by Linda Kage
I told him, not that he knew that was what I was doing. He just kept begging, kept trying to coax me to stay, which only made me feel worse for every lie I’d ever told him and made me more determined to flee.
Wiping back tears, I finally stopped at the door and glanced back. He blinked as if stunned to see me crying. Then he whispered my name…the wrong name, and I blurted, “I’m so very sorry, but I have to do this,” in Spanish before I heaved myself into the stairwell and sprinted up the steps.
Once outside in the cool day, I jogged to my car, blocks away, where I’d left it the day before. Tears blurred my vision as I started the engine, but I kept going anyway. I made it all the way home before I realized—shit—I couldn’t just leave him handcuffed to his bed.
So I dug my phone from my purse and called him. I knew he wouldn’t be able to answer, but I figured “Sticks” could try getting hold of him, and then drop by his apartment to check on him, make sure his dad hadn’t killed him or something.
And fuck, now that I was thinking about his dad, I cursed myself. What the hell had I been thinking to trap him to one spot when his psycho father was still on the loose? What if his old man found him like that, and hurt him? I had left his apartment completely unlocked.
I was about to hang up and rush into my room to change into my Sticks gear when Asher actually answered, surprising the hell out of me.
“Hey, man,” he answered, sounding breathless and yet casual, as if he wasn’t trapped naked to his own bed. “What’s up?”
Okay, so maybe he’d gotten loose already.
“Not much.” My voice sounded stiff to my own ears. I wasn’t sure how I was doing this, why I was still playing this off as two different people. I just wanted to end the charade, and yet the consequences of my actions remained too big for me to face. He was going to hate me so much.
“I…” I had to pause and clear my throat. “I was starving and thought pizza sounded good for lunch. Want to come with?”
“Sure,” he answered, still mentioning nothing of his predicament, but I knew he was going to have to tell me…soon…if he was still trapped, anyway.
“Cool,” I said. “I’ll swing by and pick you up in a bit, then.”
“Sounds good. But, uh, quick question first.”
Great. Here it came. “Okay,” I murmured, bracing for his take on what had just happened.
But after a small hesitation, all he said was, “You don’t happen to have…handcuff keys, do you?”
“Um…” Damn, I wasn’t ready for that question, and it was probably the most logical one for him to ask. But I didn’t have the keys. I didn’t even know where they could be.
“Never mind,” he said suddenly. “I know I have some here. Somewhere. Could you just…come over and give me a hand?”
“Of course. I’ll be there in less than twenty.”
I hung up on him before he could say anything. And I made it back to his place within fifteen minutes, my mask, fake torso, and man panties firmly in place.
When I parked in front of his apartment entrance, I cursed myself again for leaving his door unlocked in my escape. His father could’ve just moseyed right on in and hurt him. A little scared his dad had beaten me here, I rushed to the door and immediately called, “Asher?”
“Down here.”
Relief sagged my shoulders and I took the steps two at a time. He’d managed to use his legs to cover his lap with sheets, but I’d forgotten just how very exposed I’d left him.
But…holy damn. The boy was pure art. My mouth watered as I remembered everything we’d done together on that bed.
Except the wary way he watched me and the blush climbing his cheeks because he couldn’t conceal more of himself from his gay friend shoved me back to reality.
He opened his mouth, probably to explain, but I held up a hand. “I’m not even going to ask.”
The air rushed from his lungs before he gratefully murmured, “Thank you.”
I nodded. “The only question I have is, where do you think the key is?”
“Fuck, I’m not sure,” he muttered, sounding pissed at himself. “But it’s got to be somewhere around that gift bag on the table.”
I hurried to the bag that had tipped onto its side and had crinkled tissue paper spilling out the top. After burrowing through the mess, I found the box the cuffs had come in and, yes, success! Two little keys were still inside.
I tipped the box so they slid out into my palm. “Found them!”
“Thank God,” he moaned as I turned toward him. But when I started toward him, this leery look crossed his features. His eyes were no longer full of trust and warmth.
It was the sharp slap of reality I needed.
“I’ll only be a second,” I promised as I hurriedly knelt on the mattress next to his upstretched arms and popped the key into the lock. After a small turn and click, he was free and yanking his arms down, grabbing more sheets to cover himself as he scooted away from me.
I backed off the bed to give him room. Then I watched as he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing before he rubbed his wrists. When I realized the skin was chaffed raw, I lurched forward.
“¡Oh, Dios mío! You’re hurt.”
But he held up a hand, warding me off. “I’m fine,” he snapped.
He so wasn’t fine. He looked defeated and lost.
“So…?” I asked, not sure what he wanted me to do now. Not sure what I should do. I jiggled my leg, trying to calm myself and failing.
He sighed and shook his head, not making eye contact. “So you were right. I shouldn’t have gotten tangled up with your cousin Elisa.”
My mouth fell open. I didn’t think he’d confess that to me, and for a startled moment, I didn’t know what to say. Then he lifted his face; he looked so guilty and apologetic, my own guilt and need to say sorry rose in my throat.
I shrugged one shoulder. “Well…I guess now you know.”
And maybe now he’d stay away from “Elisa” for good, though the very idea made me want to weep inside.
He shook his head, frowning. “Is that all you have to say?”
I glanced at him, not sure what else I could say, unless I blurted out some big long confession. Which, of course, I didn’t do.
He shook his head, obviously confused. “Aren’t you pissed I went behind your back and hooked up with her anyway?”
Blowing out a long, tired breath, I shook my head. “No,” I said honestly. I was actually very, very glad he’d hooked up with me, anyway. Our two nights together were going to be a few of the best memories I’d ever have. “I mean, like I said, you’re the one I was worried about from the beginning. If you wanted to go ahead after that and take your chances anyway, it’s…” Not sure how to say this or even if I should say anything, I mumbled, “Besides, I have a feeling you didn’t…instigate it.” When his eyebrows crinkled as if confused, I rolled out a hand. “I mean, I could picture you trying to stop and she just…pushed for more.”
He glanced away, refusing to talk about it. Honored that he hadn’t turned me into any kind of trashy locker room talk, even after what I’d just done to him, I glanced away too.
Mozart was still up in his cage, tipping his head to the side as he studied me. I wondered if he knew I was the same person from last night or not.
“If you don’t want to go eat now, that’s fine,” I said, hoping he’d decline. I needed a couple hours away from him to get my head back on straight.
But he said, “No. Let’s go. I need to get out of here for a couple hours.”
Guess he needed to clear his head as well. I wanted to ease his peace of mind more than I wanted to ease my own, so I drove him to the nearest pizza parlor because just then, I’d do anything for him.
We both ate quietly, lost in our own thoughts. He didn’t talk about what he was thinking or what he planned to do about “Elisa,” which I was grateful for.
When I dropped him back off at his place, he told me thanks before he climbed
out of the car. Then he called me a true friend.
I felt numb after that. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep secrets, couldn’t lie, couldn’t lead a double life. He needed to know, and he needed it more than I needed to keep it from him.
It was going to hurt when he pushed me out of his life, but I was just going to have to deal with it. I just really, really didn’t want to be there when he learned the truth, even though it would be best if he heard it from me.
Tomorrow, I promised myself. I’d call him in the morning, and I’d tell him everything.
I still felt wiped clean of energy and ready to crawl back into bed to hibernate for the rest of winter when I arrived at Forbidden that evening. I really wanted to skip my shift and find Elisa. I’d stopped by her workplace, but didn’t ask about her this time, not wanting to look like a total stalker. But that was the only place I knew to find her. I’d probably have to wait a couple days before going back again.
Damn it.
Yawning as I pushed through the front doors, I nodded a greeting to Harper and wondered if I could maybe play the brother card with Pick, take some time off just for tonight. But then I remembered Mason would already be absent. He’d buried his mother only two days ago, plus he had a younger sister to move into his apartment.
So, we were already shorthanded.
Bummed because nothing since the moment Elisa had crawled out of my bed this morning had gone my way, I yawned again.
“Hole-ee shit,” Ten exploded, popping in front of me, right in my face, so I had to jerk to a stop to keep from running into him. “Rock star finally got himself laid, huh? It’s about fucking time, my man.” He pounded on my shoulder in congratulations, making me scowl because I hated how he always freaking knew when I’d been with a woman.
I started to move around his annoying ass until he said, “I didn’t think you’d ever figure out little drummer chick was your Incubus shirt girl. Or wait, did she finally grow a pair and just fess up?”
Pausing, I blinked at him, trying to make sense of what the hell he’d just said. Finally, I shook my head. “What?”
“What?” Ten said right back as if confused by my confusion.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “I swear, you only make sense like five percent of the time. Why are you talking about Incubus shirt girl? And who the hell is little drummer chick?”
Ten’s eyes flared. “Aww, shit. You didn’t bang your drummer last night, did you?” Then he actually looked affronted as he demanded, “Just who the hell did you fuck?”
“None of your damn business,” I growled. “Now explain yourself.”
“Oh, you know.” Ten shrugged and started to move away. “It’s nothing. Just ignore me.” But I gripped a handful of his shirt and dragged him back.
“I don’t think so, fucker. Explain.”
He sighed and scrubbed his face. “Jesus, I can’t believe she’s still too chicken shit to just tell you.”
“Ten,” I warned.
“Okay, fine,” he grumbled. “It’s not like it can be kept a secret forever. That drummer in your band—”
I blinked, really confused now. “Remy? What about him?”
“Not him,” Ten said. “Her.”
I squinted, not getting it. “Huh?”
“Christ on a crutch.” Heaving out a disgusted breath, Ten shook his head and gazed up at the ceiling. Then he told me, “Your gay pal Remy isn’t actually a gay guy at all. In fact, he’s not even a guy. He’s really a she, with tits and all that other equipment chicks come with.”
I immediately opened my mouth to call bullshit, but the words didn’t come. My mind spun, remembering all the times I’d thought Remy had possessed a feminine way about him, all the times he’d encouraged me to “talk,” and Jesus, the moment he’d confessed to me that he wore a mask.
Holy shit.
All these strange little pieces started to align into place until it suddenly made sense. But I still wasn’t ready to completely commit to the idea. Remy couldn’t be a girl. He just…couldn’t.
Frowning, I was still trying to make sense of Ten’s declaration when he up and dropped another bomb on me. “And not only is she a she, but she’s also Incubus shirt girl, who you wrote that song about.”
That one made me shake my head, instantly denying it. But then I had to ask, “If…if Remy’s really a girl, what the hell makes you think she’s Incubus shirt girl?”
“Because the night she sang karaoke, she sang it on stage with her friend, Jodi. And I knew Jodi then, so I asked her about her friend for you directly after their little duet that night, but all Jodi would tell me was that her friend’s name was Remy.”
I kept waving my head back and forth because really, I didn’t even want to consider this. But had the redhead on stage with my Incubus shirt girl really been Jodi, Remy’s roommate? I guess it could’ve been. I hadn’t paid much attention to the redhead. Hell, I couldn’t even clearly remember what the girl I’d written the song about had looked like.
“…so when Remy, your drummer, showed up here with Jodi on her arm, I put two and two together and bam, figured it all out myself. And it helped that she admitted that’s who she was when I asked her, so ha! Pretty cleverly awesome, aren’t I?”
Awesome? Awesome wasn’t exactly the word I would’ve used. “You’re pretty fucking dead is what you are,” I growled right before I wound back my arm and jacked him in the face.
“Fuck,” he yelled at contact, clutching his eye and swinging away from me. “What the hell, man?”
“What the hell right back at you,” I roared, advancing on him so I could grab the front of his shirt and hit him again. But suddenly too many people were there, Quinn dragging me backward away from the bastard I wanted to kill and Noel helping Ten remain upright.
“How could you not tell me any of this months ago when you first learned her name?” I demanded, struggling against Quinn so I could get back to Ten. “You knew how long I looked for her. You knew how much I would’ve given just to know her name.”
Ten only sneered as he wiped his face and shook his head. “Yeah, well…payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
“What?” I had no clue what he was talking about.
“Caroline,” he hissed. “You knew what she was doing when she was sneaking into my room without me knowing it was her. And you said nothing to me. You just kept letting me unknowingly betray my best friend on earth. Well, fuck you. You got what you deserved.”
My mouth fell open as shock speared through me. I’d had no idea Ten held a grudge for that. All this time, I’d thought we were friends who teased, but now—
“What in God’s name is going on out here?” Pick rushed from the back hall, followed by Knox, who must’ve fetched him.
Pulling free of Quinn because I no longer felt the urge to pound Ten’s face in, I sniffed and motioned toward the bastard prodding at his red eye. “Ask him. He obviously knows more about what’s going on in my life than I do.”
“Ten?” Pick said, turning to him.
As Ten mumbled something in response, I wiped my hands over my mouth because I still couldn’t believe what I’d just learned.
I started to whirl away, but Pick caught my arm. “Hey. Where’re you going?”
I shook my head, not exactly sure myself. I just knew I needed answers, and only one person could give them to me. “I just… I gotta go.”
He nodded, too much understanding and concern in his eyes. “Okay. Whatever you need. Everything all right?”
“No,” I snarled and ran my hands through my hair. “I don’t know. I just gotta go. I need answers.”
Pick waved me off. I sent one last glance toward Ten, shocked and hurt I’d been so off about him all this time. Then I was gone.
I didn’t call Remy. I wasn’t sure if I could talk to him—her—right now and listen to him lie to me a second longer.
Instead, I rang Gally and coaxed Jodi’s number from him with the promise that I wouldn’t have sex wi
th her.
She answered on the second ring. “Hey, who’s this?”
I blew out a breath. “Hey, Jodi. It’s Asher. I just tried to get hold of Remy because I have some stuff to drop by for him, but he’s not answering. What’s your address again?”
“Um…oh… Well, Remy’s not here right now.”
“That’s okay,” I assured her. “I can just drop it by to you if you’re home, and you can give it to him when he gets there.”
“Oh! Well, sure.” She suddenly sounded relieved, and I narrowed my eyes because I knew she was lying to me. “In that case…” As she rattled her address off, I climbed onto my bike. “Thanks. Be there in a bit,” I told her before cutting the line and starting my ride.
I made it to Remy’s building in record time. After jogging up the stairs to her second-floor apartment, I drummed on the door until her roommate answered.
Jodi flashed me an uneasy smile as she poked only her head out into the hall. “Hey, sexy.” Then her eyebrows crinkled as she glanced at my empty arms where I had my hands buried in my pockets. “Uh…what did you have to drop off for Remy?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “I lied.” Then I slid a hand from the pocket to push on her door, letting her know I was coming in.
She didn’t try to stop me but stumbled backward, letting me barge right on in as she gaped at me with wide eyes. “Oh, um…what?”
“Is she really not here or did you lie about that too?” I asked.
Her mouth fell open. Then she whispered, “Shit. You know.”
“Yeah.” I nodded slowly, glancing around the place for signs that the drummer I’d come to know actually resided here. But it looked like a typical living room that anyone could live in.
So I strode to a nearby hallway and started for the first half opened door I saw.
“Um…whatcha doing?” Jodi asked, scurrying behind me and trying to keep pace.
I wasn’t sure. I’d never bulldozed my way into a woman’s apartment before and just started searching it. I was going at this blind, half of my conscience telling me to stop and behave, the other half needing answers.
The first doorway I peered into was a bathroom, a clearly feminine bathroom with hair products and jewelry and all kinds of girly shit splashed all over the counter, though I did spot the spray-on deodorant I’d borrowed from Remy when we’d stayed together in Chicago.