I'm relieved when he's gone, even though I appreciated his help. For some reason, this journey feels personal-something I have to do on my own.
I pull out my phone and text Angelina. I texted her last night once my head was clear to apologize for running out on her. Her only answer was thank you, which pretty much ripped my chest open.
That means I hurt her when I left. And she hasn't forgiven me.
I texted again this morning to say I still needed to stay away, but I hoped she had a great day.
She just sent back a heart emoji. That's it.
So I hope this text will show her I'm really thinking about her.
I want to show you my warehouse space. It might give you ideas for your show. I'm working on it today, but can you come by tomorrow afternoon? 874 S. Ryndall.
She responds immediately. I have rehearsal but I'll come afterward.
I smile like a fool at my phone. Great. Can't wait.
Me neither.
And just like that, I'm transformed from haunted to happy.
This plan is good. It's going to work.
Angelina
Oh for fuck's sake.
It figures that the first time Jared wants to see me this week is the evening my parents decide to drop by and take me to dinner.
I'm sitting at the downtown restaurant, eating my salad without dressing, my stomach in a knot.
Everything about this feels wrong.
I should be over at the warehouse with Jared. I texted him but haven't received a response. When I tried to call, it went straight to voicemail, like his phone was off or the battery dead or something.
Halfway through the meal, the cause of my anxiety finally clicks. What can I say? I'm most blind when it comes to family dynamics. I'm betraying Jared again. Choosing my parents over him. Showing him that he's less important than they are.
Me shutting him out for dinner was the first rift between us. The full moon is a far more minor one, and one I can understand. One that's actually quite flattering when I think about it.
I set down my fork and clear my throat. "So, I'm dating someone."
Okay, that doesn't ease the tension in my midriff, it only makes it tighter, but I'm not going to stop now. I'm tired of hiding who I really am from the people who raised me. Who ought to know me best.
My dad shows no expression at all. My mom raises her eyebrows. Somehow, I sense judgement from them even though I haven't even told them who I'm dating. Or maybe I'm just imagining it all. Projecting my fears onto the situation. That must be it.
"His name is Jared. He works at the club where I dance."
There. The scorn I expected is on both their faces.
"Doing what?" My dad asks.
"He's a bouncer." I fight the urge to explain more. Why does Jared's job require justification. It's a perfectly decent, legitimate job. No, it doesn't require a college degree, but who cares?
My dad rolls his eyes.
"Well, everyone needs a little fling," my mom trills.
I lift my chin. "No, I really like him, and…" My mouth goes dry. "I'd like you to meet him." Oh God, did I really say it? Yes, I did. And there's no going back.
"Well, I don't think that's necessary." My mom's already decided he's not worth meeting.
Fuck her.
"Yes. I want you to meet him. After dinner. We'll drop by his warehouse."
This catches my dad's attention. Real estate is something he's always interested in. "He has a warehouse?"
I shrug. "I guess so. You know, the owner of Eclipse owns half the real estate downtown. I wouldn't be surprised if Jared's invested as well. He always seems to have plenty of money."
My dad exchanges a skeptical look with my mom.
I shove my half-finished salad away from me and signal to the waiter. "We're ready for our check."
It's funny how such a tiny act of independence feels like rebellion. We all have roles. Mine is to be the dutiful daughter. I don't call for the check, because I never pay. That's my dad's role.
Well, I have my payout from Saturday night dancing. I pull out the bills and toss them on the table. "Dinner's on me."
My parents gape at me.
Yep. Things are changing. Get used to it.
I get in my parent's car and plug the address Jared gave me into my phone. My dad acts impatient and put out the whole time, but he drives there anyway.
The parking lot of the row of warehouses is packed with cars and motorcycles. I double-check the address, but it's the right one. At least, the address he gave me is one side of the warehouse. It's the other side that's drawing the crowd. A garage door stands open and bodies throng around the open entrance.
I knock on the door of the address he gave me, but no one answers. People are staring at us like we're wearing neon you don't belong signs. And I guess we don't. Because the crowd appears tough. Very tough.
Are all these guys shifters?
I'm not familiar enough with his motorcycle to know if one of these is his, so I decide to just peek in.
Two burley men move to block me.
"I-I'm just here to see Jared. Do you know if he's around?"
One of the guys leans forward and takes a deep whiff of me.
"Angelina," my dad says sharply.
The guy who sniffed me throws an arm out between me and my parents. "You can go in. They stay out here. Your boy's inside, but he's busy at the moment."
Shouts and cheers erupt from inside, like there's some kind of show going on. I push through the crowd.
There's a large cage set up in the middle of the warehouse and the rough crowd gathers all around, hanging on the chain links, shouting jeers and taunts at the people in the cage.