Chapter 13 #2
It didn’t make the fear go away. But it made me feel prepared, and that was almost as good.
The only thing I never got used to was the way time warped at Neon. Sometimes an entire night would pass in the blink of an eye; other times, a single set felt like it stretched on forever, every second weighted with the sense of being watched, judged, and marked.
I learned to see the signs: the way the lighting would shift, just barely, when someone interesting entered the VIP; the way Rita would go silent, waiting for a signal I never saw; the way the music would dip, a fraction of a beat, whenever the club’s real power-brokers made their entrance.
I also learned to smile through it, to embody the role.
To glide across the stage with a playful toss of my hair and a teasing smile, to sway in rhythm with the music while pretending to be enthralled by the crowd’s tired compliments, to flirt just enough with my movements to keep them captivated without revealing too much of myself.
It was a game, and I was getting good at it.
But every so often, I’d catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bar mirror, or the sharp, gold-tinted gaze of Aiden from the dance floor and remember that the rules of this game were written in blood and secrets, not tips and tequila shots.
I was in over my head, and I knew it.
But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to run.
I wanted to see what happened next.
* * *
The third Saturday in a row, I found myself standing outside Neon after a show, arms crossed over my chest, and every muscle in my body singing the national anthem of exhaustion.
The warmth of the summer night wrapped around me like a thick, heavy cloak, while the humidity clung to my skin with an insistent grip that made each breath feel labored.
For a fleeting moment, I considered making my way to the all-night diner down the street, where the neon lights buzzed with promise and the air was always chilled by industrial fans.
Instead, I pulled out a cigarette, one of my last vices, kept in an Altoids tin labeled “emergency munitions”, and leaned against the club’s graffiti-tagged side wall, scanning for the world’s most committed stalker.
Sure enough, I spotted him. Aiden lingered across the street like a Gothic scarecrow, hands jammed in his pockets, the streetlight behind him casting a halo around his already too-perfect hair.
He looked like he belonged on a propaganda poster for What-Not-to-Date, a blend of raw danger and moody charm, with a face that could talk a nun out of her habits.
I was supposed to ignore him, I guess, or feel threatened.
Instead, an unexpected sense of comfort washed over me, and I felt a magnetic pull toward him.
With Aiden in sight, I had a clear line on where the threat lurked.
Strangely, my instincts urged me to close the distance between us, to seek refuge in his presence.
I made a show of lighting up, squinting at him through the curling smoke. “You know, if you’re going to lurk, you might as well get a trench coat and a copy of Stalker for Dummies.”
He ignored the bait. Instead, he waited for a delivery van to roll past, then crossed the street with quick, purposeful steps, stopping just shy of my personal space.
“I’m not lurking,” he said, glancing down at the cigarette. “You really shouldn’t smoke those.”
I snorted. “What’s it going to do, kill me?” I took a drag, holding his gaze. “Didn’t think passive-aggressive health tips were your style. You’re more of a ‘throw someone through a wall’ kind of guy.”
He didn’t smile. “Can we talk?”
“Can we ever?” I retorted, flicking ash onto the warm pavement. “You’ve been playing silent sentinel for weeks, Cross. If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Or keep lurking in the shadows like a brooding statue. Either way, it’s stifling out here, and I need to get home.”
He hesitated, eyes sliding to the Neon sign, then back to me. “You need to quit. This job. Neon. Tonight.”
I stared at him, unblinking, with my arms crossed. “Oh, is this where you swoop in and save the poor stripper from the big bad world? Sorry, Prince Charming, rescue’s a little late.”
He shook his head, jaw clenching. “It’s not safe.”
“It’s a strip club in Manhattan, Aiden. If I wanted safe, I’d be working at a library. Or the diner, oh wait, they don’t pay enough to feed my kid.” I crushed the cigarette under my boot and straightened. “Besides, I’m not the one with a track record for turning cocktail hour into a crime scene.”
His voice dropped. “Josie, I’m serious. You’re visible now. People, certain people, are going to notice.”
A nasty suspicion sparked in my brain. “What, the mob? Russian mafia pissed at the bouncers? Or are we talking your side of the street, moonlit maniacs and their super-secret moon club?”
He flinched, just slightly. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I laughed, but it came out a little wild.
“Try me. A month ago, the weirdest thing in my life was my neighbor’s albino ferret and the bodega guy slipping Mateo free churros.
Now? I’ve watched a man in black sip something that wasn’t wine.
I’ve faced down a pack of wolves materializing out of thin air.
And I’ve seen you, Aiden, shift, bones cracking, skin splitting, fur where a man used to be.
” I stepped closer. “So please, enlighten me. Why is dancing at Neon somehow worse than all of that?”
He started to pace, agitation tightening his movements. “It’s different now. There are rules. You’re supposed to stay out of their way, be invisible, but you’re not anymore. You’re center stage.”
I held up a hand. “Slow down. Whose rules?”
He stopped. “The Council. And people like you, humans, are not supposed to get involved, not ever. It’s not just you at risk.”
“You’re talking about Mateo.” The realization hit like a punch in the lungs. “You think someone’s going to come after him, don’t you? Why? Why my kid?”
Aiden pressed his lips together, silent. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I stepped forward, closing the gap between us. “You owe me. After everything, after that night in the park, you don’t get to keep secrets anymore.”
He looked at me then, and for a second, I thought I saw fear. Not for himself, but for me. For us.
“They know who you are now,” he said, his voice low, urgent. “If you keep dancing, if you keep lighting yourself up like a beacon, there’s only so much I can do.”
I let out a laugh that sounded too close to breaking.
“What, Aiden? Another welcome party with teeth? More wolves?” I spat the word like an insult.
I stepped closer, bitterness curling my voice.
“Or are you talking about your VIP friends, the glowing eyes, the vanishing act? The ones who look at me like I’m already theirs? ”
He made a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan. “You have no idea what’s out there.”
“Then tell me!” I was shouting now, but I didn’t care. “Stop treating me like a glass doll. I’m not going to shatter if you tell me the truth. Is it vampires? Aliens? Big Foot? Are you a werewolf? Just spill it, already!”
He closed his eyes for a moment, visibly collecting himself. When he opened them, his voice was raw. “I’m trying to keep you safe. That’s it. That’s all that matters.”
“Not good enough,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t need a knight in ripped jeans and a savior complex. I need to know if my son is in danger. If I’m in danger.”
He shook his head, something hard and final in the motion. “I’m done arguing.”
I watched him turn away, every muscle in his back rigid, and I felt a wave of helplessness so sharp it left me breathless. “You know,” I called after him, “if you wanted to protect me, you could try honesty. Maybe then I’d have a fighting chance.”
He didn’t answer. He just kept walking, shoulders hunched against the wind, until the dark swallowed him up.
I waited until his outline vanished. A cab pulled up, and I slid into the back seat, giving the driver my address. As we pulled away, I stared out the window, searching the shadows for any sign of Aiden.
There was nothing. Just a city that looked exactly the same as it had the day before, but felt, somehow, entirely different.
Tomorrow, I’d have to figure out how to survive in a world where the rules were written in secret, enforced by monsters, and ignorance was the only thing that kept you safe.
But tonight, I just let myself sit in the dark and pretended I could still go back to the way things were.
Even if I knew, I never could.