new version of normal, there would be plenty of time to think about Alex and Mitch. Or not. Meanwhile, she had to find a place that sold ski masks in the middle of summer.
The tingle hit again. She smiled.
THE YMCA SPEAKERS were playing dance crap, but Alex had headphones on the Hold Steady singing how some nights the painkillers made the pain even worse. He leaned back on the bench, hands behind to catch the bar. He pressed it firm and smooth off the cradle and started his third set, the grip rough against his hands, timing each move to his breath, down slow, up smooth, no wavering or wobbling. The first ten were easy, the second ten a strain. He thought of the phone call from Trish, of her new husband moving to Arizona. And what was he supposed to do? Hang out here in a shitty apartment? Move to the desert, trailing after his ex-wife and her new husband like a puppy? Give up his daughter?
No. Lift. Goddamn. Lower. Way. Lift.
Working out calmed him, burned off the stress. He was in the mood to hit it hard, tear all his muscles and wake up with that good, deep ache, but tomorrow night was too important to be slow or hurting. He limited himself to another half hour, then showered and walked home through summer streets.
“Alex.”
The voice came from the darkness behind him, and he spun, the gym bag slipping from his shoulder. Squinted. “Mitch?”
The man stepped away from the tree he’d been leaning against. “We need to talk.”
“Jesus, you scared me.” He bent for the bag. “Come on up.”
“No.” There was something unfamiliar in his tone. “I’m not staying. You and me, we have to clear something up. I know what you’ve been doing.”
“Huh?”
“With Jenn.”
Shit. He thought they’d been careful, had kept it from everyone. Not that it mattered, exactly, but it had just seemed simpler to not make an issue of it. Jenn might fool herself, but he could see the size of the torch Mitch carried. The kid went all fifth-grade anytime she blinked.
Still, why bring it up now? Unless . . . double shit. If Mitch knew about him and Jenn, he might back out of tomorrow night. If he did, the others might too. The whole thing could fall apart. “Listen—”
“No, you listen. I know you think you’re the big man, our fearless leader, but that’s bullshit. And I’m tired of you treating me like I don’t exist.”
“What are you—”
“Using her to get me involved. You knew that I wouldn’t let her go in there with just Ian to protect her, and you used that.”
“Mitch—”
“Admit it.”
Alex sighed. “Yeah.”
“That ends now. All of it. Trying to tell me what’s what, that there’s no changing my mind, that everything runs the way you want. Johnny Love may be your boss, but you aren’t mine, or hers.” Mitch stepped closer, his face hollowed out by the streetlight above. “You think you’re such hot shit? You’re a bartender, Alex. A bartender who can’t pay child support.”
Confusion was turning to anger. “Watch it.”
“Or what? You’ll kick my ass? This isn’t middle school. I’m smarter than you. And you need me tomorrow, and afterward.”
“Look, ease up. I didn’t mean any harm. I just needed your help, man.”
“Yeah, well, I’m tired of being ignored, man . Tired of you thinking you’re better than all of us. I’m going tomorrow night. But I’m not doing it for you, and I’m not doing it because you manipulated me. I’m doing it for me. And yeah, because I’m worried about Jenn. Something you ought to be as well.”
“I am.”
“Bullshit. You’re only thinking of yourself.”
“I’m doing this for my daughter.”
“She’s not my daughter.”
Alex took a deep breath. He had the strongest urge to tell Mitch where to cram the tough-guy act. But he couldn’t risk it. Everything depended on tomorrow night. “Is that it?”
“One more thing. You ever try to play me like that again, you ever lie to me, and we’re through. At very
The tingle hit again. She smiled.
THE YMCA SPEAKERS were playing dance crap, but Alex had headphones on the Hold Steady singing how some nights the painkillers made the pain even worse. He leaned back on the bench, hands behind to catch the bar. He pressed it firm and smooth off the cradle and started his third set, the grip rough against his hands, timing each move to his breath, down slow, up smooth, no wavering or wobbling. The first ten were easy, the second ten a strain. He thought of the phone call from Trish, of her new husband moving to Arizona. And what was he supposed to do? Hang out here in a shitty apartment? Move to the desert, trailing after his ex-wife and her new husband like a puppy? Give up his daughter?
No. Lift. Goddamn. Lower. Way. Lift.
Working out calmed him, burned off the stress. He was in the mood to hit it hard, tear all his muscles and wake up with that good, deep ache, but tomorrow night was too important to be slow or hurting. He limited himself to another half hour, then showered and walked home through summer streets.
“Alex.”
The voice came from the darkness behind him, and he spun, the gym bag slipping from his shoulder. Squinted. “Mitch?”
The man stepped away from the tree he’d been leaning against. “We need to talk.”
“Jesus, you scared me.” He bent for the bag. “Come on up.”
“No.” There was something unfamiliar in his tone. “I’m not staying. You and me, we have to clear something up. I know what you’ve been doing.”
“Huh?”
“With Jenn.”
Shit. He thought they’d been careful, had kept it from everyone. Not that it mattered, exactly, but it had just seemed simpler to not make an issue of it. Jenn might fool herself, but he could see the size of the torch Mitch carried. The kid went all fifth-grade anytime she blinked.
Still, why bring it up now? Unless . . . double shit. If Mitch knew about him and Jenn, he might back out of tomorrow night. If he did, the others might too. The whole thing could fall apart. “Listen—”
“No, you listen. I know you think you’re the big man, our fearless leader, but that’s bullshit. And I’m tired of you treating me like I don’t exist.”
“What are you—”
“Using her to get me involved. You knew that I wouldn’t let her go in there with just Ian to protect her, and you used that.”
“Mitch—”
“Admit it.”
Alex sighed. “Yeah.”
“That ends now. All of it. Trying to tell me what’s what, that there’s no changing my mind, that everything runs the way you want. Johnny Love may be your boss, but you aren’t mine, or hers.” Mitch stepped closer, his face hollowed out by the streetlight above. “You think you’re such hot shit? You’re a bartender, Alex. A bartender who can’t pay child support.”
Confusion was turning to anger. “Watch it.”
“Or what? You’ll kick my ass? This isn’t middle school. I’m smarter than you. And you need me tomorrow, and afterward.”
“Look, ease up. I didn’t mean any harm. I just needed your help, man.”
“Yeah, well, I’m tired of being ignored, man . Tired of you thinking you’re better than all of us. I’m going tomorrow night. But I’m not doing it for you, and I’m not doing it because you manipulated me. I’m doing it for me. And yeah, because I’m worried about Jenn. Something you ought to be as well.”
“I am.”
“Bullshit. You’re only thinking of yourself.”
“I’m doing this for my daughter.”
“She’s not my daughter.”
Alex took a deep breath. He had the strongest urge to tell Mitch where to cram the tough-guy act. But he couldn’t risk it. Everything depended on tomorrow night. “Is that it?”
“One more thing. You ever try to play me like that again, you ever lie to me, and we’re through. At very
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