- Chapter Thirteen -

Zoe

Staring out the window, I twisted my fingers in the bottom of my jacket. I'd been dressed and ready to go for over an hour. Huck wasn't late, I was just beyond nervous.

What am I thinking? I can't do this.

Pacing the tiles, I studied my feet, hid my hands in my pockets. If I folded into a tiny ball, tried hard enough, could I vanish into thin air?

Stop being a coward.

Telling yourself things like that should work. It never does.

“Hey,” Eliza said, standing in the kitchen doorway. “You okay?”

Peeking at her over my shoulder, I smiled softly. “Not at all.”

She swept into the room, looking beautiful as ever. Eliza had a natural air of—I don't know the word. Grace? Something like that. She just moved and spoke and acted as if nothing could ever touch her. No one could hurt her.

Though... I knew that wasn't true. Just recently, I'd scratched my way accidentally into her history. Eliza had a past that she feared people would judge her for.

A past just like Huxton's.

And in a way... a past just like mine.

She stood beside me, staring out the window at the curb. “Waiting for Huck?” she asked, knowing the answer. I still nodded, anyway. “You're anxious about something.”

“No, no.”

Pushing her eyebrows up, she looked pointedly over my outfit. “Then why do you have your jacket on already?”

Putting my fingers against the top clasp by my neck, I smiled shyly. “Clever. Okay, yes. I'm nervous. Today, I'm... doing something I'm not sure about.”

Eliza looked past me, back out the window. “Something that you're scared to show Huck?”

“Insanely scared.”

“I don't think you need to worry about what he'll think.”

My lips crinkled together. “What?”

Sliding me a sideways glance, Eliza sounded like she was musing out loud. “Well, I don't know what you're doing, exactly, but... if you're scared, imagine how terrified he must have been when he told you what he does for a living.”

So he told her that I know. It wasn't that shocking. They were friends, it would have come up eventually. It also meant that she had known he was an escort. I felt a little dumb, but I'd only just connected those dots. “You think he was scared?”

“Of course he was! If I was freaking out, how could he not?” Pausing, she drummed her fingernails on the windowsill. “Why...”

“Why?” I prompted.

“Why are you alright with it? I mean, sorry, not trying to sound judgmental.” Lifting her palms, she waved her fingers in surrender. “I just... I thought you would be horrified by my news, and you did seem shocked. But you're sleeping with Huck, right?”

My blush went all the way to my hairline. I wasn't embarrassed at the reality, I just didn't appreciate her blunt observation. “You don't know everything about me, Eliza. I don't blame people for their pasts.”

She set her forehead on the glass. Her reflection was much like her voice; frail, hardly there. “This isn't his past, it's his present. He still has clients, Zoe.”

A motorcycle rumbled loudly. Both of us looked, spotting Huck when he rolled up. He didn't turn the bike off. Clearly, he was waiting for me to go to him. I appreciated that, it was a nice escape from Eliza's probing.

I had a suspicion that she was... envious. She'd enjoyed escorting, or some parts of it, she'd said. But in the end, she'd quit. Did she feel it was unfair that Huck could get away with putting his dirty laundry in front of me, having his cake and eating it too?

Eliza couldn't know how desperate I was to prove that the past didn't matter. Mistakes, flaws... couldn't we be forgiven for them?

Outside, the Harley snarled; expectant. Heading for the door, I glanced back at Eliza. She was staring at me, so many questions in the air between us.

Lifting my chin, I left with one final sentence;

“According to him, at least for now... the only client he has is me.”

Hugging his torso, I wrapped myself around Huck and never wanted to let go.

I'd told him where we were headed. He'd nodded, speeding us to the location far faster than I could reach on my own. That was part of what took me so long yesterday; public transport is a bitch.

The whole sky was the color of ash, thick and waiting to drench us. We hadn't had rain in sometime, but I thought, if it fell today, it'd be appropriate.

Huxton slowed his bike, turning into the small parking lot. We weren't far from the bustle of Beverly Hills, and I could see the confusion plain on his face. “This is it?” he asked, staring up at the beige building.

Climbing down from behind him, I said, “Yeah, we're here.” Am I honestly going to do this? It didn't seem possible to turn back, but if I just faced Huck and pleaded with him, said I'd changed my mind, maybe... maybe he'd listen.

Twisting, I gazed up at his intense green eyes. They ripped the ability to speak from my tongue, made it so I couldn't find my footing.

His hands curled around the small of my back. “Zoe, it'll be fine. I can tell you're freaking out, but really... believe me. It's okay.”

It was nice of him to say that, but he had no idea.

My lips went up on one side, then the other matched, like I'd just remembered how to make myself smile. “Did you bring the truffles?”

Digging into his pocket, he handed me the bag.

Taking a single, slow breath, I led us towards the front doors. When we got close, Huck started searching for a sign. He wanted to know where we were. This place liked privacy, so unfortunately for him, he'd have to wait to learn.

Inside the foyer, there was a simple, curved desk. Everything had a sanitary shine. Christmas decoration stuck here and there, a tree lighting up the corner. There were two people in chairs, facing away, wrapped in blankets.

The man behind the counter smiled at me, eyes lighting with recognition. His tag said 'Hershel,' but I already knew that. “Miss Lillith, you're back so soon. Is something wrong?”

“No, everything's fine.” Tossing a quick glance at Huck, who had stuck his hands in his jeans and looked too casual for the atmosphere, I said, “We'll be going straight up. Is it okay?”

Sliding me a clipboard, Hershel's smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Of course. She'll be very happy to see you.”

Swallowing loudly, I scribbled my name down. “Thanks.” Motioning to Huxton, I guided him into the elevator. It was wide, roomy. Still, we stood hip to hip. It was a silent ride. I think he was beginning to understand that this place was... important.

The doors slid open with a 'ding.' Turning, I hefted the truffles, let the weight of them center me. I wasn't sure what was about to happen. I couldn't predict how Huck would take the news.

Sweat soaked my palms. Wiping my hands on my jacket did nothing. “Here we are,” I croaked, stopping in front of a door. The hallway was quiet, a single woman at the end rolling a cart.

Looking at Huck, I tried to see into his head. He wasn't smiling, he'd put on an expression that welled with empathy. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

Was I okay?

How could I be okay, with what I was about to tell him?

He has to know. It's only right. And, when it was over, if he thought I was as terrible as I did... maybe he would leave.

The idea turned my stomach and made me ill. I never answered him. Tucking my chin, I grabbed the handle and opened the door.

She was perched on the edge of her bed, facing the window. The light made her white hair look like a halo, and to me, she was saintly enough to deserve it. They'd dressed her in a long sweater, soft baby blue.

Everything about this woman was gentle.