“Well, now you know how I feel every time you go off and leave me to wonder what happened to you,” she says, and fear makes her voice brittle. “I know you’re older than me, but I still worry about you, girl.”
Like, whoa. What the hell happened tonight?
“She goes off?” Weston asks, frowning. “And she’s older than you?”
Nate scowls into his drink. “Syd, we need to talk.”
Oh God. I don’t need this now. The boys think that whatever I did, I always had Gigi right by my side, every step of the way.
Ahem. Small misunderstanding. Not the place to solve it. I love that girl, but I’m not sure she always gets me—me, the crazy, desperate Sydney. I haven’t even set her right about my age yet. She thinks I’m twenty, when in fact she’s older than me by two years.
Which is so weird, because I do feel older than her. It reminds me of what Kash told me what feels like ages ago: “I feel old like the world.”
I direct the conversation back to Gigi and the guy she’s in love with, but she’s not saying much. Tonight’s a total bust, in every way.
Disheartened, I swallow my drink and ask for another. Might as well drown my sorrows, right? Drink and dance with my boys.
Could be lot worse than dancing with two hunks, even if they aren’t used to shaking those sexy asses. These boys sure can move. All those sparring sessions, running and a good sense of rhythm mean girls are staring their eyes out as they shake their booty around me.
Excusing myself to hit the bathrooms, I quickly sweep the area for the guy I’m looking for, ask a few people if he’s around, but it seems not.
Gigi doesn’t stay long. I don’t know how to help her, what to do. I hug her before she leaves.
“You know you can always talk to me,” I whisper in her ear. “Whatever you need, I’ll be there.”
“I know,” she whispers back. “It’s just… it’s nothing. I’ll call you tomorrow. Stay out of trouble.”
“Always,” I lie and walk her out of the club, wait until she climbs into a cab and goes.
Why am I not in that cab with her, heading home? Why haven’t I told the boys it’s time to pack it up and go to bed? Dancing with them was fun, but it’s getting really late, and the whole purpose of coming here tonight was to find that dealer.
I don’t want to admit to myself how disappointed I am at not finding him yet again. I’m going to give up. It cuts me up inside, the realization that I have to stop looking and hoping, that I’m putting the lives of the people I love in danger for the slim ridiculous scrap of hope that I might find out what happened to Kash.
God, I want him back. The Kash I knew. Not the Kash who left without a word.
Nate gestures at me from the bar where he and West have retreated. I join them, pick up his drink and take a sip.
Gah.
“So where do we start?” West asks, blue eyes transparent in the strobing lights of the club. I have to focus on his lips to make out the words, and I almost miss the girl waving at me from the other end of the bar, hypnotized.
Damn, West has nice lips.
And I feel bad to tell the boys the guy we’re looking for isn’t here, when they came ready to be my bodyguards. When I have just lost hope.
“Hey, Syd. Do you know that woman?” Nate elbows me, landing me back in the here and now. “Because she sure seems to know you. Unless that’s her dancing style?”
I turn and focus on the woman who’s gesturing at me to join her. I asked her about this pusher in the past and she didn’t know him, so what’s up with her now?
“Come on, guys.” I straighten and start in her direction. “Let’s see what she wants and head home. I’d rather go to bed with you than linger here.”
“Amen,” West mutters and it makes me smile.
The woman is taller than me, not that it’s difficult, and her short hair is bleached almost white. She’s dressed in leather pants and a top with cleavage so deep it reaches her bellybutton. She eyes my boys with interest, licks her lips.
Okay, now I want to throat-punch her.
“Did you want to tell me something?” I ask, and okay, I may sound as pissed as I feel.