“What do you mean, Kass?” She looks around the room nervously, and that single gesture puts my nerves on high alert. What does she have to be afraid of? “Are you worried about something, babe?”
“A little,” she admits, leaning toward me, “I’ve only overheard snippets of specifics, but I think that the club has gotten some new information about Sam’s death.”
“I thought...it was an accident?” I say, heartstrings twisting painfully at the mention of my bearded friend.
“That’s what everyone thought at first,” Kassie goes on, “He was with some guys from another club the Nine have always been friendly with. No one thought anything of it, just took their word about what happened. No reason not to. But I don’t think that’s the case, anymore. I don’t know any details, but the club is taking another look at what happened to Sam. And I’m not sure that the truth is quite so innocent.”
“Do the guys think that Sam was...murdered?” I ask, my voice small.
“I have no idea,” Kassie says, remarkably calm. I have to remind myself that this is a girl who is more accustomed to death than I. I may have partied and slept around harder than her, but she’s been through some real shit. And it sounds like there’s more of the same coming her way, now that she’s involved with this club.
“Have you talked to Declan about this?” I ask, “If someone really did attack Sam, then anyone related to Dante’s Nine could be in danger, right?”
“I’ve tried to ask him about it,” Kassie says, “But he’s holding out for exactly that reason, to keep me out of danger. He probably thinks that the less I know, the safer I’ll be.”
“And what do you think?” I press.
“I think...” she begins, “That I’m still figuring out what my role is, in this club. I have to follow his lead on this one.”
“Christ, Kass,” I breathe, leaning back against the couch, “Never a dull moment for you, is there?”
“God no,” she laughs, “But imagine how boring it would be if there was one?”
We stay up together until the sun begins to rise over Sin City. There’s a lot to catch up on, after all. It’s only been a matter of weeks, but still. I definitely took my constant access to a good listener for granted during grad school. Kassie’s always been the person who’s understood me better than anyone else, even my own blood sisters. There’s certainly never been a man in my life who’s known what I need the way she does. I can’t imagine that there will ever be one, actually.
I don’t know when I doze off, exactly; only that I jerk back to consciousness as I hear the front door open. I peer through the early morning sunlight, confused for a moment about where I am. Kassie and I have passed out together on the couch, two bottles of wine gone between us. I pull myself up to sitting as heavy footsteps tread across the apartment. Declan’s arrived home, at last. He doesn’t even notice me sitting in his living room, at first. His entire body is stiff with tension, his handsome face twisted into knots. I’m almost afraid to say hello to him in this state. He looks like a man on the warpath—and I’d prefer to stay out of his way.
But no such luck. My movement catches his eye. Declan jerks his gaze my way, and I’m alarmed to see the violence shining through those piercing baby blues of his. His anger leaves me speechless. It isn’t until he recognizes me that his expression softens, if only a hair.
“Kelly,” he says, “What are you doing here?”
“I...um...came to visit.”
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Oh...Kassie didn’t tell you?” I ask softly.
“No,” he says, his expression unreadable, “No, she didn’t mention that.”
“It was sort of sudden,” I say apologetically.
“It’s...fine,” he says, staring at me hard, “Are you staying for a while?”
Oh god. This is not the conversation I want to be having with him right now. I was hoping that Kassie would have broken the news to him, but I guess she didn’t have time. It looks like he’s been out all night. He looks flushed, beat, and bitter.
“Kassie invited me to come work for CrowdedNest,” I say, trying to keep my voice chipper, “And, um, maybe crash in the other suite? Just for a while.”
A long moment of silence unfolds between us. I find myself growing unaccountably alarmed. Declan digests this news, stony and silent. When he finally does speak, his voice is low and restrained.
“I’m going to get some sleep.”
And just like that, he walks away. My heart is beating like a hammer in the wake of our terse exchange. If I thought that something seemed different about Kassie, then Declan is an entirely changed man. What the hell is that about?
Shaking, I lift myself off of the couch and pad across the apartment, out into the hallway. I cross to the door with the golden “B” and ease open the door, relieved to find it unlocked. I step into my new home and close the door tightly behind me. I feel like I need to barricade myself against whatever madness Declan’s carried home with him.
I look around my new digs. The place looks just the way it did during my last visit. This will be my little island, my safe haven against all the chaos that rages on beyond these walls. I take a deep breath, calming some. Nothing can hurt me if I don’t let it. Whatever happens, wherever I am, I’m in control. I’ve always been proud to take care of myself, and that’s not going to change now.
Collapsing into my huge new bed, I resolve to settle into my new place. After I sleep off this bottle of wine, that is.
Chapter Three
It takes me a good solid week to get settled in my new place. After unloading my carful of hastily-grabbed belongings and stocking the kitchen with enough espresso to fully caffeinate a small country, it’s time to get down to business. Kassie wants me to come on board as a senior developer for her website, so I’ve got a bit of catching up to do. I know that she’s my best friend, but I’m not going to slack because of that. I’m going to do a kickass job for CrowdedNest. Who knows? Maybe if it takes off, we’ll be billionaires in our own right, Declan Tiberi aside.
Kassie and I spend every waking minute together, this first week. Working out or swimming in the mornings, talking through her business model, hitting up happy hour—it feels a lot like being back in grad school together. Expect now our playground is Vegas, not Berkeley; and our nights consist of hitting up fancy restaurants and clubs, not chowing down on pizza while stoned out of our minds. I guess there’s something to be said for growing up.