She scowls. “This is war, baby.”
I snicker. “Yeah, well I’m gonna win.”
She glares at me.
“And you’re gonna win, too.”
She looks away.
“Come over for dinner tomorrow. Baka insists. If you can walk, that is. You might be a little sore when I’m done with you.”
I set the cat on the couch and get up. She pounces and lands on Ally’s lap, then snuggles in.
Ally’s chin wobbles and she pets the cat, not looking at me.
I head to the kitchen counter, lift the bottle of wine I pulled out earlier, then reach into the cupboard for a glass for her. I’m having a beer. What I could really use is some whisky, but I haven’t got any here. I should take this to my place. Better bed. Stocked bar.
I turn back to her, ready to pour the wine and she’s not on the couch. The cat sits there with one back leg stretched up in the air as she licks it.
I crane my neck. Bathroom door is open.
I walk down the hall to Ally’s room and knock on the door.
Nothing.
I open it.
Empty.
Did she dip out on me?
20
Ally
I’ve snuck upstairs and been let in by Carly. I’m here and I don’t know why, but I just had to get out of there and this is where I found myself.
She’s having a dinner party, obviously, because Aiden and Austin are here as well as the guys’ sister Adele and her husband Dirk. But one look at me and the panic that’s likely all over my face and Carly immediately reads the situation and excuses us from the room.
We head down the hall toward her bedroom and she grabs the pocket doors to give us complete privacy.
“Can I come?” Aiden and Austin’s sister Adele shouts before the doors are completely closed.
I look back and advise, “Bring alcohol.”
Adele is hot on our heels with a wine bottle and a glass.
When Adele shuts the bedroom door, I thrust my hands into my hair.
“Sit. Talk to us,” Carly invites.
“Is Mr. C okay?” I ask.
“He’s good. We’re just decompressing with dinner and drinks. What’s up with you?”
“I have secrets,” I say, “Lots of them. Awful ones. A whole henhouse of them and all the bad chickens are about to come back home to roost or whatever that saying is. Where’s the booze?”
“Comin’ right up,” Adele says and pours me a glass of white wine from the nightstand.
“I need the other glasses,” Adele announces and turns but before she gets the door open, she adds, “Wait. Don’t start without me.”
“Tell them to do the dishes?” Carly tells her.
“Will do.”
“You okay?” she asks me.
We’re on her bed and I’m playing with the fringe on a throw pillow.
“No, I’m not.” I let out a big sigh. “I’m a mess. A big, fucking stupid mess.”
And now I’m crying.
Carly slips into her connected master bathroom and returns with a box of Kleenex. Passing it to me, her other hand lands on my back. She rubs it.
“You’re my best friend,” I tell her through tears.
“I know. Ditto, Ally. What’s goin’ on?”
Adele is back, wide-eyed. “What?” she asks.
“She’s a mess, a fucking mess. That’s all you missed.”
I dab at my eyes.
“I have secrets. Bad ones,” I finally say around a stuttered breath, trying to calm myself. “And I think I have to go now. But I want you to know that you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty friend.”
“Shut up, you’re not a shitty friend. And go where?”
“Far away where hopefully my past doesn’t catch up with me.”
I have a strong feeling that if I stay, it will. And it won’t be good.
“Huh?”
“I’ve done some stupid things, Carly. And some bad guys are after me.”
“I know you. You’re a good person. Whatever this is –” Carly starts.
I interrupt. “I can’t tell anyone anything because it’d put them in danger. He’s been making me crazy. Jude. Ignoring my efforts to be a bad roommate. I’ve been trying to channel Aiden here, eating Jude’s food, making a mess. I even glitter bombed his room and brought home a cat when he’s supposed to be allergic, but he just doesn’t care. I’m an immature jerk. I even saran wrapped the toilet. He cleans the messes, pets the cat, and then tonight he showed up while I was on a date with Bill the Boob Looker and I thought Jude was going to beat the crap out of him right there in Buchanan’s!”
“Whoa,” Adele says.
“That’s not even all of it,” I say. “But essentially, because of him, I have to go. The jig is up.”
Carly reaches for her own glass of wine and downs what’s left of it before speaking. “Okay, there’s a whole lot to unpack there, but first: you’re in danger? What sort of danger?”
“I can’t get into it. I don’t want to put anyone else in jeopardy. That’s why I probably have to move to Japan next week. Shit. I shouldn’t have said where. Forget I said Japan.”