Page 38 of Mating Theory
Tears are falling freely now. “I don’t know what to do about Ky. He’s so young and so reckless. Sometimes I think he wants to die.”
“If that’s what he wants, you can’t stop him.”
“Can’t I?” I turn pleading eyes to her, this woman who’s a stranger, this person who’s shown me more compassion than I could have imagined.
“No,” she offers gently, “But you can sit with him. That’s what you’re doing, and it’s a beautiful thing. Would you like to take a break? You can have something to eat? I’ll wait with him.”
“No, thank you,” I say on a damp sigh.
Her expression is soft. “I’ll have a tray sent up, then.”
She’s been gone a few minutes when Ky stirs on the bed. I’m at his side, offering a drink of water to his parched lips before he can speak. “What did I do?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
“You didn’t do anything,” I say, unable to stem the flow of tears. It’s like a faucet that’s been turned on—and the handle broke off. There’s no way to make them stop now. “It was me. I was gone, and you were worried about me.”
Even in this state the concern comes into his dark eyes. “Where were you?”
“There’s this guy.”
“Only sad stories start like that.”
My heart squeezes. “I know.”
“Don’t get attached, Ash. You know that.”
“I messed up,” I whisper.
His eyelids droop heavy, and I know he’s about to sleep again. I hold his hand so he’ll know he’s not alone. Even if he can’t hear me, he’ll know that much. “Not your fault,” he mumbles, and I don’t know whether he’s talking about his bad trip or getting attached to Sutton. Maybe both.
* * *
Sutton
I’m nursing the same glass of bourbon. It doesn’t taste like anything. Hugo’s here with me. If I had to guess, Damon Scott called him. He loves to pull our strings like we’re puppets. He has a glass of water, because as soon as he’s done, he has to drive home to his wife and baby.
“Get the hell out of here,” I say, clenching my hands around the glass.
“There’s no need to get hostile, mon ami. I’m not going anywhere.”
Sometimes Hugo really is a bastard. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Oui. Bon. I’m not going to nurse you.”
I swear he gets more French the more he wants to annoy me. “I’m not having some kind of weird rebound relationship because Harper and Christopher got married. I just got to know her, and I care about her as a friend, so I’m making sure she’s okay.”
There. That all sounded very reasonable.
Too bad it’s a bunch of shit.
Hugo gives a French sigh and takes a sip of water.
The Den is pretty empty. It’s a Wednesday night, but even so this is sparse. It’s more than a bar. It’s the playground of the rich and licentious. It’s also a modern-day salon for free thinkers. “Where the hell is everyone?”
“I think they took one look at your face and ran away scared.”
I run a hand over my face and hair. “I’m not that bad.”
“Well, I think Damon Scott may send you a bill for lost service.”
Before I can respond, the door opens. Blue comes inside, bringing with him a wave of cold, damp air. It must have started raining. Now I’m very sure that someone called them. Hugo and Blue were two of my closest friends.
Along with Christopher.
The four of us met every week, no matter how busy we got with work. We’re sounding boards and support. We’re steady rocks in an upside-down world. We even had a name, being the ambitious bastards that we are. Thieves Club. Because every dollar earned is a dollar taken from someone else. Whether we earned that money through investments or buildings, or in Hugo’s case, sleeping with wealthy women.
Blue sits down with that damned military bearing. “What did I miss?”
“Sutton’s feeling very sad over la courtisane.”
My eyebrows go up. “You know what she does.”
“But of course. I recognize her from the street corner. Very pretty girl.”
“Do you know how old she is?”
Hugo gives it a quick thought, as if doing a calculation. “I would say, seventeen.”
“Damn.”
“My knowledge of women is unrivaled.”
“Then can you talk to her. She feels ashamed of what she’s done to survive.”
“Is she ashamed? Or are you?”
“Hell,” I say on a growl. “I’m not ashamed of her. I’m goddamn pissed at everyone who made this her only choice. Her mother and father and whoever else made this happen.”
“I don’t think she wants to hear from an old colleague, but I’m always here if she needs me. There are some stains that never go away.”
That makes me raise my eyebrows. Even Blue looks surprised. He’s the one who speaks first. “You always seem so damn self-assured. I didn’t think you minded.”
“I don’t mind the good nights, of which there were many. The bad nights tend to linger.”
