Page 64 of Beautiful Scars

Instead, I find myself pulling on my jacket and heading for my car. The evening air is cool as I step outside, stars just starting to appear in the darkening sky.

I tell myself I'm just going to check on her, make sure she's okay. That's what friends do, right?

Are we friends?

The truth is, I'm not sure what I'm doing anymore. I feel off-balance. Everything has shifted and I can't find my footing. The past few weeks have changed everything and I'm not sure I can make any of it make sense.

But as I slide behind the wheel, I realize I have to try. For her sake. For mine. Maybe even for Levi's, though I'm not ready to examine that part of it all too closely yet.

The neon signs lining the entrance to Sirens cast their familiar glow across the parking lot as I pull in. It takes a few minutes to find a spot. It's busy for Tuesday night. Somewhere inside, Sunny's working her shift. As Angel.

I sit in my car, the engine idling, caught between going in and driving away. Between loyalty to an old friend, someone I consider my brother, and something new I don’t have a name for yet.

I kill the engine and step out into the night air. The neon bathes everything in a harsh red glow. Stepping inside is like stepping into a different universe.

Inside, the music pounds and throbs with fierce intensity. My eyes scan the room, finding Sunny behind the bar. She's wearing a white crop top and short white mini skirt. Her hair is pulled back from her face and tied with a white ribbon. She's beautiful.

She spots me and freezes for a split second before recovering her composure. I watch her shoulders square as she steels herself. Even from here, I can see the shadows under her eyes that makeup can't quite hide.

I take a spot at the end of the bar, away from the main crowd. Sunny approaches, professional mask firmly in place.

"What can I get you?"

"Whiskey, neat." I study her face. "You look tired."

Her fingers tighten on the glass she's holding. "I'm fine."

"It would be understandable and okay if you're not."

"Actually, no. It wouldn't be okay." She sets my drink down with more force than necessary. "This is my job, Z. I can't afford to be anything but fine right now."

I take a slow sip, letting the whiskey burn. "When do you get off?"

"Why?"

"Because you need to eat something, and I know a place that makes decent food at two a.m."

A ghost of a smile touches her lips before vanishing. "I don't need you to take care of me."

"I know. But maybeIneed to do something besides sit and stare at the walls and overthink everything."

She studies me for a long moment. "Two-thirty."

"I'll wait."

The next few hours pass slowly. I nurse my drink and watch Sunny work. She moves with practiced efficiency, dodging wandering hands and deflecting crude comments with a smile. It never quite reaches her eyes though. Every so often, she glances my way like she's making sure I'm still here.

Jade appears around midnight, sliding onto the stool next to me. "You're back."

"Apparently."

"She told me what you did. Feeding her, listening to her..." Jade's voice softens slightly. "You left that part out. Thank you for taking care of her."

"How bad’s it been?"

"Bad enough." She sighs. "Look, you seem like a good guy. Colt tells me you are. But when it comes to Angel, I don't trust anyone or their intentions completely. She needs someone right now who knows and can understand what she's been through. She loves me, but I think there’s things she doesn’t want me to know. She needs someone who isn't me."

"I'm not trying to—"

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