Shane (Damage Control 4)

Talk about a night of self-revelations.

And crap, I’m here without a car. Shifting from foot to foot, I look for a cab. I don’t want to be caught by Manon or Ev and dragged back inside.

What the heck did I just say to Jesse Lee and Amber? Jesus on a pogo stick. I was like a train wreck, spewing out whatever went through my head, and as we’ve already established, my thought process isn’t always to be trusted.

Jesse Lee is a case in point.

Oh God, did I just tell Amber I was trying to protect her from her boyfriend by kissing him? I mean, I did think that at the time, but it doesn’t necessarily mean either of them will appreciate the sentiment.

Plus I told Jesse Lee I thought he was a loser.

Someone please kill me. A hundred years on my knees doing penance won’t take the sting out of that one, will they?

Why can’t I control my big mouth? Why do I have to say whatever comes to my mind? Yes, it was the truth, and no, it doesn’t make it any better.

Ugh. At least since the kiss fiasco, I’ve grown better at controlling my impulses. Heck, I haven’t kissed anyone since then. Haven’t slept with anyone.

Jesus.

I bet Manon hasn’t realized and thinks I’m the same as I was, sampling boys, taking home a different guy every night.

But I haven’t. I can’t. What happened—how I misjudged things—was a shock to my system. Realizing not everyone thinks like me, not everyone kisses for no real reason, that sex can’t fix everything, and then…

Shane.

I’d hoped he’d see me, that I’d get a reaction out of him—and he did see me. Only his reaction wasn’t what I expected. Not exactly sure what I’d expected, to be honest, but maybe something like anger. Jealousy. Some strong emotion that would finally tell me how he feels.

About me.

Stupid, I know. One more stupid thing on my list of stupid things. But yeah, he didn’t yell at me, or Jesse, didn’t stomp away to drown his sorrow in booze. He didn’t even blink. Didn’t change his attitude.

Except maybe he grew a little more distant. A little colder.

But maybe it’s all in my mind, because like I said, he didn’t shut me out like the others did, and anyway, he’s not the most open of people to begin with.

Yeah. Ha. Open. Not a word that would characterize Shane. And yet… Yet he’s always made me feel good, and safe, like it’s okay to be myself when I’m with him.

So it makes somehow perfect sense that instead of waiting for a cab to take me home, I start walking in the direction of Shane’s place, on my high heels, in my skimpy clothes with my long coat flapping around my legs, and the night closing around me.

No idea what I’ll do when I’m there, but at least for now I have a goal, where before I had nothing.

***

Shane’s apartment isn’t far from Halo. I’ve never been inside, but Seth pointed out the building to me once, when we were driving by. It’s easy to remember it because of the huge neon “Pizzeria d’Angelo” sign flashing up front.

Easy to remember despite the memories the name brings back. My older brother, Angel. My childhood, before the mess that followed. Before Angel left us. Before Dad left, too, unable to cope, and Mom started going out every night and staying out, not coming home before dawn, then stumbling through the door drunk, with her lipstick smeared and her clothes askew.

Old memories, vague and hazy, tinged with happiness, and then fear and sorrow. I loved my brother. He was my anchor and my best friend, until he left to join the Marines and returned a changed man. I was too young to understand then what he was going through, and now that I do, what difference does it make?

Shaking my head at the direction my thoughts are taking, I walk briskly past the pizzeria and reach the entrance of the building. The lit panel of the intercom winks at me, and I trail my finger down the names until I find it.

Shane Tucker.

A smile tugs on my lips as I press the buzzer. What will he say when I show up at his door? Will he smile back? Come to think of it, I can’t remember ever seeing him smiling outright. Grinning? Never.

Frowning a little at this realization, I lean into the buzzer, but nothing happens. No buz

zing me inside, no reply.