In to Her

And then I end the call.

Because I have a job to do.

Chapter Thirty-Three – YVETTE

When I walk back into the bar AJ is just coming down the back stairs from the apartment. He’s dressed, but no shoes.

“My boots are still wet from clearing the snow,” he says, noticing my gaze down at his feet. “Any chance you’ve got a size twelve and a half shoe in your treasure chest of clothes?”

I smile at him. Because even though I shouldn’t trust him, or like him, or want him… I do. All three of those things. “No,” I say. “Chris wore an eleven.”

“Well, shit,” he says, walking towards me. “Guess I’ll have to make do.”

He opens his arms as he approaches and that fills me with a warm feeling. Something like acceptance. Or maybe gratitude. Or possibly just lust.

“Why are you smiling?” he asks, taking my hand and wrapping his arm around my waist like we’re about to dance.

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe because this time yesterday I was about to kill myself. I was thinking there was nothing left for me in this life.”

“And now?” he asks, twirling me a little. Like we really are dancing.

“And now… I guess I can see past it, ya know?” I sigh. “Depression sucks. Like… really sucks. Because I was so sure I was done. I woke up every day with this weight on my chest. Like I was suffocating. Or just dying of a broken heart. And then two hitmen walk into a bar—”

He laughs.

“—and one dazzles me with his charm and dancing. And the other one makes me feel like maybe there’s a way to get past this ache and loss. So…” I sigh. “I don’t know. I’m just gonna stay on the ride, I guess. Does any of this make sense?”

He nods. And both of us look over at the jukebox where the bottle of pills is still waiting. Right where Logan left them. “You wanna dance?” he asks, pulling me back into his embrace.

“I think we are dancing,” I say, gazing up at him.

“Yeah, but like… really dance.”

“OK,” I say.

He unwraps his arm from my waist and leads me over to the jukebox. “We gotta choose a song,” he says. “One last song on this jukebox, Yvette Nightingale. Better think hard about that.”

“Hmmm,” I say. “Maybe we can have two?”

“Or three,” Logan says.

Both AJ and I turn to look at him. And God, it hurts my heart a little to see him dressed up in Chris’s clothes. Makes me feel like a traitor for some reason. But if Chris were here, and AJ and Logan weren’t here to kill me, he’d have given them the shirt off his back. He was that kind of guy. He didn’t deserve the shit I brought with me when I came into his life.

Logan was right after all. I’m not innocent in this. I could’ve told Chris what he was getting into. Let him make a decisions based on facts. He might still be alive if I’d done that.

I probably wouldn’t be here right now. Don’t know where I’d be if Chris didn’t bring me home with him and his father after the baby was born. But at least I’d have a clear conscience.

“What’s the rush?” Logan asks. “I mean, shit. You have to pack, right, Yvette?”

Do I have to pack? Do I want to take things from this place? Since it wasn’t even mine to begin with?

“Are you and I gonna dance while she does that?” AJ asks. And for some reason it comes off like a challenge.

Are we gonna dance?

Meaning… are we gonna fight?

“No,” Logan says. “We’re not.”

“Good,” AJ says. “I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Likewise,” Logan says. Then he smiles and says, “So choose a song, Yvette. I think I’ll get us a drink. One last toast, huh? To the bar? To your life?”

“And one for the new life,” AJ says. “Coming up.”

Logan nods. “I guess everything comes in threes today.”

“Good thing too,” AJ says. “Because we come in threes as well.”

“What the hell is going on here?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” AJ says.

“You two are talking in some secret code.”

“Are we talking in code?” AJ asks Logan.

“Nope.”

AJ shrugs and smiles at me. “See? No code. Pick a song, Yvette.”

I look down at the song list. I know it by heart, don’t even have to look to find the number. Just punch in my code for free songs and the code for my choice. Then I look up at AJ and say, “Perfect Duet.”

He chuckles just a little, his smile wide and real. “Can’t go wrong with Sheeran and Beyoncé.” Then the song comes on and he takes my hand and leads me away to the middle of the floor, twirling me once, then bringing me back into his arms.

We settle like that. My face against his shoulder, my hands up around his neck. His hands on my hips as we sway.