Chapter 28
Remi
Thought winds ahead through gathering shade;
Memory circles the ash of yesterday.
A single croak of warning, half-heard, afraid,
Then both are gone, leaving the silence of day.
“We’re here.” Amir’s deep voice cut through my dream.
It had been a weird one, full of confusing and contradictory bullshit.
Ravens, utterly silent, pecked at my reflection in the water.
A tree was inverted above me, the roots meeting the earth where the lake ended, but there was nothing there to cast its image.
The water itself was calm, as though there wasn’t a lick of wind.
I looked down at my palm where I remembered trying to cut it open with a shard of glass in pursuit of wisdom before the world tree.
But the glass had collapsed, spilling black ink into my palm.
It slipped through my fingers and shattered my reflection and that of Yggdrasil.
I was left with no blood and no ink, and worst of all, no wisdom.
If Thought and Memory wouldn’t speak, maybe the gods didn’t care to listen either.
I turned to look at the bar out the window.
The driver had pulled up to the front, and I felt a familiar warmth when I saw the sign that identified this place as mine.
Immediately, I unfastened my seatbelt and pushed open the door.
Once I was on the sidewalk, I took a second to stare.
It was still standing. Nothing terrible had happened to it.
There were most likely no crazy ex-boyfriends lurking inside, waiting to pounce.
I turned to smile at Amir, hiked my thumb over my shoulder and took a step back. “Well, this is me. See you around, I guess.”
He lifted one brow as he stood. When he shut the door, the driver pulled away, and I made a surprised sound.
“Shit, did he just leave you?”
“I’ll call another one later.” He slung his arm around my shoulders. “I’m not dropping you off like you’re a shameful fling.”
“Hm. I am basically your Pretty Woman.”
“Not even close.”
Together, we walked up to the door. It was almost surreal when I stuck my key in the lock.
Six weeks was a long time to be away, and even though everything appeared fine, I expected something to be waiting for me.
Was there anyone who would put a hit out on me?
Probably not, but if you weren’t prepared, you were a dumbass.
From my first look around, it was all intact. Clean too. But there was something . . . off.
Amir went to the pool table and ran his fingers along the wooden edge. He looked over his shoulder with a saucy expression. “Is it gross that people use this thing?”
I snorted as I moved behind the bar, taking in every inch carefully. “I think it’s great. Like an inside joke they’ll never have access to.”
“I could put it in my house and get you a new one.”
“No.”
“You really want it here?”
“It’s mine. I like things that have memory.” I had to turn around to hide my smile.
“You’re still thinking about selling it aren’t you?”
I waved my fingers to dismiss the question. Looking at the bottles, I made sure that they were all accounted for. I crouched and quickly scanned under the tables. When I checked beneath the counter, the holster there was empty.
Somebody was dying today.
“What are you doing?” Amir asked.
I took a steadying breath to curb the darkness. “Nothing, really. What about you?”
“You’re acting like there’s someone hiding out here.”
I lifted one shoulder before I continued toward the back.
He was right behind me, but he didn’t interrupt as I checked the stock shelves, then the walk-in.
The door to the office had been closed when I passed it.
The light was on, though, which could’ve been an oversight on Oli’s part.
He was prone to those. Often. Still, it left a gnarly feeling in my gut that grew with every second.
“Stay here,” I instructed.
Of course he didn’t listen to me. As I approached the door, I heard a sound. It brought me to a halt, and I put my arm out to make sure Amir didn’t go ahead. I took another step, trying to see through the blinds.
“Who—”
I slammed my hand against his mouth and pushed him up against the wall across from the door. After a few seconds, nobody came out, so either they hadn’t heard us or they were waiting for me to come in.
Staying aware of the door, I did a quick analysis.
My other gun was inside the office. The knife Amir got me was in my backpack, which I’d left beside the front door.
Rookie mistake. I should’ve grabbed it as soon as I got a bad feeling, but I hadn’t wanted to freak him out.
He’d think I was paranoid and probably go parading around to check everything out for himself, which was a good way to get himself killed. No survival skills on this one.
Me? I was from the streets, as one might say. Oli too. He would’ve helped me go room to room without even asking.
I was able and willing to go hand-to-hand with someone.
If they had my gun, well, that was a risk I was moderately prepared for.
The only issue was Amir. A man’s greatest weakness was love.
When that man had enemies, it could be exactly what facilitated his downfall.
But he definitely wouldn’t let me send him away, so that was a moot point.
Holding my arm behind me to keep Amir back, I stepped closer to the door. Another sound came through, like someone was moving around in there. Then a grunt. They were definitely searching through my shit.
From the side of the blinds, I could see movement. It was hard to pinpoint anything specific. Once I got right up to it, I peered in with one eye.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hissed. Returning to stand beside Amir, I leaned against the wall.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice low.
“Just give it a minute.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m respectful, dumbass.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but a loud moan interrupted him. They must’ve reached the main event because the sound from inside grew exponentially.
“Dean, oh God, yes,” Oli said.
A growl followed. Maybe it was Dean, or it might’ve been Oli. There was no telling.
Amir’s cheeks were red as he stared at the ground. When he glanced at me, there was a flicker of something there that made me laugh. A loud swear from the office made his lips twitch upward, and he had to cover his mouth to keep quiet.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” Oli cried.
Dean was going to die of shame when I walked in there.
He let out a sound that I would consider embarrassing. “You’re a maniac, Oli.”
Amir leaned closer. “So, you two are alike.”
I shrugged. “Sometimes. I like to consider us unstoppable.”
“Mmhmm, I’m sure.”
The ordeal reached a crescendo, then died abruptly. I gave them exactly sixty seconds to enjoy the come-down before I winked at Amir. With a heavy fist, I banged on the door.
“Police! Hands in the air and don’t make any sudden moves!”
“Jesus!” Dean shouted.
I flung the door open and stood there with my arms crossed, a stern expression firmly planted on my face. As soon as he saw me, Dean’s face turned bright red, and he rushed to finish zipping up his pants.
Oli moved more casually as he situated himself. He could barely stay upright from the way he laughed as he turned to face me. His smile felt like home, even in the midst of what I’d walked in on.
“You fucking asshole,” Dean grumbled. He pulled his t-shirt on, tucking away his ridiculously chiseled abs. The guy was a walking poster-child for pre-workout. Or steroids.
“So, is this the first time you’ve defiled my bar?” I asked, maintaining my stern demeanor. “Or shall I say . . . came inside Remi’s back room.”
Oli tried his best not to laugh, but Dean was too chagrined to recognize good humor.
He pointed a finger at Oli as he marched past me. “Don’t tell him a thing.”
“Uh, hey,” Amir said awkwardly.
Oli gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, it’s the baseball star.”
I put a hand on his chest to keep him from assaulting Amir with his overwhelming, albeit lovable, personality. “Maybe give them both a minute to get through the awkwardness as a team.”
Their voices got further away, so I focused on Oli. With a smile, I dropped into my chair. Remembering how my office had been desecrated, I quickly checked the armrests for suspicious wet spots before I used them.
“So,” I mused, spinning in a full circle. Oli appeared for a second before I made another round. “Tell me everything.”
He stuck his foot out to stop my orbit. “It’s been good here.”
I gave him a pointed look. “Not about the bar. You texted me every day about it.” Zeroing in on the desk behind him, I narrowed my eyes. “What on earth did you need that for?”
He looked at the gun with a grimace. “It’s not loaded.”
“Please tell me you didn’t . . . Oli . . . Did you . . .” With a groan, I slumped in the seat.
“Come on. You can’t convince me you haven’t done it.”
“No, I haven’t. When I’m feeling extra frisky, I use my teeth, maybe draw a little blood, but not too much to warrant an investigation. That”—I nodded toward the gun—”is stuff for books, not reality.” I grabbed his wrist and got serious. “Be honest with me. Are you bored with each other?”
He smiled a little goofily. “We’re never bored, Rem.”
I crossed one leg over the other. “Good. Now, tell me.”
“He was robbing the place.”
“A bad porno. His idea?”
“Mine.”
“Disgusting.” I held my fist out and waited for him to bump it. “Proud of you, kid. Why live vicariously when we’ve got free will to spare?”
“I’ll drink to that.”
Clapping my hands on my thighs, I stood. He followed me out to the front of the bar, then hopped up onto the counter.
I held up a glass. “Root beer?”
“You know it.”
After filling it, I slid it over to him, then grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured one for the rest of us. When I raised it like a toast toward Dean, he begrudgingly sat at the bar.
“Wait,” I said, holding it away from him. “Give me all your money.”
“What?”
“Or do I need to get the gun?”
He shot an exasperated look toward Oli, who quickly brought the soda to his lips and refused to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.