Better When It Hurts (Stripped 2)

My stomach lurches, and this time I can’t hold it in. I run for the bathroom again and barely manage to grasp the edge of the bowl before hurling inside. The towel falls down around my knees, and I’m naked, chest heaving, stomach clenching, staring into a swirl of stale liquor and my own acid.

My legs are shaky as I stand up and brush my teeth. It’s not a great start to my day—and it’s only going to get worse. Because I’ll have to find whoever that wallet belongs to and return it. There was a time I wouldn’t have done that. I would have actually used the cash and then tossed it. Or later, when I started to hate what I’d done, I would drop them in the same place I’d stolen them, hoping some good Samaritan would call the person up to come get it.

God, it had been so long since I’d stolen anything. Six months. I’d hoped it was over.

I couldn’t put it off any longer.

I approached the wallet like it was a snake—and it was, coiled to attack, teeth filled with venom. I knew exactly what had driven me to steal last night. I’d been so freaked out by that customer. And then Blue…

He’s wearing me down without even touching me. Without even hurting me.

Just knowing he’s there, biding his time, makes me clench.

I slide my forefinger into the fold and flip the wallet open. And there, staring up at me, is Blue. My heart pounds. He isn’t smiling. It looked more like a military ID than a driver’s license—he was intense, intimidating. Threatening.

Without meaning to, I take a step back. Away from the thing I stole. Away from him.

This is so much worse than I’d expected. If it had been some random guy on the street, I’d have to worry about how to find him. If it had been a customer at the club, I’d have to worry about whether Ivan would find out. But Blue? He was the worst of all. I knew exactly where to find him, and I suspected he wouldn’t tell Ivan.

No, he wouldn’t

want Ivan to know. Blue would rather punish me personally.

I’m already in enough trouble. Really I shouldn’t make this worse. But curiosity drags me back to the bed, back to the clues about a man I’d once loved, about a boy all grown up.

He has a couple hundred in cash. I never see him spend money at the club, not on drinks or on girls. Even though the bouncers are pretty good guys, they’ll take an opportunity for some fun when it happens. Not Blue.

I wonder what he does spend his money on.

My finger runs over the raised numbers on his credit card.

My phone rings, and I practically fall off the bed. My blood races. Christ, I have a guilty conscience. I shouldn’t be looking through this.

I find my phone on the bedside table, half expecting to see an unknown number on the caller ID. Half expecting that it will be Blue demanding his wallet back.

Instead Candy’s smile flashes on the screen.

Just her smile, because she took the picture on my phone and set it to show up when she called. All those pretty white teeth and everything else in darkness makes her look like the Cheshire cat, playful and smug.

“Hello?” I say, more breathless than I intended.

“Are you alive?” she asks.

“Barely. What was in that pill you gave me?”

“It’s better that you don’t know. I know you get weird about illegal shit.”

I groan. “You’re right, don’t tell me.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Wait.” I rub my forehead. “That’s all you called for?”

“Pretty much. If you ended up dead, Blue would never forgive me.”

It was like a fist around my throat, squeezing every time I heard his name. “Look, about him. Did something happen last night?”

She laughed, the sound both innocent and sexy. A neat trick, that. “You tell me. You’re the one who took him home.”