walk around the old neighborhood, trying to find anything, anything at all that I recognize. I keep seeing crazy condos and hipster bars and white guys my age dressed up to look like Kanye but looking instead like characters from a Dr. Seuss book or something, and I just keep hearing her say: Lie to me. Lie to me, Marcus .
Yeah, I know what that’s about. You don’t have to be a shrink to figure that one out. I ended up lying to Harlow a bunch when she needed me to, and now I’m circling in, walking in orbit around where I know Harlow Chase to be at this very moment, because I have to go do it again. I have to lie to her in order to save her.
Should be easier this time around, right?
***
I walk into the bar where she works, The Alley, and I swear to God it’s another world. All those Dr. Seuss looking guys I saw out on the street are actually in here, in this bar, drinking whiskey and laughing too loudly at each other’s jokes. There’s a stage. There’s a woman on the stage, and she’s doing burlesque or something.
Man, if you had told me five years ago what would happen to the neighborhood, I’d have tried to get you to put money on it and then I would have laughed and called you a chump.
But they all seem to be having fun, so to each his own. It is different than I remember, that’s all.
I wander for a while, my whole body tense, knowing she’s close. And then there, behind the bar: Harlow.
Jesus.
So. Fucking. Beautiful.
My world goes from black and white to color, from dead and dull to alive and intense. It’s almost too much, like my entire nervous system clicks on at once, every nerve firing at maximum capacity, telling me to get the hell over there and claim her. Because she is mine, she was always meant to be mine, and I’ll be hers even when she hates me.
I kept it under control these past five years just by being away from her, but now that I’ve seen her, it’s done. There’s no going back. She’s all I can think about. All I breathe. All I want. And there’s nothing left in me I care about except what I can be for her.
I forget all about my job. I forget all about how dangerous Alex Wolfe will be if he doesn’t get what he wants. I forget about everything except what I need to do for Harlow.
Fuck, I want her.
My muscles are coiled up tight with the effort of holding back, because the truth is I know I have to earn it. That’s fine. That’s as it should be. I’m not afraid of hard work. But my blood burns me and my bones feel like they’ll crack under the pressure, because everything in my primal being knows where I should be right now. And it’s not watching her from far away.
I should have been here all along.
And instead I have to watch her frown down at her phone, have to watch her face fall in that faint blue light, fall in that way I haven’t seen in years. And then some asshole in a skull cap is right on top of her at the bar, hollering at her, hassling her, trying to flirt like he doesn’t see or doesn’t care that she obviously just got some very bad news.
What is wrong with people?
I don’t consciously walk over to the bar. It’s like I’m there instantaneously, grabbing Skull Cap’s arm, pulling him back and away from her. He tries to yank his arm free and it makes me smile.
“Hey, what’s your problem?” he asks me.
I stare down at him, rolling my shoulders, feeling the weight of all that muscle I spent years earning.
“Go. Somewhere. Else,” I say.
He looks like he maybe thinks about arguing, but not for very long. He looks into my chest, his eye level, then slowly looks up. Then he mumbles something that sounds like an apology and disappears back into the crowd.
I’m a big guy.
I straighten my tie and turn, finally, to Harlow. She’s staring at me with her mouth open, having no idea how beautiful she is even when she’s annoyed.
“Are you kidding me?” she says.
I grin at her. “Me? Have you seen the people in this bar? Or out
Yeah, I know what that’s about. You don’t have to be a shrink to figure that one out. I ended up lying to Harlow a bunch when she needed me to, and now I’m circling in, walking in orbit around where I know Harlow Chase to be at this very moment, because I have to go do it again. I have to lie to her in order to save her.
Should be easier this time around, right?
***
I walk into the bar where she works, The Alley, and I swear to God it’s another world. All those Dr. Seuss looking guys I saw out on the street are actually in here, in this bar, drinking whiskey and laughing too loudly at each other’s jokes. There’s a stage. There’s a woman on the stage, and she’s doing burlesque or something.
Man, if you had told me five years ago what would happen to the neighborhood, I’d have tried to get you to put money on it and then I would have laughed and called you a chump.
But they all seem to be having fun, so to each his own. It is different than I remember, that’s all.
I wander for a while, my whole body tense, knowing she’s close. And then there, behind the bar: Harlow.
Jesus.
So. Fucking. Beautiful.
My world goes from black and white to color, from dead and dull to alive and intense. It’s almost too much, like my entire nervous system clicks on at once, every nerve firing at maximum capacity, telling me to get the hell over there and claim her. Because she is mine, she was always meant to be mine, and I’ll be hers even when she hates me.
I kept it under control these past five years just by being away from her, but now that I’ve seen her, it’s done. There’s no going back. She’s all I can think about. All I breathe. All I want. And there’s nothing left in me I care about except what I can be for her.
I forget all about my job. I forget all about how dangerous Alex Wolfe will be if he doesn’t get what he wants. I forget about everything except what I need to do for Harlow.
Fuck, I want her.
My muscles are coiled up tight with the effort of holding back, because the truth is I know I have to earn it. That’s fine. That’s as it should be. I’m not afraid of hard work. But my blood burns me and my bones feel like they’ll crack under the pressure, because everything in my primal being knows where I should be right now. And it’s not watching her from far away.
I should have been here all along.
And instead I have to watch her frown down at her phone, have to watch her face fall in that faint blue light, fall in that way I haven’t seen in years. And then some asshole in a skull cap is right on top of her at the bar, hollering at her, hassling her, trying to flirt like he doesn’t see or doesn’t care that she obviously just got some very bad news.
What is wrong with people?
I don’t consciously walk over to the bar. It’s like I’m there instantaneously, grabbing Skull Cap’s arm, pulling him back and away from her. He tries to yank his arm free and it makes me smile.
“Hey, what’s your problem?” he asks me.
I stare down at him, rolling my shoulders, feeling the weight of all that muscle I spent years earning.
“Go. Somewhere. Else,” I say.
He looks like he maybe thinks about arguing, but not for very long. He looks into my chest, his eye level, then slowly looks up. Then he mumbles something that sounds like an apology and disappears back into the crowd.
I’m a big guy.
I straighten my tie and turn, finally, to Harlow. She’s staring at me with her mouth open, having no idea how beautiful she is even when she’s annoyed.
“Are you kidding me?” she says.
I grin at her. “Me? Have you seen the people in this bar? Or out
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