.”

“There we are.” She smoothed her hands down my head and lightly pinched my cheeks to bring the color to them. “My perfect little lady.”

I carefully peeled myself away from her hands, heart pounding in my chest. “Thank you, for the help.”

Her lips twisted into a smile. “It’s no problem. I’ve always enjoyed doing hair. Forever ago I wanted a little sister more than anything, someone to spoil and dress up.” She sighed. “As I said before, I do want to be your friend Lena.”

“I appreciate it, Simone.” I clenched my jaw and then continued despite the way part of me wanted to accept her offer and curl into that maternal thing she was offering. “But, I still think it would be best if we’re just coworkers.”

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” she said. “Hopefully one day we can revisit the topic one day.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I replied cautiously.

Simone said nothing else as she continued to get ready for the long night ahead of us. I made quick work of the tasks she needed help with, desperate to lose myself in any task, anything that would purge the unwanted blips of the past from my mind. I could feel Jake watching me from the bar, could hear Nicky and him exchange in short and pleasant conversation while I moved about the dining area quickly, and after the feeling of tension finally began to dissipate I found myself on the second floor looking down at the stupid bartender.

Everything about him said reserved and closed off, right down to the way he stood. It had been easy enough to ignore most things about him when he’d been hellbent on flirting with me every second, but now that I’d seen that sliver of genuineness it was like my eyes were open. Ozzy was right. Jake and I weren’t that different. I didn’t know what his trauma was and he didn’t know mine, but we handled it similarly. Close yourself off. Shut down. Run away from everything that feels too real. The two of us could be stubborn and rebel all we wanted, pretend we were above it all, but that did little to change the fact that we were just as scared and damaged as everyone else.

Service that night was a rushed blur of fire and sauces and dishes I knew by heart. A silence remained in the kitchen, one I could only assume was lingering tension left in my aunt's wake, another thing I was familiar with by now. Isaac kept a close eye on me, no doubt having been filled in by Ozzy and Patrick before coming in for his shift, and though I appreciated their concern it made things feel heavier… made me feel like every move I made was one step closer to them pouncing on me and smothering me with too much attention and too many things. I loved them, what remained of my little family, but they could be a lot to deal with, especially all at once.

Once service had ended everyone hung around the kitchen, snacking on a few plates of leftovers. I helped Santos wash the remaining dishes, still trying to busy my mind and ignore the way I kept looking at Ari with the words stuck in my throat… the words that would undo all the hard work I’d put into the past few years and no doubt lead me right back down that dark and twisted path I had dragged myself out of. Isaac noticed, of course, and dragged me out with the group, sharing every story he could think of to help keep my mind off the persistent thoughts.

I stood off to the side of the bar, watching my coworkers and friends, honing in on Jake and Simone as the two of them migrated toward one another. Simone laughed at whatever Jake had said to her as he poured her a glass of wine. The interaction seemed odd in my mind, though whether that was old paranoia or a true shift in her demeanor I couldn’t tell. Jake seemed adamant that I didn’t know her, that if I did we would be friends, but something in me just knew that wasn’t true. Maybe it was because Simone triggered a part of me that I wanted to stay buried, or maybe it was something new entirely and I didn’t know which was more terrifying.

Howard settled into the spot beside me and sighed. "Still thinking about what she said?"

I chuckled nervously. “What?”

“Maddie,” Howard clarified. “Are you still thinking about what she said? It seems like she always knows exactly how to get under your skin, doesn't it?”

"It's an art form at this point."

He nodded with a quiet laugh. “I was thinking you should take a few days off.”

I looked over at him, confused with part of the ugly little strain of fearful doubt Maddie had unearthed. “Why would you want that?”

“I’ve seen what your aunt does to you, Lena. She works you to the bone and then gets frustrated when you’re burnt out. I don’t want that to be the case here.” Howard shrugged and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Just think about it and let me know.”

“Thank you, Howard.”

*

Jake watched Howard give her a pat on the shoulder before she turned and retreated back into the kitchen, likely heading out for the night. He didn’t know why it bothered him, seeing the older man talk to her like she was more than a simple employee that he’d hired… like the two of them were friends, but it did. Jake poured Ari a drink and turned to watch the door, ignoring the chaos of everyone's chatter. 

He recalled for a brief moment finding Lena in the locker room after the owner, her aunt’s display in the kitchen. She didn’t notice him, though he didn't think she’d noticed anything judging by the way she sat on the couch with her head in her hands, mumbling words to herself while sounding out of breath. He didn’t judge her, after all, how many times had he been in a situation similar to that? When he’d told Simone about it she seemed concerned and had told him she’d take care of it like she always did. But what he hadn’t expected was for her to be angry about it, for her to feel betrayed by him.

“I know it seems like nothing to you, but that old boxing place means a lot. It’s more than gloves and punching bags and sweaty guys Jake, and I trusted you with that piece of me. You. Not Sasha or Ari or Heather. And sure as fuck, not Simone. YOU.” 

Though he hadn’t thought it was a big deal, certainly not something worth getting angry at him over, Jake was surprised that Lena had trusted him that much. All their interactions before had been minor. They flirted and skirted around the obvious attraction they shared, but there wasn’t anything he could think of that would make her trust him enough to share something like that with him. She’d trusted him, for whatever reason, and he’d fucked it up… like he always did.

Simone cleared her throat, carefully setting her wine glass down beside him. “Does that sound reasonable Jake?”

He sighed in response. “I don’t want to go.”

“Of course, you don’t,” she replied frustratedly. “But you will. I need you with me on this.”

“Fine.” He mumbled sliding her glass back to her. “But I’m not going to pretend like I’m happy about it.”

Simone rolled her eyes. “You never do.”

Lena passed behind her and made her way to sit beside Will, putting an odd distance between her, Sasha, and Ari, one he looked at with a curious gaze that made Simone turn her attention that way. She watched them for a while before looking back at him, that stern motherly look taking over her face in an instant. “Is something going on?”

He opened his mouth, instinctually ready to fill her in on everything he’d observed about the red-headed migraine, but then he remembered that angry, sad look she’d given him. “Friends don’t do that.”

Jake shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

Simone hummed, taking a sip of her wine. “You’ll tell me if there's anything you need help with, right?”

“Of course.”

"Do you really think you're the only ones that got dealt a shitty hand?" She’d flinched when he reached out to stop her. He hadn’t recognized it until later, but when he did Jake couldn’t shake the heavy nauseous feeling that settled in his stomach. Did she think he’d hit her? Or was she just on edge from her hot-headed interaction with the bikers? The front door opened and a tall figure slowly made his way through. Looks like he’d get his answer.

*

Will was a quick study, as I sat beside him showing him basic easy signs that would no doubt help speed our Sunday lessons along he adapted quickly. I was glad to help, god knew Prue would do the same if it were me. I heard the hostess calmly speak when the front door opened, it wasn’t until I heard her startled gasp and the continuation of heavy footsteps that I looked over. Malcolm shoved past her, wild eyes fixed on me as he huffed. “You think you can talk to me like that fuckin bitch?”

I couldn’t help but smirk a little. All day I’d wanted a distraction and what better than a good old-fashioned fight? “Still not over that?”

“Dom ain’t here to save your ass this time.”

“Funny, I was about to give you the same warning.” I stood, giving Will a reassuring pat when he tried to stand up and defend me. “Last chance to turn around and go home with some dignity left.”

He laughed, one that made my body tingle with anticipation. “Smug fuckin cunt. Let’s see if that attitude changes when you’re on the ground.”

I spread my arms. “Come on then, I’ll even give you the first hit.”

Malcolm took two large steps forward, winding his fist back. I was prepared to take the hit, I knew I could after the years of fighting I’d done, both in and out of the ring. What I wasn’t prepared for was the flash of leather that shoved me back as Jake took my place. The loud crack of Malcolm's fist meeting Jake’s jaw echoed all around the bar as he caught himself against the bar counter and let out a puff of air. Simone was beside him in the blink of an eye, checking on his face and scolding him quietly. 

Malcolm said nothing as he wound his fist up a second time, determined to land a hit on me. I moved back, letting his hard fly past my face before I grabbed his arm and punched up, breaking his nose in one clean hit. He staggered back with a startled cry as I pulled him back in by his arm, taking hold of his hand and twisting it to the side until I could feel the tendons and muscles tense beneath my hand. 

“Give me your phone.” He made a face, bloody lips pursed and poised to spew more of his bullshit. I twisted his hand harder. “Give. Me. Your. Phone.” Malcolm quickly dug through his pockets and pulled out the chunk of technology, holding it out to me with a desperate groan. I dialed Dom’s number and held the phone to my ear, patiently waiting as it rang once, twice. 

“Hello?”

“Dom,” I said looking down at the man I had on his knees. “I’ve got your guy at my work.”

“Which one?” He sighed.

“Malcolm.” I tilted my head. “He apparently wasn’t done with our conversation.”

A quiet curse echoed over the speaker. “I’m assuming he’s cooperating now?”

Smiling and nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s being a very good boy now that I’ve got him leashed.”

“Don’t break anything else,” Dom replied, the jingling of keys echoing in my ears. “I’m on my way.”

I hung the phone up and carefully slid it back into his pocket, letting go of his wrist and nodding toward the door. “Go wait on the curb, Dom will be here soon.”

He hesitated for a minute but followed the order quickly after that. Once the front door closed everyone erupted into questions and cheers of impressed praise. Sasha handed me a drink and smirked. “To the Tiger Bitch and her mighty claws!”

For a second I looked through the crowd, hoping to catch some glimpse of Jake or Simone, but finding nothing but kitchen staff and the Russian's boisterous clothes. I drank my drink and stood around until the crowd cleared. Scott shook his head as he took another drink of his beer. “I’m fucking starving. Who's comin to dinner with me?”

“I am!” Ari cried, raising her hand like an overexcited schoolgirl.

Sasha nudged me. “Tiger Bitch and I are in too.”

Heather put her jacket on. “Should we ask Jake?”

“I’ll do it,” I offered, shrugging Sasha’s heavy arm off my shoulder and beginning my search with the bathrooms and the kitchen. 

Halfway up the steps, I could hear Simone’s frustrated tone echo down the stairwell. “Do you understand how reckless that was?!”

“It was one hit Simone,” Jake argued, muffled.

“One hit from a massive biker that could have easily killed you!”

Jake sighed. “Relax, you said it yourself I’m fine.”

She groaned. “That’s not the point! It was stupid and impulsive!” For a minute the two were silent before she spoke again, “Do you even understand what could have happened?”

“I’m sorry,” he finally relented. 

“One of these days I might not be there to make sure you’re not bleeding internally or concussed, what are you going to do then?” Simone left him no time to respond, “Think it through next time.”

I moved back down the stairs to avoid being seen by her as she passed by before quietly making my way up and to the door. Jake leaned against the back of the couch with a sigh, pressing the bag of frozen meat or vegetables to the side of his face. Though he was half obstructed by the bag, I could see the tense features of his face as he no doubt mulled over Simone’s words. Oz was right, he did look lost.

"You took that hit for me," I said, kicking the old rug.

"Yeah I did," Jake answered, looking up at me with a wince.

I motioned him to sit forward with my fingers. "Let me see."

Leaning over to look at the swollen and red mark that spread across his jaw I chose to ignore the way he not so subtly looked down at my chest before asking, "How bad is it?"

"Oh, you'll be hideously deformed from now on." I teased in answer, smoothing a thumb over the angry skin. "You do know I could have taken care of it myself right?"

He nodded with a light breathy laugh. "Yeah, I got a pretty good look at just how well you handled that dick. But I figured I'd be a pretty shitty friend if I just stood by and let some asshole punch you, or try to."

I stood back up and flopped down next to him on the old couch. "Thanks."

"So, what prize do I get?"

"Prize?" I asked with a loud laugh. "Why would you get a prize?"

"For being such a great friend." He gave me a gleaming look. "Obviously."

I nodded, picking up on his sneaky attitude. "Uh-huh, well, what do you want?" 

"A kiss." There it is.

"Most friends don't kiss." 

"I'll be a special friend then."

Rolling my eyes I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "There."

"That's a way off from where I wanted it." He complained.

"Oh, terribly sorry, my friend, next time you'll have to be a bit more specific." I mocked.

Jake's eyes lit up. "Next time?"

He's relentless! "I mean if you keep taking punches for me I'll have to up the reward eventually."

He hummed. "Mmm, well I hope there are other ways to win prizes. Don't get me wrong, I like getting hit as much as the next guy but I gotta keep this money maker presentable, you know, for the guests."

"Ahh yes, the guests."

"This mean you forgive me?"

"I dunno, are you gonna quit being a gossip?"

He chuckled but nodded. "I owe you an apology for that. I didn't think it was a big deal and, well, I'm just used to sharing everything with Simone that I didn't even think about it til you brought it up."

"So you're…" I led with a grin.

"I'm sorry, Lena."

“Apology accepted.” I smiled, standing up and holding a hand out to him. “Now come on, I owe you dinner.”

*

“You’re it,” I whispered back, lightly slapping Jake’s arm as we walked side by side. 

Jake waited for a moment before he returned the gesture. “You’re it.”

“How's your face?” Ari asked Jake as she glanced back at us over her shoulder. 

“It’s fine,” he replied. 

She laughed. “No permanent damage to that sexy smolder?”

“Fuck off.”

The small Chinese restaurant was a nice place. Small, but open enough that no one was back to back with each other while trying to eat. It was weird seeing Scott so relaxed, especially after working closely with him in the kitchen. Every bite he took was appreciative as he savored the food he shoveled into his mouth. “God this place is the best.” He slid a pepper toward Sasha. “Try this.”

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that again!” The Russian replied practically tossing the small pepper across the room. “Sadist.”

Ari groaned. “New topic! You guys are being so boring!”

“What do you want to talk about then?” Heather asked with a roll of her eyes.

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” Ari asked, giggling quietly. “I got some three weeks ago.”

Heather shook her head. “I’m not answering that.”

Sasha rolled his eyes. “Two months.”

Scott barely looked up from his food. “I’m going on four.”

“Seven, give or take,” Jake said, eyeing me from across the table.

“Seven?!” Sasha gasped. “That’s longer than you’ve ever gone without! My poor little Jakey, are you having trouble with the ladies?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Just one.”

All eyes were on me now as I scoffed and took a drink. “My condolences, it must be a very difficult time for you.”

“Spill it Red,” Scott nudged me. “How long since you’ve had a good lay?”

“A year.”

Ari spit her drink out. “A YEAR?”

Sasha shook his head. “No wonder you are such a bitch!”

I laughed and leaned back in my seat. “God, you guys make it sound like it’s a death sentence.”

“I meaaaannnn-” Ari dragged out with wide eyes. “A year's a long time to go without a good fuck.”

“Eh,” I replied. “I was getting bored anyway.”

Jake’s eyes glistened beneath the light as he leaned forward. “You must’ve been with some pretty mediocre guys.”

“They were fine,” I insisted. “But after a while, the whole one-night stand bs gets kind of old.”

“Sounds like you’re just doing it wrong.”

“Sounds like I’ve just done it enough,” I argued.

Sasha chugged his drink and set it down loudly on the table. “Enough of your flirtatious banter!”

As the night dragged on and the group drank more and more the questions grew far more perverted until everyone finally decided it was time to head home. Jake joined me in my walk, as he had a few nights ago. “So, now that I’m your friend again do I get any more questions?”

I groaned. “Do you annoy all your friends with this question game or is it just me?”

“Just you,” he answered smugly.

“I must be so special!” I laughed before thinking about how many questions I was willing to answer. “I’ll give you four.”

“I had four the other day.”

“Yep,” I replied with a smirk. “It stays at four because you pissed me off.”

Jake shook his head. “That’s cruel.”

“I can make it less.”

He nudged me as we walked and sighed. “Four’s not so bad.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’ll start with something easy. Your favorite color is yellow. Why?”

I shrugged. “It was my dad's favorite color. He’d always buy me the brightest yellow flowers and notebooks, everything you could think of. After a while, it just kind of grew on me. What’s your favorite color?”

Jake smirked, pulling a strand of my hair. “Red.”

‘Uh-huh, sure it is!”

“Next question. Dogs or cats?”

I looked over at him with narrow eyes. “I like both, but prefer cats.”

Jake nodded, taking in my answer and then preparing another question. “So, I know you’re not a Glover, but you never told me why not.”

“I never earned it,” I said matter-of-factly. The answer was one that hurt somewhere deep inside me, but that was something I’d learned to live with.

“Earned it?”

“Glovers are hard workers with talent and determination!” I said mimicking Aunt Maddie’s voice. After laughing at the horrible-sounding impression I sighed. “The Glovers wanted me to prove I was worthy of the last name, and I never did.”

He watched me for a minute before scoffing. “Sound pretentious as hell.”

“It is.” Then he got quiet. Not the thoughtful quiet, but the hesitant kind, so I nudged his shoulder. “You’ve got one more question.”

“What made you trust me that night?”

I stopped walking for a minute and the two of us shared a look. “I don’t know. It… It just kind of seemed like you needed a place to sort some things out and that’s where I would usually go so I just… took you there.”

He nodded with a fraction of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “So you like me?”

“Goodnight jerk.” I walked toward my apartment with a grin.

“Goodnight Lana.”

*

I knocked on the door and sang, “Knock, knock big brother!”

Peter was standing up by the window when I walked in, smiling and gesturing to himself. “Pretty impressive right?”

“Yeah!” I replied. “How long have you been out of bed?”

“Three or four hours now.” He smiled even wider. “Doc says I should be able to go home next week if things keep looking good.”

Some tension lifted off my shoulders as I embraced my brother. “That’s great Pete! I’ll tell Patrick to clean all the porn out of your room.”

He groaned. “Please tell me your joking.”

“Of course, I am,” I replied. “Patrick would never store his porn in your room. Oz would kill him.”

Peter chuckled at my jokes and sat down on the bed, muting the tv. “What have you got going on today?”

“The usual. Though I am teaching a coworker sign language so he can talk up Prue.”

“That’ll be fun,” he replied. “Though make sure once they get to the hot and heavy portion of things you’re far from it. Prue is…”

“Loud,” I finished laughing. “I know.”

Peter leaned back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, Ozzy stopped by with a few interesting stories about a friend of yours.”

“Oh?”

“I think he said his name was Jake.”

I groaned loudly. “God I fucking hate it when you two talk to each other.”

He nudged me. “Spill it.”

“He’s just a friend. A stupid friend that’s kind of stupidly handsome.”

Peter wiggled his eyebrows and made a childish cooing sound. “That is your type. So, when do I get to meet him?”

I hummed tapping my finger on my lips. “Let’s see uhhhhhh, never.”

“Awww come on Lee I wanna meet your bad boy!”

“He’s not my anything,” I corrected. “And him meeting you would most likely result in the whole restaurant finding out about you and I don’t want to do the whole pity party just yet.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “At least tell Patrick to give him the scary big brother talk?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll call him later.”

“Don’t.”

“You can’t stop me.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m glad you’re feeling better big brother.”

Peter smiled, wrapping an arm around me. “Me too little sis.”

*

The security guards greeted me at the door with smiles as I walked by, shrugging off my jacket and hanging it up under the hook that had my name above it. Quinn and Prue were standing by the bar as I made my way toward them to get to work.

“How’s Pete doing?” Quinn asked, still counting the money she’d made from the strip club as I helped serve drinks behind the bar before the big rush of people arrived.

“Better.” I wiped down the table one last time and smiled. “They’re thinking he’ll be able to come home next week.”

“That’s great!” She smiled. “You guys have anything big planned?”

“Not yet, but you know Oz. He’ll want to throw some kind of party.”

“Lena,” Ozzy called from his office. “Come here.”

I set my glasses down. “Speak of the devil.”

“He’s probably gonna chew your ass out over that fight the other night,” Prue warned.

“He knows about that?” I asked

“Yup.”

“Fuck.” I closed the door behind me and turned to face him. “Guessing you heard about the little fight?”

He nodded, folding his arms across his chest. “Of course I did. Dom knows better than to try and hide something like that from me.”

I flopped down into the chair. “It wasn’t a big deal Oz. I had the whole thing under control.”

"I know you can throw a mean right hook and talk shit with the best of 'em, but you ain't invincible. You gotta be more careful or you're gonna get wheeled outta here on a gurney." He shook his head. “That what you want? To be back in the hospital?”

“No.”

“It’s not what any of us wants. So please, for my sanity, no more fights.”

I crossed my heart. “No more, I promise.”

“Get outta here.” He sighed. “Tomorrow we’ll start planning your brother's surprise party. Be here at ten and don’t be late!”

“Aye aye, Captain Oz!” I said, sliding out the door and hopping back on the bar.

Quinn reached over the bar and tapped my arm, gesturing up toward the stage where Ari’s band was performing. “That girl that’s been hanging around for a minute, is she single?”

I nodded, with a knowing grin. “I think she is.”

“She interested in girls?”

“I believe so.”

Quinn wiggled her eyebrows and started making her way toward the front of the crowd. “Say less, see you later!”

Jake arrived late that night, sliding up to the bar silently and watching Ari perform for a minute before catching my attention and nodding toward the back door. “Wanna come smoke with me?”

“I’ll make sure you don’t get your ass kicked,” I assured him.

“Tough guy!” Dom shouted the second Jake stepped out the door. He made his way down the alley toward us, holding his hands up. “Relax, I just wanted to say sorry for my boy's reckless behavior.”

Jake shrugged, tense but not aggravated. “It wasn’t a problem.”

Dom nodded. “So I heard. You took a hit for my girl?”

I rolled my eyes at his old nickname, but Jake just nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe you ain’t too bad after all then.” Dom gave me a smile. “Thanks for teaching my boy a lesson Leanin Lena.”

“Anytime Dom,” I replied bumping the gym door open. “Just try to do it yourself next time. I’d hate to have your bikers vote you out.”

He flipped me off before turning and walking back down the alley. Jake followed me into the gym but this time he took his time to look around. Patrick was in the ring, helping one of the new guys practice his form when Jake stopped and nodded to a picture. “This you?”

I nodded, standing beside him to admire the old photo of me and dad after I won my first match. “And my dad. He was my coach too.”

“He looks proud.”

“I like to think he was proud of me a lot,” I answered. “But, who knows?”

Jake quietly made his way out the back door and flopped down on the couch in the alley, lighting his cigarette and sighing out the smoke. “How’d he die?”

“Heart condition,” I answered sitting down next to him. “One minute he was fine and then he wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

I shook my head and smiled at him. “What about your parents?”

Jake made a face and took a long drag of his cigarette. “Didn’t know my dad. Pretty sure he ditched before I was even born.”

“I’m sorry.”

He only shrugged. “That’s life.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

“It’s got its moments,” he replied with a smirk. “So, a year?”

“God are we really gonna do this again?”

He laughed. “I’m just surprised. Here I was thinking you were this seductress that lured men from the dark corners of bars and had her way with them.”

I rolled my eyes at him and smiled. “If you would've met me a year ago that might’ve been the case, but not anymore.”

“Why not?” He asked that spark of genuine curiosity shining brightly in his smoke-clouded eyes. “What changed?”

“Nothing,” I answered. “That was the problem. It was just the same thing over and over and over again and like I said I got bored of it. I wanted something real.”

Jake thought about my answer for a moment before he said, “Real is a pretty tall order in this world.”

I nodded. “Yeah, but I’d rather wait for that than waste my time on meaningless bullshit.”

Once he put his cigarette out I showed Jake the gym properly. I pointed out dents and scuff marks from fights that got out of hand as well as explained the context behind every shitty picture of me that Jake found. Patrick didn’t say much to him but gave me a nod of approval that meant more than any words could. It was weirdly nice, seeing someone like Jake so taken by the history and the people of The Ring. So long had passed since the last time I’d shared this part of me with anyone and though Jake and I got off to a rough start I couldn’t help but think this boded well for both of us.

We walked back down to the bar, still laughing at the story of one of the pictures when I noticed everyone huddled over by the bar. No one was passing out drinks and the music was playing lower than usual. “What’s going on?” I asked, trying to peek over Dom’s shoulder.

Ozzy quietly held my jacket out to me, but it was wrong… the sleek black leather was scuffed and torn apart in places. The letters sewn onto the back were all nearly gone. “There was an incident.”

"That biker asshole apparently had a friend,” Quinn said quietly. “He fucked it up pretty good before any of us noticed. I’m sorry Lena."

Dom sighed. "He's getting an ass-kicking as we speak, but I figured you'd want it back… Well what's left of it, that is."

I couldn't breathe as my hands curled into the leather, now marred with cuts and torn apart. My fingers traced the now mostly gone letters and I shook my head. This was all I'd had… All that was left of his things and now…

The soft beeps of the machines echoed in my ears as my head pulsed. Bright hazy lights consumed my vision before the soft feel of warm leather beneath my fingers soothed me. A large hand settled over mine as the light dimmed and my dad smiled at me. “Easy there sweetheart. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“Daddy?” My voice was weak and timid.

“I’m here.”

His leather jacket was draped over me on top of the shitty hospital blankets. I squeezed the sleeves of it for a minute before looking up at him and shakily saying, “You can have it back. I don’t need it.”

He shook his head. “Badasses wear the jacket. And today you’re far more badass than I am.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I… I was so scared.”

He took my head in his hands rubbing his thumbs over my wet cheeks and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I know, but it’s over now. I’ve got you, baby.”

*

Jake watched the color drain out of Lena's face as she gripped the leather jacket in a deathly tight hold. Tears swelled in her eyes the longer she looked down at it before she suddenly moved, setting it down on the bar and silently turning away toward the front door. Her friends all tried to call out to her, to get her attention and none of them succeeded. 

The music continued and the voices of everyone else partying around them didn’t stop when the bar fell silent. To Jake, it seemed like they were all waiting, but he didn’t know what anyone would be waiting for. When the roar of the engine shook the walls of the bar Jake watched as everyone winced. Ah, that’s what. Dom sighed and punched the bar. "God fucking damn it!"

He headed out the front door. The girl, Quinn, set her head in her hands and closed her eyes. The other one leaned on Will's shoulder, looking equally defeated. It was the bigger man, Ozzy that spoke. "Stubborn girl."

Dom returned, angrily lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag before looking up at Ozzy, who slid him a bottle of whiskey. "She better fill the fucking tank up this time Oz!"

"I'll reimburse you if she doesn't," he assured.

Sasha giggled. "Tiger Bitch stole a bike?"

The dealer shook his head. "Not the first time she's pulled shit like this. Won't be the last."

Ari whistled. "A bike thief, I never would have guessed it."

"There's a lot you wouldn't guess about her," Quinn said. "She'll be back though. She always comes back."

Jake stood, paying his tab quietly. "You leaving Jakey?"

"Yeah," he finally said. "Gotta pack."

"Back to The Cape?" Heather asked with a roll of her eyes.

He felt heavy when she said it but nodded. "Yup."

"Tell Blondie she won't be missed!" Sasha yelled as the trio giggled together.

He flipped them all off over his shoulder and left, his eyes gluing to the dark tire marks Lena had left when she'd sped off. He looked down the road they headed in for a minute before looking for a cab. Have a nice joy ride, red.

*

The bike roared to life beneath me as I peeled away, leaving the bar's bright lights, loud music, and Dom’s frustrated shouting far behind me. “LENA!”

I couldn’t stop now, not when the rush of wind felt so good against my skin, not when the sound of the engine and the strong vibrations of the bike drown out everything else. I felt free. It never lasted, and I was under no illusions that it would, but it would be enough to get me through the four-hour drive to where I was going. My first and only stop was at the old gas station on the edge of the city. I filled the tank up and grabbed the bag I’d stored behind the counter years ago before continuing until I reached my destination. Time meant nothing as I lost myself in the drive, the lights passing by, the sound of cars driving alongside me, and the soft glow of the sunrise.

Cape Cod was hauntingly beautiful as the sunrise lit up the water. And yet the beauty of it made me hate it all the more. The bike slid through the quiet streets with ease, making enough noise that I was sure everyone in the surrounding houses would be awake, but I didn’t care. I stopped the bike in front of the old house on the beachfront and stared up the steps at the blue front door.

"Come on little one! I don’t have all day!" Her tall blurred figure stood by the front door, waving me inside impatiently.

“Coming!” I hollered, hopping up the steps until I stood beside her.

She shook her head with a quiet scoff. “You need to be quick. I have important appointments that I can't be late for.”

“I’m sorry mother,” I mumbled.

Another groan. “Speak up, little one. You know I can’t understand you when you mumble.”

I straightened my back. “I’m sorry mother. I’ll be quicker next time.”

I quietly walked up the steps and through the front door. Everything had a thin layer of dust on top of it, the furniture was covered in old sheets… It was all exactly the same as I’d left it last time, save the objects that had been replaced. The air was old and stale with that familiar gut-punching hint of sea salt that I hated so much. I dropped my bag on the floor beside the stairs and picked up the new picture frame with the same old photo of her and me on the docks.

With a deep breath, I grit my teeth and slammed the picture onto the floor, crunching the glass thoroughly beneath my foot. The sound of the waves crashing against the not-so-distant shore echoed through the empty house adding a rather melodic ambiance as I destroyed the other picture frames. Glass shimmered in the orange of the rising sunlight as I sat on the ground, nursing the bottle of scotch from my bag. I lifted the drink to the only picture that remained, the only one she never bothered to replace even though the glass was cracked so badly the picture beneath wasn’t even visible. “It’s always so nice to visit you, mother.”

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade Character Spotlight (Lena part 2)

@roseobelisk heres the second collage I made for Lena using the model/artist I found on Pinterest/their Instagram page that I think looks most like how I see Lena in my head. Here's a link to her Instagram and her name is Angelina Michelle.