36. Waverly
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
WAVERLY
T he club is almost completely deserted when I slip from the private room, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t need all the members to witness my walk of shame, especially as I struggle to get my shoes on without bending in a way that makes my ribs protest.
It’s not until I reach the main floor that I find a few stragglers in the bar area, including Abigail flirting with one of the regulars I’ve seen hanging around her the last couple of nights we’ve worked together.
I swipe at my cheeks, trying and failing to hold the tears at bay until I get onto the street. There’s more than enough money in my account to get a cab tonight, and although it’s not an expense I would ordinarily like to spend on, it’s a necessary one. I’m too upset to watch my back, which is dangerous for a five-foot-nothing woman on the streets of New York City in the middle of the night.
“Waverly?” a familiar voice calls as I’m about to push my way into the front bar, and I consider ignoring them, but Wyatt is my boss, and I don’t want to lose this job. Not when I finally have enough money to pay my bills and not have to work at a shitty job like the diner.
I turn but keep my eyes trained low. “Hey.” I force my voice to remain even, but I can’t hide the wobble in the single word.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice moving closer to me. “Did someone hurt you?”
“No.” I shake my head. “No one hurt me.” Except myself. I leave that part out, though. My boss doesn’t need to know how fucked up I am and that I can’t accept any kind of true intimacy because my upbringing and life up to this point have been so messed up.
“Are you sure? You’re crying.” Wyatt’s standing a couple of feet away, like he knows I’m at risk of bolting if he gets any closer. “You can tell me if someone did, Waverly. It’ll just be between us, and I’ll make sure whoever it is doesn’t get away with it.”
“No one hurt me.” I force my eyes up to meet his. He already knows I’m crying, he might as well see the truth in the words. “I promise, I’m okay. I just need to get home and go to bed.”
He considers me for a moment before flicking a look over his shoulder. “Let me drive you home. I don’t want you getting in a stranger’s car when you’re upset like this.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m just going to grab a cab.”
He looks like he’s about to argue but then seems to think better of it. “You promise you’re getting a taxi and you’re not going to try to walk?”
“I promise.”
“And you promise you would tell me if someone did hurt you?”
I nod. “I will.”
He sighs. “Fine. Get out of here before Brodie sees you crying. The mother hen in him can’t cope when you girls cry.” There’s a light smile on his lips that tells me he’s trying to bring light to the situation, and I’m grateful for it.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t see,” I assure him.
“When are you on next?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Oh, Elias and I are bringing Leighton in tomorrow night. She’ll be so happy to see how well you’ve settled in!”
“It will be good to see her.” And it will. I need to thank her for getting me this job. She can’t possibly know how much she changed my life when she didn’t have to. I was just some girl in her line at the soup kitchen, and she chose to help me.
Just the thought of it makes my heart clench and tears rise to the surface again.
Fuck, I’ve never been this emotional before.
Maybe I’m getting my period, I think to myself. I’ll need to double-check my calendar when I get home, but that would explain a lot of my impulsive judgment today.
B y the time the taxi drops me in front of my building, I’m about to burst. All the emotions I’ve felt tonight are weighing me down to the point I can barely breathe through them, and all I want is my lumpy mattress and threadbare quilt.
I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to fall apart. For as long as I can think back, I’ve forced myself to be strong. It was always getting to the next month, to the next job, to the next year when everything would finally be better.
But now I don’t have a next anything to strive toward.
I have a good job. A job that covers my bills. A job that is safe and doesn’t leave me stinking of stale oil.
It occurs to me as I climb the stairs to my apartment that I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally gotten to a point where I don’t have to struggle, and that scares the shit out of me.
I didn’t have to run from Emmett tonight because I can give him my time and my energy. I can allow myself to be vulnerable with him because, for the first time in a decade, my instincts don’t have to constantly be in fight-or-flight mode. I can allow myself to relax, to enjoy my life.
By the time I make it to my door and unlock the deadbolt, I know I made a mistake by running. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to retreat as soon as things started to get too real, but maybe it’s time for a new normal.
I lock the door behind me and flick the light switch on. For a second I forget that I’ve paid the bill and cringe at the thought of there being no light while I shower and get ready for bed, but then I remember that I paid the bill a few days ago, as well as the others that were overdue.
I look around the shitty studio apartment and sigh. I wonder how long it will take me to save enough for a nicer place. I don’t need anything fancy, but maybe something closer to the club, in a safer neighborhood, and maybe with a shower that doesn’t run cold after thirty seconds, and without the cockroaches that try to invade the kitchen every few weeks.
I’ll have to have a look on my days off.
I drop my bag on the dining room table and spot the box inside.
The box containing a brand-new phone. A phone that isn’t fifth-hand and already smashed like the ones I’ve fleetingly had in the past.
It’s the latest model, and I’m its first owner.
“I’m such an asshole,” I sigh, dropping into one of the dining chairs.
I swallow around the shame and reach for the phone box. I should return it. After the way I acted tonight, I’m sure I wouldn’t be met with much resistance, but then again, he is a man of God. A man of God with a very filthy mouth.
My cheeks heat at the memory of his dirty talking, his praise, his commands. I didn’t know sex could be as hot as what happened between us tonight.
I slip the phone from its box and notice it’s already turned on, making my brows tug together. But then I see the notification sitting on the screen, and my stomach drops. He’s probably telling me he wants the phone back. Hell, I would deserve that with the way I ran out of there like my ass was on fire.
Emmett: I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard tonight, but I need you to know I’m not letting you go. You can run as much as you want, but I’m always going to chase you.
Emmett: Sleep well, Little Temptress.
There’s a part of me that sees the red flag waving right in front of my face at the words he’s chosen, and yet another that seems to be colorblind as fuck.