by Witt, L. A.
“I know; I needed to talk to Tabitha. She around?”
He nodded toward the back of the club. “In the office, last I checked.”
“Thanks.”
Tabby’s office was open, so I didn’t knock.
“Hey, you,” she said when I walked in. She must have just gotten here herself. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and she was still dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt, though by the time the club opened for the evening, she’d be all cleavage and sequins.
“Hey,” I said. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?”
“Sure, sure.”
“Sorry about the last few days.” I closed the door behind me. “I hope I didn’t leave you too far up Shit Creek.”
“It’s okay. I assumed something must have been going on.” She leaned forward and folded her hands on the blotter. Her eyebrows rose. “Everything all right?”
Taking a seat in the chair opposite her desk, I chewed my thumbnail and avoided her eyes. “Not really, no.”
“What’s going on?”
I gritted my teeth, fighting to keep myself together. If anyone in the world wouldn’t judge me for any of this, it was her, and with no reason to hold back, it was hard not to fall apart.
Concern widened her eyes. “Alex, baby, what’s wrong?”
I forced back that stubborn lump in my throat, then took a deep breath. “Remember how I told you my folks were pressuring me to get the implant?”
Tabitha sat up straighter. “Alex, you didn’t . . .”
“No, I didn’t.” I swallowed. “They did.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“They drugged me. Forced me to—”
Her fist slammed onto the desk with such force I nearly jumped out of my chair. “Those cock-sucking, Bible-thumping, self-righteous cunts.” Through clenched teeth, she said, “Tell me your folks are rotting in jail.”
“No, I haven’t filed a report yet. Against them or the surgeon.”
“And just why the fuck not?”
“I should, I know.” My mother’s unspoken threat pushed down on my shoulders. “But I’m afraid of putting my sister through hell.”
“Sounds like you’d be getting her out of hell.”
“Doubt it,” I muttered, recalling with a pang of sadness the way Candace wouldn’t even look at me at the diner. “They’ve got her brainwashed.”
“All the more reason to get her out. It’ll be difficult for her, there’s no doubt about that, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s for her own good?”
Tabby pursed her lips. “Yes, it really is for her own good. And, your parents aside, that surgeon needs to be in jail. That way he can’t do this to anyone else.”
“True.”
“If your folks have to go down with him, so be it. This is on their heads, not yours.” She leaned forward and gestured for me to put my hands on the desk. When I did, she clasped them between her own. “Alex, your sister may be upset with you for a while, and this will definitely be hard for her, but she’ll understand. Maybe not now, but eventually, she will understand why you did what you did.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’d be doing the right thing.” She exhaled sharply. “I assume you’re going to try to get the implant out?”
“As soon as humanly possible.”
She grimaced. “I hear the removal isn’t an easy procedure. And it’s a pricey one, too.”
“Great. And I have such a fantastic health plan when it isn’t an elective, socially repulsive surgery.”
“Well, maybe they’ll make your parents pay for it.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Tabby sighed and squeezed my hands. The fact that she didn’t argue with me or push the issue, insisting the courts would make my folks pay for the removal, didn’t make me feel much better.
“I have an appointment with the neurosurgeon tomorrow,” I said quietly. “We’ll see what he says.”
“Yeah, keep me posted.” She patted my hands, then let them go. “How are you feeling, by the way?”
“The first couple of days sucked.” I fidgeted at the memory of my hellish weekend. “But I’m okay now. Physically.”
“Do you need to take more time off?”
“I’m supposed to take it easy for a few nights, but I’d rather stay here.”
“You sure?”
“I can’t miss work. I need the money. That, and . . . I really need to be here right now, Tabby. And quite frankly, if I’m not working, I’ll be drinking.”
“You’re welcome to stay, of course.” A smile tugged at her lips. “Though I suppose you won’t be dancing on the bar tonight?”
I laughed. “I’m afraid not.”
“Well, damn,” she said. “Colin and Dale will just have to handle it.”
“Sorry,” I said, chuckling.
“Oh, we’ll manage.”
I dropped my gaze and didn’t speak.
“Something else on your mind?”
It was only when Tabby spoke that I realized how long it had been since the conversation had died. I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know what to do about my other job. I have to go back eventually.”
“Yes, I suppose that could be a challenge.”
“To say the least.” My shoulders dropped. “This morning I tried making myself up as a woman, just to see if I could pull it off.”
She cocked her head. “And?”
“Didn’t work so well. Made me feel worse, actually.”
“In what way?” she asked. “Because you didn’t look like yourself, or you couldn’t make yourself feminine enough?”
“A little of both.” I sighed. “It’s just, no matter what I did, every time I looked in the fucking mirror, all I saw was a man wearing makeup.”
“Oh?” Tabitha raised her chin slightly. She casually ran a scarlet nail up and down the front of her throat. When she paused emphatically on her Adam’s apple, I cringed.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Tab.” I ran my hand through my too-short hair. “I’m sorry. That’s . . . not what I meant.”
“I know, baby. Just putting things in perspective.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“You didn’t. And I know the fact that I’m static doesn’t make this any less frustrating for you.” She grinned. “Besides, do you see a man wearing makeup when you look at me?”
“No, definitely not.”
“Then I think we understand each other.” She winked and sat back a little. “Maybe I can help you with tweaking your appearance if it’s what you want.”
“Nah, hopefully this thing will be out soon anyway, but I don’t think any amount of makeup will make me look like my female self.”
Her smile fell. “Probably not. Though you’d make a beautiful woman as you are now.”
I laughed, heat rushing into my cheeks. “Thanks.”
“I’m serious. You could do it, easily.” She paused. “But I don’t know if we could dress you up as you.”
“How ironic,” I muttered. “I could probably pose as a dozen different women, just not myself.”
She grimaced. “Sorry, sweetie.”
“It’s okay. Hopefully it’ll be a moot point soon anyway.”
“True.” She smiled, but it faded, and her forehead creased. “Does Damon know yet?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “He knows.”
“He didn’t take it well?”
“It could’ve been worse.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
I shrugged. “Well, we had a bit of a fight this morning, but . . .”
“But?”
I explained everything to her, from the moment he showed up at my door the other night to him walking out this morning.
“It was probably just, you know, stress and lack of sleep on both our parts,” I said.
She tilted her head sli
ghtly. “I don’t suppose there was a visit from the Alex who likes to shut people out when he thinks they’re going to shut him out, was there?”
No point in lying. I was pretty sure the color in my cheeks gave me away anyway. “Yeah, maybe.”
She reached for my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Baby, that doesn’t help matters. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I do. And, I mean . . .” I paused, avoiding her eyes. “I’ll call him after I’m off tonight. We probably just need to talk things over.”
“Probably. And it does say a lot that he’s still around. Plenty of other men would’ve been long gone.”
“I know. Though I wonder if he just doesn’t want to ditch me while I’m still recovering.” Bitterness seeped into my tone. “Anyway, I’ll talk to him. I don’t know what’ll happen, but we’ll see.”
“Yeah,” she said without that note of optimism I so desperately needed to hear, “we’ll see.”
I cleared my throat. “You mind if I clock in early?”
“Not at all. Just take it easy, would you?”
“I will. Thanks, Tab.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Now come here.” She stood and came around the desk, and when I stood, she hugged me. I closed my eyes, trying not to lose it. I never knew how much I needed human affection until I’d been at everyone’s arm’s length for a while, and now that she had her arms around me, it was all I could do not to break down and cry.
“This is going to be a bumpy ride,” she said softly, stroking my hair. “But you will get through it, baby. And you know I’m always here if you need me.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She released me, but kept her hands on my shoulders. “Sure you want to work tonight?”
I sniffed, then smiled. “Yeah. Nothing like making you some money to take my mind off things.”
“That’s the spirit.” She flashed a huge grin. “Now get out there and make me rich.”
I saluted her, and she smacked my arm. In a somewhat better mood than before, I left her office and clocked in.
Even if I couldn’t be comfortable in my own skin, at least I was comfortable in this crowd. It’d be better if it were busier, though. Late at night, I’d be shaking martinis, pouring tequila shots, opening beers, lighting Bacardi 151 and dropping it in Guinness for some Depth Charges, cleaning glasses and the bar top and more glasses. On the other hand, that was probably more than I should’ve been doing with the lingering twinge in my back. This early in the day, though, more chairs were empty than not.
When the door opened, sunlight poured in, backlighting the newcomer and making me squint. Once the door closed, severing the light and returning the bar to its usual dimness, the bottle of Triple Sec in my hand nearly tumbled to the bar.
Damon.
Our eyes met as he approached the bar. I focused on pouring my customer’s drink. Once I was done, I moved to the barstool Damon had taken.
“Hey,” he said.
I moistened my lips. “Hey.”
He swallowed hard. “Listen, can we talk? About, um, about everything?”
“Yeah, I . . .” I glanced to one side and caught Tabby’s eye. She nodded and gestured toward the door. I turned back to Damon. “I’ll get my jacket.”
After he’d clocked off and grabbed his jacket, Alex and I walked down the block to a restaurant we’d visited a million times in our past life. Neither of us spoke on the way down the sidewalk.
The hostess was familiar with me, and she smiled when we came in. “Just one?”
I gestured at Alex. “No, two.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, a hint of confusion registering in her expression as she looked at him, then me, then him again. It occurred to me that Alex and his coworkers came here a lot, too. We were both regulars, she knew our names, but she’d never seen us together. Well, not that she knew of, anyway.
But she didn’t say anything about it.
“Right this way.” She showed us to a booth by the window, took our drink orders, and left us to our silence. We both focused on perusing the menu, as if we hadn’t memorized it eons ago, until she came back with our coffee.
Stirring some cream into mine, I finally spoke. “How are you feeling?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been better, but I’m not as bad off as I was the other night.”
“That’s good to hear.” I stared into my coffee, unsure what else to say.
This time it was Alex who broke the silence. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in, and I’m sorry. About what I said this morning.”
“It’s okay. I should have been more patient. You have a lot to deal with.”
“Okay, instead of arguing about who’s sorrier like we always do,” he said with a hint of a grin, “why don’t we just agree to forget this morning happened?”
I laughed. “Deal.” I had no idea how many squabbles we’d resolved this way. Squabbles were one thing, though. We still had plenty of other things to iron out, and hell if I knew where to start. “I’ll be honest, Alex, I don’t know how I feel. About any of this.”
“I don’t expect you to. It’s . . . a lot.” He rested an elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead with two fingers. “And if you’re thinking you don’t know how to handle a relationship, or you’re barely keeping yourself from running for the hills, I understand that, too.”
“I haven’t run yet, have I?”
He looked at me. “You’re a straight guy, Damon. As of two days ago, surprise! I’m a man. I’d be stupid to expect you to act like nothing’s changed because of that.”
I dropped my gaze. What could I say? After a moment, I met his eyes again. “So what do we do?”
Alex shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, presumably this isn’t a permanent situation. Me being static, anyway. Once I get the implant out, I suppose we can play things by ear.” He paused. “If you’re . . . still okay with, you know, us.”
“Playing by ear sounds good.”
“And once the implant’s out, at least I can be female again. Thank God.”
“Is it . . .”
He raised his eyebrows. “Hmm?”
I took a deep breath. “Forgive my ignorance here, okay? I’ve talked to a few shifters, but I’ve never really . . . asked about it.”
“Go ahead and ask. At this point, I think you’re entitled to some answers.”
Fidgeting a little, I searched for the words, hoping I could ask without sounding like the idiot I was. “So, do you just shift on a whim? Or, what?” Of course Jordan had answered that for me, but it was the only way I could think of to get the conversation rolling.
“Not on a whim, no.” He folded his arms on the table. “Some days, I feel a hundred percent female. Through and through. Other days, male. And sometimes, I’m somewhere in the middle.”
“What do you do then? When you’re in the middle?”
Alex watched his finger trace a path around the rim of his coffee cup. “Sometimes I’ll be in female form but dress kind of, I don’t know, tomboyish. I don’t usually go the man-dressed-feminine route.”
“Why not?”
His cheeks colored slightly. “I’m more self-conscious that way. Feels more . . . conspicuous.”
“How so?”
“Well, what stands out more to you? A woman in jeans and a baseball cap, or a man in a skirt?”
“Good point.”
He sighed. “Social conditioning sucks, but . . . it is what it is. People are less willing to accept a feminine man than a masculine woman. It’s hard to break that habit, I guess. Shoehorning myself into cultural standards.”
“I never really thought about it, to be honest.”
“Most statics don’t. There’s no reason to.” He paused. “At least I can shift. Well, could. Tabitha, some of the other people at work, they’d chew off their own arm to be able to shift. They have to make do with whatever artificial alterations they can manage. Some get surgery, some don’t. Tabitha won’t get any of the surgeries u
ntil they’re safer and more effective, not to mention less expensive. She has to make do with hormones and things like that.” Alex looked out the window, but I doubted he focused on anything. “I feel like an ass complaining that I can’t shift anymore when there are people who’d sell their souls to be a shifter even for a day.”
“Yeah, but sometimes it’s harder to deal with losing something than never having it.”
“True.” Our eyes met, and something tightened in my chest.
I cleared my throat. “Right now, since you can’t shift, do you . . . I’m not sure how to word this. Do you feel more male or female?”
“I don’t know.” He absently wrapped both his hands around his coffee cup like she often did, clinging to it as if to ward off some chill I couldn’t feel. “Part of me is itching for my female form. Part of me is okay with male.” He let out a long breath. “On the one hand, I’m dying to be what I can’t be right now. On the other, I’m just glad the implant didn’t fuck me up. Quite honestly, I’d leave in the implant and cut off my own balls if it meant never having another headache like that.”
I blinked.
Alex tilted his head. “What?”
Muffling a cough, I went for my coffee. “Sorry. What you said, it sort of . . .”
His brow furrowed. Then he chuckled. “The part about cutting off my balls?”
“Yes. That.” I laughed, my cheeks as hot as my coffee. “Guess that’s another part, so to speak, that I hadn’t thought about. Never really thought about how much actually shifted.”
He laughed. “It all shifts, Damon. It’s seriously like having two different bodies. A friend of mine? She has twenty-twenty vision in female form, but wears contacts as a male.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded.
“So what happens if you have, like, cancer or something?”
“That usually crosses over, too.” He pursed his lips. “In fact, shifting seems to make tumors grow even faster. Something about the shift affects it on the cellular level, and . . . Hell, I don’t know how it works, but that’s what I’ve heard. Pity it isn’t the other way around, or they’d probably look to us for a possible cure, but since we’re doubly fucked, we’re of no use in that department.” He sipped his coffee. “Injuries, though, they’re pretty weird.”