Shane (Damage Control 4)

The benevolent demon and his sexy angel.

Cute.

Looks like we arrived in the middle of the ceremony, as the Justice of the Peace is droning about contracts and patience and paths in life. He’s a tall fellow, incongruously formal in his gray suit and golden-rimmed glasses.

And I’m not only talking of the couple. A quick glance around the room shows me that nobody else is formally dressed, and that takes my tension down a notch. Actually, after a second look, probably the most formally dressed people here are Cassie and myself.

Fucking figures. When you don’t fit in, you just don’t.

It makes me grin, though, forget about my troubles for a while, seeing that the small crowd is as colorful as they come. Dakota’s family, mostly, I assume, since Zane doesn’t have any relatives he knows of. Looks like they’re fans of the seventies. Lots of Indian skirts and batik blouses, long necklaces and huge earrings, hair dyed in all the colors of the rainbow, silver bracelets and leather bands.

Zane leans close to Dakota, whispers something in her ear that has her snickering. The Justice of the Peace shushes them and goes on to read some more boring stuff. After that, if memory serves, comes the cheesy part with the love-ever-lasting oaths and the best man’s speech—that would be Rafe.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m fucking happy for Zane and his girl. If anyone deserves a happily-ever-after, as cheesy and brilliant as it comes, is Zane and his friends. If I’m still standing, if I have any shred of sanity left, it’s thanks to him.

I’m just not in the right frame of mind right now, even though Cassie is standing beside me, even though to all appearances she is with me, something I never could have dreamed back in summer, at Asher’s wedding.

My attention wanders again when the couple is invited to sign the contract and polite applause breaks out.

Can’t see Seth and Manon. I hope they’re somewhere around here.

Otherwise, as it turns out, not everyone in the room teleported from the seventies. After a moment, I pick out Zane’s friends—Asher with his son in his arms and Audrey by his side, Tyler alone, behind them Dylan with Tessa and Rafe with his arms around Megan. Then my group: Ocean and Jesse with Amber, Micah with Evangeline, their clothes more somber.

Huh. Maybe I don’t stick out so fucking much after all.

And that, right there, is my mistake. Clothes aren’t gonna make a difference. I’m going crazy, I lost my job, I can’t take a goddamn shower without being reduced to a fucking mess, and here I am, at a wedding reception, pretending to be like everybody else, to belong in a group.

Pretending to be good enough to hold Cassie’s hand in public.

Gently I disentangle my fingers from hers, mutter an excuse about having to take a leak, and get the hell out of there.

***

Don’t give in. You’re okay.

I slam my hand into the wall by the sink in the bathroom I discovered down the hall and press my forehead to the smooth surface.

Too much. I’ve tried to keep my calm, keep my cool, not freak out, but it’s all coming back, the fears and worries driving into me like shards of glass, jagged and sharp.

Do I have enough for my rent this month? Can I afford my apartment until I find another job? What kind of job can I do if not construction? What if I have more flashbacks and lose that one, too?

What if Cassie leaves me? What if she’s fed up of dealing with my shit? Hell, I wouldn’t blame her.

Fuck, fuck. I slam my fist again, my knuckles burning. I welcome the pain. My hand drifts to my throat, finds the pendant, clutches at it.

Breathe, Shane. Fight it.

One hand on the wall, I focus on the c

ool surface under my palm—the sharp points of the pendant in the other.

Okay. Okay. It’s okay.

But it fucking ain’t. Where the fuck is Seth?

I turn toward the door, determined to find him, lay down my cards, and ask for help for the first time since we left the streets. Not that he hasn’t offered before, but I thought I was getting better, and he had problems of his own. Now, though… Now I’ll take the help.

“Shane?” The door swings open, showing me not Seth but Cassie. “There you are. The ceremony’s over. I thought…” She falls quiet, staring at me.