Page 40 of Crow

Her eyes shine like I’ve just granted her the world with that information. She’s looking at me the same way she looked out the window of the first can be we got into. “I always felt alone too,” she admits. “I had an imaginary friend, and she seemed so real to me, until my dad made me stop the nonsense about ghosts. They weren’t Christian.”

“Umm, excuse me? This from the religion who invented the terms Holy Ghost and Holy Spirit?”

She’s so lovely when she rolls her eyes. “I know. It’s all kind of silly, isn’t it?”

“Maybe he was secretly scared you were summoning demons.”

Bubbly laughter fills the car. Despite the pretzel, I can tell that she’s still buzzing from the vodka. It looks good on her though, softening all her features as she lets down her guard and casts away her worries and apprehensions.

Her hand trembles in the space between us and then covers the distance, her fingers edging up against mine.

“I wasn’t, and he knew that. It was wild, the things he wouldn’t let me do. It really made no sense at all.”

“Forgive me for saying it, but he sounds like a very small man. He reminds me so much of my parents. They’re exceptionally narrow minded.”

“Does Adam have a good relationship with them?” She turns to the window before turning back. “Sorry. That’s prying.”

“It’s fine.” I caress her knuckle with my index finger, heat swelling in my chest. “He tried for a while. In the end, it didn’t work. They drove him away. There’s no going back. We’re just not close either. Most of our life has been a competition. He’s always been the stronger one. He liked to push me out. He never listened to me. He assumed things about who and what I was, and he’s never got over that. He doesn’t know me, and he won’t even try.”

“I’d like to try.”

I don’t get sad. I’ve learned to harden myself off over the years, but my insides clench and grind like a faulty machine. All of that was the truth, and yet it was also all lies. She doesn’t know what she’s saying because there’s no way shecanknow.

I’m silent for just long enough, until the cab turns the corner and the lineup in front of the strip club reveals itself. Tarynn grasps my hand fully, her excitement renewed.

“I didn’t even know you could do this on a Sunday. It seems incredibly irreverent.”

“I guess in Vegas, anything is possible.”

I pay the driver then hold the door open for her. My hand immediately falls to the small of her back. It’s not just protective,it’s functional. I don’t want her to stumble or fall. I have no idea how many drinks she really had, or how they’re hitting her. She seems coordinated, but she’s also entirely uninhibited right now, and I’m not taking any chances.

The line moves surprisingly fast. I keep my hand at Tarynn’s back. She waits in eager silence, her body rigid with excitement. We only wait for fifteen minutes before we’re at the front. I pay our cover and as soon as we step through the door, we’re inundated with throbbing music. There are several stages, all on one side, chairs, tables, and booths on the other across from it.

I lead Tarynn straight to that area, away from the seats closest to the stage. Most of them are filled with men already. There’s no way I’m going to let her near any of those animals. They’re wild and rowdy, jostling each other, practically salivating over the naked and near naked girls writhing on the poles on stage.

The floor is practically gummy. I try not to notice the way my boot sticks. Tarynn’s entire attention is fixated on the stage. It’s a good thing I’m here to guide her, or she would have missed the few stairs up to the raised area at the back.

The booths are mostly full. It’s busy here tonight, as the lineup indicated.

We find two free black club chairs at the very edge of the fray. I stare at them dubiously before I allow Tarynn to sink into one.

As soon as we’re seated, we’re immediately accosted by several different waitresses, trying to get us to order drinks.

Tarynn wants a vodka cranberry. I wish I could pay the waitress to make it entirely cranberry with just a hint of alcohol, but I decide that one drink won’t hurt. That pretzel I watched Tarynn consume was large and doughy. It should soak up some of the alcohol.

I know I need to keep my head, but I also want to keep Crow from shoving me aside. This ismynight. If all I get are these few hours, I want them to be mine and mine alone. I want them to count.

I ignore the thick feeling in my throat and order a double shot of whiskey, neat.

Thankfully, when the waitress returns, Tarynn sips at her drink. I down mine and order another. Crow’s refusal to ever drink gives our body a fairly low tolerance. Another double and my head is on fire, my body nicely languid. I wave off the offer for anything further. I’m fine, at least for the next while. I need to stay in control in order to make sure I can keep Tarynn safe, all while pushing Crow further and further down inside of us.

After the drinks, I follow Tarynn’s eyes. They’re so wide and green. She seems captivated and amazed by what she’s seeing. I see a place that is mostly a façade, entirely put together of plastic and pretense, the people included.

Tarynn, with her natural beauty and her radiant kindness, is the most beautiful woman here.

We’ve only been here for fifteen minutes when the first dancer walks by. She stops in front of us, eyes scanning up and down me before moving on to Tarynn. “Do you want a dance, sweetheart?”

It’s unclear which of us she’s addressing. My automatic response is to shake my head firmly but in a way I figure is polite. Behind the dark haired dancer, two topless women with G-string panties sparkling in the muted lights, lead a single man towards the back private rooms.

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