“Cam’s seeing someone; I had no idea,” she says, making a sound of frustration.
“Oh,” I say, not knowing what to reply to her. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I made such a fool of myself. I honestly thought that eventually he’d see that we could be great together, but I guess that’s not going to happen. Maybe I’ve been reading too many romance novels. Things like that don’t happen in real life, do they?”
They do. It’s happening to me right now, except mine comes with a price, and this is it.
“I don’t think you made a fool of yourself. No regrets, right? I’m sure you’ll meet someone amazing.”
“So I’ve heard,” she grumbles, then says, “I kind of want to have a night out . . . just to distract myself. I haven’t been out since everything happened. So you want to come out with me and Helen?”
“Where?” I ask, brow furrowing as I wonder how this is going to go.
“To a bar or a club. We can have a few drinks and a dance, it will be fun,” she says, sounding upbeat all of a sudden.
I can’t remember the last time I went to a club. It has to have been years ago, maybe three or four. I was never really into the club scene. I don’t mind hitting a bar every now and again, but a club? Not really my thing.
“I don’t know, Elizabeth—”
“We’ll pick you up at seven,” she says, hanging up on me. I stare at my phone and wonder what I’m going to do. It feels so fake to spend the night with her, especially when she doesn’t know the truth about Ranger and me, but she wants me there and she’s trying to get out and about again. I don’t even have a valid excuse for not going, because tomorrow is my day off. I send Ranger a quick text saying I’m going to be out late, so we’re going to have to change our plans.
What, why?
Elizabeth wants to go out to a club and apparently attendance is compulsory.
I hit SEND and continue cleaning my house. What will I wear tonight? I’m sure I have some dresses in the back of my closet, but it’s been a while since I’ve had to get all dolled up. Or do I have to? Maybe I can pull off a more casual look. I go into my room and start rummaging through all my clothes. I decide on a simple black dress, it’s plain but tight-fitting, and a pair of black ankle boots. They have a small heel, enough to be sexy and comfortable at the same time. Nothing worse than having your feet hurt halfway through the night. I lay the dress out and place the boots in front of the bed.
I have a feeling tonight is going to be very interesting.
Cop is going clubbing, hey?
I imagine the amusement in his tone.
Yes, you got a problem with that?
Send me a pic, babe.
I’ll think about it.
Do you want me to drop you girls off?
No.
He can’t drop us off. Elizabeth is trying to forget him, and it will just be awkward. What if she brings up their conversation? This whole thing is so fucked-up. I’m such a bad person.
Jo.
No.
Why?
You know why, Ranger.
Fine. I’ll send one of the men.
Not necessary. We’re going to a club, not to war. And I’m a cop, or have you forgotten that already?
Call me if you need me. And call me when you get home.
Why?
So I know you’re safe.
I smile at the phone when another text from him comes in.
And so I can come over.
THIRTY-ONE
I LOOK in the bar’s bathroom mirror, making sure my makeup is still on. The red lip stain is in place and my eyeliner isn’t smudged. I actually look pretty decent. I take a quick selfie, probably my first mirror selfie ever, and forward it to Ranger. My hair is slicked back in my version of a dressier hairstyle, but somehow it works on me. In fact, I look pretty glam. The black dress clings to me like a second skin, showing the curves of my toned body. I nod in the mirror, then return to the bar, where Elizabeth and Helen are sitting, already on their fourth drinks. They keep checking out the bartender, a cute blond guy, one who goes by the name of Ryan. He’s a charmer, that’s for sure, so I can see why they’re interested, but the ring on his finger says he’s not.
“There are so many hot guys here tonight!” Elizabeth gushes. “None as hot as Cam, but after a few more drinks I’m sure that will change.”
I look to see Helen’s reaction, but she’s just laughing and drinking along with her sister. Do they plan on going home with someone tonight?
“There are three hot guys over there,” Helen says, pointing to a group of men in the corner. “We should go and sit with them. I call the one in the blue shirt.”
“What?” I ask, voice going up an octave. “I’m going to stay here, thank you.”
“Oh, come on, we’re three single women, we should go and have some fun. We’ve never even been out together before,” Elizabeth says, rubbing her hands together. “Come on, let’s go.”
Three single women, right.
Shit.
Elizabeth leads the way as we approach the men. I hide in the back.
“Hello,” she beams, turning on her charm. “Is it okay if we join you?”
“Of course,” one of the men says. He has dark hair and a dimple in his chin. “We’d love for you to.”
I roll my eyes. I bet they would. I awkwardly sit down, between Helen and a lanky bald man. We all introduce ourselves, shaking hands and in the girls’ cases, giving flirtatious smiles. There’s a man in the corner of the bar who keeps looking over in our direction. I’ve been keeping an eye on him, and I’m pretty sure I’m not being paranoid—he’s not just here for a casual drink. He’s got shaggy light blond hair, almost white, and he’s tall and good-looking. He’s wearing all black, leaning against the wall, and keeps looking over here every now and again. He’s been watching us since we walked into Knox’s Tavern, and of course I haven’t missed it.
“So what do you do for work?” Elizabeth asks the gentleman she’s obviously into, Mr. Chin Dimple.
“I’m an accountant,” he replies, taking a sip of his wine. “And you?”
I block them out while they exchange pleasantries, wondering what that man is up to. Is he here for Elizabeth? Did we miss someone? What if we did? What if he knows her face, knows that she got away, and wants to take her out? Well, not on my watch. I jump as the bald guy touches my elbow, trying to get my attention.
“How are you doing tonight, beautiful?” he asks me, smiling.
I blink slowly a few times before I reply. “Not bad, how are you?”
“Much better now,” he says, eyes dropping to my boobs. I look down where he’s looking, then back up at him with a raised brow. From the corner of my eye, I see the man leave the bar, so I excuse myself and follow him outside. His back is to me and he’s on his phone, so I pull my gun out of my handbag, wanting to catch him off guard. I walk up behind him and push him face-first into the brick wall.
“Who are you?” I growl, pressing my gun into his back.
“Fucking hell,” the man says. “Put the gun down, Jo.”
I still. “How do you know my name?”
I hear him mutter, “I told him not to fuck with a cop.”