Chapter 30
Varden
Thank god I’d been there to keep M from sinking her long and vicious claws into Saffi—who knew what that crazy witch could do.
My gut told me not to trust her. And my gut was nearly always right.
M turned to me after Saffi ran out the door, daggers in her eyes. “I needed to speak with her,” she spat, trying to see my eyes beyond the mask.
I placed a hand on her arm to calm her. “She has an early morning, like I told you.”
“I heard you.” She turned to walk away, but before she could, I grabbed her arm.
“What did you need to talk to her about so urgently? What couldn’t wait for another time?” I knew the answer but wanted her to say it.
“You know why I wanted to talk to her. I want to find out more about her. Figure out who she is, and why she’s coming here. Something about her is not on the up-and-up.”
“Would you relax? She comes here to get off, like everyone else does,” I lied. “And now, I hope she’s coming here to see me.”
“Thanks for doing your part to keep the club safe from the wrong people.”
She turned on her heel and left me standing there in the midst of the revelers.
Whoa.
My head was reeling and the mask was suddenly blistering hot—hotter than normal. It was all I could do to keep from tearing it off. An enthusiastic couple running for a private room slammed into me, leaving me teetering and careening into others. No one took notice as I fought to regain my balance.
When had the place become so crowded?
I struggled for long, deep breaths in the noisy overheated room and pushed for the door, ignoring greetings from other guests. Bursting into the cool, San Francisco night, I was relieved to find the street in front of the club empty and quiet. I ripped at my mask to gulp some fresh air and ran for my car.
I was done with that place for the night and since it was early yet, I called my brother to see if he wanted to go for a bite to eat.
On the short drive home I thought back to our younger days, before we could legally drink, when we’d go out for a beer at the local dive that wasn’t concerned about serving minors. Even back then, one or two brews would turn into ten or a dozen for Beau.
That was the beginning of the end for him, and his life hadn’t been the same since. For him, a beer once in a while turned into every night of the week, and several years on, I’d lost track of the number of times I’d put him in rehab, only to have him backslide.
And yet, I’d never give up on him. Never.
“Beau! Watcha doin?” I called as I came through the front door.
“Whattup, bro?” Beau asked as he met me. “I just finished an online meeting with my AA sponsor.”
The puffiness that had consumed his face just a few days earlier had subsided, and I could swear there was a lightness in his step that hadn’t been there in a long, long time.
“Wanna walk to that place around the corner?” I asked.
“Let’s do it.”
A few minutes later, we settled into a booth in the back corner of a neighborhood place and ordered from a pretty young waitress. I watched Beau’s gaze follow her as she walked away.
“So. You’re doing well. I’m proud of you.”
He nodded. “Thanks, man. I don’t know where I’d be with out you.”
Shaking his head, his gaze settled on the placemat before him.
The waitress dropped off two non-alcoholic beers. I hated them but always drank them with Beau. Brotherly solidarity and all that.
“So, Var. How are you? I see you working hard and going out. You meeting any nice girls?”
I sipped my fake beer. “You know me. I like to fly solo. But, there is this one woman I met not long ago. I’m kind of into her.”
“Yeah? Way to go. Keep up the good work.”
Yeah. She was proving to be some work, that was for sure. Her involvement in the club, and my involvement with her dad created a level of complication I usually ran from.
But not this time.