Chapter 19
VINCE
It’s busy as hell for a weeknight in the end of January, and the concert hasn’t even started.
Declan hired a guitarist to play live tonight, using the tiny stage meant for poetry readings and trivia nights. Apparently Seth knows the musician through his work, and she has a huge following on social media. He thought it would be good for business since things have been quiet.
Clearly, he wasn’t wrong. Once word got out that Ruby Rose was playing, our social media activity kicked up tenfold. The news spread fast.
Now the constant buzz of conversation is reminding me too much of the banging and loud noises of the MRI scan, and it’s making me anxious. I need to stop thinking about it. I’ll have answers next week.
“We’re going to have to turn away people if they keep coming,” Piper says, watching the crowd with me near the door.
“I think Declan should move the concert outside so we can open the patio.”
Her eyes get huge. “Are you crazy? It’s barely fifty degrees!”
I shrug. “Sounds like heaven to me. They won’t notice the chill with this many people.”
Honestly, I’d love for him to pull the garage doors up and let some of the cooler air in. I’m already burning up.
Laughter echoes loudly from the bar, and the air buzzes with that rare, easy energy that makes work feel almost… fun. Don’t get me wrong—I still hate the crowds. But the energy is different tonight.
“Stay here. I’m going to go talk to him.”
Walking to the bar, I get Declan’s attention.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Declan says, coming up to me. “We haven’t had a band play in… damn, a few months at least.” His grin practically reaches his ears.
“Yeah, but it’s getting crowded, don’t you think?”
He frowns.
I tip my head toward the garage doors. “Let’s move it outside. Open the doors.”
He considers it, then nods. “Yeah, okay.” Before I walk away, Declan grabs my arm. “Hey, Vince. I told River and Jordan to keep an eye on things tonight. So don’t stress if it gets too busy for you.”
My stomach sinks. Declan hadn’t meant it as a jab—just the opposite—yet it floods me with shame. He shouldn’t have to make alternate plans on busy nights or second-guess if I can do my job.
“I’ll be fine,” I say a little harsher than I mean to.
He waves me off. “Oh, I know. I just meant, with the crowd tonight, it’ll be good to have more people keeping watch. I want everyone to have a good time.”
Behind him, Jordan scoops some ice into a glass, shaking his head at the crowd.
“I forget how crazy it can get,” Jordan says. His long, dark hair is tied back in a braid, and he’s wearing a plain black button-down. It’s nice having him back, even if it’s only a couple of days a week. The rest of the time he’s working on his books. Fletcher is a big fan of them.
Declan cups a hand around his mouth. “Yo, Ollie! Move that table to the side, will you? It’s going to be a full house.”
Oliver waves in acknowledgement.
With Declan deep in preparation mode, I grab a broom and sweep by the door, needing something to do in between groups of excited customers. The concert is an hour away, yet it’s already buzzing.
I told River and Jordan to keep an eye on things…
The words replay themselves in my head. I grip the handle a little tighter than necessary. I should be grateful Declan hasn’t let me go, but it angers me that I can’t even do my job. Between the pain, the heat, and the constant overstimulation, it’s becoming harder and harder to be here.
And Declan sees it. That’s what he’s saying without having to say it.
“Six days,” I mutter under my breath. Just six days until the damn specialist appointment, and maybe I can find some answers.
There has to be a way to make some of this stop, right? Even without a cure, there has to be some kind of relief? I can’t keep letting people down like this. Forcing them to make accommodations.
I can’t keep giving up pieces of myself to an illness I have no control over.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, smiling the moment I see Fletcher’s name. I swipe to read his text.
Just finishing up at work. Darren and I will be there soon.
My heart skips a beat. It’s silly how I still get a rush every time I know I’m about to see him—not only joy but relief.
I thought it would die off, but it hasn’t.
If anything, it’s gotten stronger. Some days it’s all I can do not to count the minutes until I see him.
On my worst days, Fletcher makes it all bearable.
I just wish I could give him something back. Do for him what he does for me.
I text him back. See you soon then.
“I’m still not used to seeing that smile on your face.”
I look up to see Ace standing in the doorway, relaxed in khaki shorts and a black t-shirt. His sleek blond hair is swept back and perfect, as always.
“And I’m still not used to you appearing out of thin air.” I pocket my phone. “What are you doing here?”
“Came by to talk to you. Got a minute?”
I really don’t, with how busy it’s getting, but Ace won’t leave until he gets what he wants. So I pull him into the dark corner of the entrance. “What’s up?”
Ace reveals an envelope from his pocket and holds it out to me. “Rent for next month. And, uh—” He hesitates. “If you don’t mind me staying another month after that, I’m good for that too. It’s all there.”
My heart sinks. It’s like a slap to the face. How could I forget about the damn apartment? Fuck. What am I going to do? I haven’t been able to think that far ahead—not when everything is too uncertain. Fletcher never meant for me to be a permanent roommate, and my lease is up in April.
The walls seem to close in again. My lungs tighten.
“Is that a problem?” Ace asks.
I shake it off. “No, I just haven’t thought about it yet. That’s all.” I tuck the envelope into my back pocket. “It’ll work great if you stayed, actually.”
Ace’s smile is immediate. “Had a feeling you’d say that. Things still going good with the hottie?”
“Yeah, they are.”
He claps me on the shoulder, beaming like a proud dad or something. “Good. Glad to hear it. If you need me to stay longer, just say so. I’ll be around a while.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“I got a job.” He sounds eager, and a little smug.
I raise an eyebrow.
“The motorcycle repair shop over on Sixth needed a new mechanic.”
“No shit?”
“Yup. I start Monday. Full time.”
I pull him in for a hug. “That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.”
Underneath the joy, a sharp, ugly flicker of jealousy twists in my gut.
Not because of the job—no. Because Ace has always known what he wanted to do after the military.
He’d always wanted to work hands-on with motorcycles.
Specifically dirt bikes—the kind he used to race when he was a teen.
Ace has several national and international medals for motocross, and he’s always said if given the chance he’d love to coach junior riders.
He gave it all up to serve his country.
It’s something else I’ve always envied about him—the choice. I never had that luxury.
Ace and I talk for a few more minutes, then he gestures to the bar. “Crazy tonight, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Ruby Rose is playing soon.”
His eyes widen. “The indie guitarist?”
“The one and only.”
“No fucking way. I have to see this.” He disappears into the crowd so fast I almost laugh.
With a rare moment to breathe, I sink onto my barstool, hoping it’ll ease the sudden tension creeping in.
The conversation with Ace has tanked my mood.
I fist my hands—not from pain, but from anger.
I really need to figure my life out. Most days, even planning a couple of hours ahead feels too risky.
Like the damn Christmas ornaments. I’d started that project wanting to do something for Fletcher and ended up being forced to stop because my hands hurt too much. I didn’t trust myself not to break his fragile ornaments.
More and more people come, their voices high and full of excitement. Some people wear all red, from red hats down to bright red shoes. One woman is even wearing creepy red contacts. Clearly, they’re big fans of Ruby Rose.
Georgie is too. She’d begged me to get an autograph since she was too young to attend, which is why Fletcher and Darren are coming.
Well, one of the reasons, anyway. Fletcher visits me often at work now, and more and more it feels like he’s just checking up on me.
Sure, he wants to see me, but the worry is always there—always.
When I see his truck pull into the parking lot, I stand up straighter and smooth the front of my shirt. Fletcher grins wide as he crosses the parking lot, earning a playful shove from his brother.
Darren slips through the door with a smile while Fletcher quickly steps into the corner so we can talk without him being in the way. It takes five minutes for the crowd to slow down, but as soon as we’re alone, he leans in to kiss me, slow and unhurried, like he’s got nowhere else to be.
“Hey, handsome,” he says, kissing me again. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” It’s mostly true, anyway. Fletcher doesn’t need to know about my sudden self-doubt.
He scans my body, but doesn’t comment when he sees me leaning against the barstool. His gaze drifts to the lobby. “It’s already crazy, isn’t it?”
“Declan moved it to the patio, so it should open up a little soon.”
He shakes his head. “Georgie is so sad she can’t meet Ruby.”
“Get some pictures for her.”
“Oh, I will. She threatened to buzz Darren’s hair off if I didn’t.”
I laugh.
He stays with me for twenty minutes, patiently waiting every time another person comes in.
Electric shocks flick up my calves to my knees, making me grip the back of the barstool.
I shift from foot to foot, trying to relieve the sudden pain.
It’s persistent tonight, a constant hum under my skin, and it’s only getting worse the longer I’m here.
Fletcher notices, of course. He always notices.
Instead of asking if I’m okay, he presses a quick kiss to my cheek and disappears toward the bar. He comes back with a glass of water, like taking care of me is the most natural thing in the world. I grit my teeth as I accept it.
Fletcher knows I have pain meds in my pocket—I never go anywhere without them now—but I hate how much I need them tonight. There’s no way I’ll get through this shift without them.
Shame colors my cheeks as I swallow two pills. Is this all he sees when he looks at me now? A body that’s breaking down every day? I wish it didn’t have to be this way.
He tugs on my shirt, as if trying to get my attention. “That new color looks amazing on you,” he says gently.
It’s one of those cooling athletic shirts. Not the kind I usually wear to work, but I need them more and more lately.
I shrug.
When the guitarist strums her first note, the entire room cheers. Laughter spills over tables as people rush to the outdoor venue.
Fletcher kisses me before going to join his brother.
The last few people rush to the door from the parking lot, then it’s complete stillness. I sit on the barstool, enjoying the break, yet feeling weirdly separate from it all too. Not depressed. Just… low. Like the volume’s been turned down or something.
I like my job, I really do, but being a bouncer was never supposed to be a permanent thing.
It was supposed to be a filler. Something to get me by until I could find something else.
But then I liked my co-workers and even felt like I might fit in someday, so the urgency to find something else dissolved.
Now, thinking of leaving them is unsettling.
But how can I stay when my body fights me every hour of every shift?
I desperately need to figure my shit out. But how can I dream of tomorrow when I can barely get through today?
I scan the crowd, more out of habit than necessity, and bite back a laugh when I see Oliver leaning over the bar talking to Ace, their heads inches apart as if trying to be heard over the noise.
Oliver has zero shame and a whole lot of game for such a small guy, but there isn’t a chance in hell Ace will sleep with him. He’s picky about his partners. He likes them rough and able to carry their own, and Oliver can barely carry a crate of liquor bottles without shaking. It’ll never work.
Good luck, dude.
Declan stops by on the way to the hall. “Hey. You holding up okay?”
“Yeah,” I answer automatically. I wish people would stop watching me so fucking closely.
“Good. I saw Fletcher tonight.”
“Yeah, he came to get an autograph for his daughter.”
“Yeah, he mentioned that. But we all know that isn’t the only reason he’s here.” Declan winks.
Heat rushes to my cheeks.
“You guys are really hitting it off, aren’t you?”
I can’t hide my smile. “I think so, yeah.”
He studies me for a second. Not critically. Just… thoughtfully. “That’s great, man. I’m happy for you. Why don’t you take the weekend off? Spend some time with him. Might be good to get some rest before your big appointment too.”
Something about the way he says it lands wrong. My stomach sinks and my thoughts skid sideways before I can stop them. Be good for me? What the fuck did that mean?
“Did I… do something?”
He shakes his head. “No, not at all. I just thought you could use a break.”
I grit my teeth. “I’m fine, Declan.”
“I know you are. But I’m trying to keep you that way, so take the weekend. I’ll have River cover for you.”
As he walks away, I stand there, seething. It isn’t a suggestion. It isn’t even an option. Declan all but told me to take time off. Can he not see how much I’m trying? The extra effort I’m putting in?
Or maybe he does.
Fuck.
Maybe he is seeing it and seeing the cost of it.
The walls inch in again, cracks narrowing in my vision. My world keeps getting smaller.
I slump against the chair, sorrow filling me. I’ve always feared this day would come. From the first time I admitted something was wrong in my body, I’d feared being cast aside and labeled weak. But to hear it from Declan?
Is this really how they see me now? I used to drive combat vehicles and haul hundreds of pounds of gear across the desert. Now I’m nothing more than a doorman.
It fucking hurts, and it digs a thumb into the bruise of my heart.
I scrub a hand along the back of my neck, ignoring the painful tingles. What am I going to do?