*
I woke up screaming, my tank top and sheets soaked with sweat. The images were still flashing like a slide show in my head. All I could see was the tortured look on the man’s face. The fear and the grief as the plane spun and plummeted. I gripped my hair in my hands and yanked, as if the action would wipe out the memories forged into nightmares. And still I screamed.
When my voice gave out from the strain, I crawled out of bed, my stomach churning. The clock on the nightstand read five in the morning. At least I could justify getting up. I hoped the walls were soundproof, or my neighbor would think I was being tortured. Or insane. Both were not far from the truth.
A small light illuminated the bathroom. I turned on the tap and splashed cold water on my face, waiting for the nausea to pass. It didn’t. The contents of my stomach spewed into the sink; the taste of vodka made me retch again. When I was capable of moving, I pushed up on weak arms and met my reflection in the mirror. The ugliness had forced its way from the inside out. My fingernails pressed hard into my palms, but the pain barely registered. Despair made the ache inside unbearable. I slammed my fist into the glass, shattering my image. Now it matched the rest of me.
3
HAYDEN
I woke up on Saturday morning with a mild hangover, already late for work. Lisa had left me a message more than twenty minutes earlier.
When I walked in, she was sitting at the desk, browsing the latest ink magazine, checking off things she wanted to order. She glanced pointedly at the clock. “How is it possible to be late when you live above the shop?” The question was rhetorical, because she didn’t wait for an answer. “Fortunately, your first appointment isn’t for another hour. Go get me a latte. Chris called and said he won’t be in until one. He’s feeling worn out.” Lisa’s eyes shifted to me, gauging my response.
We both knew what that meant. He must have found a chick to hook up with after I left the bar. From the look on Lisa’s face, she didn’t approve of his choice, which wasn’t much of a surprise. For the most part, his taste wasn’t very discerning. Female and breathing were typically sufficient criteria.
“Good for him.”
“How was your night? You left early.”
I could hear the hint of potential disappointment. She hadn’t seen what had happened with Tenley, so as far as she knew, I’d done the same as Chris. I hadn’t. I’d drained my beer and followed Tenley out of the bar.
“Not nearly as exciting as Chris’s. I wasn’t feeling the scene, so I called it a night.”
By the time I’d gotten outside, Tenley had disappeared. Despite the urge to go back into the bar and find the fuckwad who’d put his hands on her, I’d walked home instead. When I’d gotten there, I’d been relieved to find the lights on in Tenley’s apartment right above Serendipity and her silhouette moving around behind the curtains. I still didn’t like that she’d walked home alone.
Lisa gave me a pensive look.
As little as six months ago, I might have engaged in similar behavior as Chris’s, although I liked to think I had better standards than he did. It had been a long time since I’d brought a random home. It was the awkward postorgasm kick-out that posed the biggest problem. No one stayed the night in my bed. Hell, no woman I brought home even saw my bed. The couch, the floor, the wall; they were all fair game, but my bedroom was mine.
Lisa was sensitive about casual hookups. I assumed it reminded her too much of her days at The Dollhouse, when it wasn’t just lap dances that were for sale. Lines got crossed in that business all the time until there weren’t any left. Lisa had only waitressed there, but even that job could entail more than serving drinks. I didn’t like to upset her or make life difficult for Jamie, so I refrained from pulling that kind of crap when she was around. Chris wasn’t perceptive enough to realize how it affected her.
“I’ll be back in five.” I left to get her latte before she had a chance to ask more questions I didn’t want to answer.
I crossed the street to Serendipity. Tenley was working today. I hoped I would get a chance to find out if she was okay. The bell above the door chimed as I entered the store. No Tenley in sight.
“Hayden!” Cassie greeted me from behind the counter. She was half hidden behind a pile of books. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, telling me she was glad to see me. At twelve years my senior, she was more of a friend than an aunt, but she was still the closest thing I would ever have to a mother again.
“Hey.” I leaned over the counter and dropped a kiss on her cheek, then surveyed the stack of books: all classics. “How’s it going?”