Hard to Love

13. Laura

Seventeen. I keep thinking about the number and checking every plate that drives by the Club as I sit here in the front corner booth. I swear the worn amber leather smells like smoke. Everything smells like smoke still. Even after I washed up and put on clothes that had been tucked in drawers at Seth's house for a year now.

All I smell is smoke.

Another car rides by and it's not black, it's a dark red SUV, but I still check its plate. I've been doing this all day. I don't need to find its owner though, not if what Derrick said in the hospital is true. Still, I watch, I check. I'm on guard and trapped here in this booth.

Seth doesn't want me to leave the Club; I think he's having Roman keep an eye on me.

I'll be better when they find that car. I remember that feeling I had. Why didn't I listen to it? Gut instincts happen for a reason. That air of danger was meant to warn me. I know it deep down. And yet, I couldn't even remember more than two numbers. It's okay though, if what Derrick said is right.

Cami's voice jostles me from my thoughts about last night. "Hey, you good?"

"Yeah," I answer her as quickly as I can. I have to clear my throat and take a drink of the Sprite she set down in front of me.

"Ugh," I groan and nearly spit it out, not expecting the strong taste of vodka. With the back of my hand over my mouth, I barely keep it down.

"I thought you liked vodka?"

"You spiked it?"

"You need a drink," she says, emphasizing the word need before sitting down next to me. The seat groans and I watch another car go by. It's black this time, but another SUV and not a sedan. Still, my heart starts to race, pounding against my rib cage. I want them to find whoever it was so I can stop worrying that he'll come back. That's what it comes down to. I fucking hate this feeling that claws at me.

"I know you're shaken up," Cami says, trying to soothe me. She has no idea. I have no intention of telling her that it wasn't an accident. She doesn't need that worry in her life. But I wish I had my friend to confide in.

As she consoles me, telling me the insurance company will pay out and how she's certain some things will be able to be recovered from the house, I wonder if this is what Seth feels like when I try to talk to him after a hard day. Her hand lands on my knee under the table and she looks at me with wide, innocent eyes. "It's going to be okay," she tells me like she means it. Like she knows for sure it will.

I've heard it so many times. It's going to be okay. It never is.

"I hope so," I answer her weakly.

She pats my knee, giving me a sweet smile.

"You know it will," she says with a raised brow, and a look on her face that says, we're choosing to be positive.

In this moment, I almost want to tell her the truth just so I can see that look fall.

I want to tell her how I told Seth about the black sedan and how Derrick knew right away who it belonged to, or at least he thinks he does. I want to tell her all this shit happened because of the men we love. Dumb for dick. It's a saying Cami has when certain women come into this bar. We are dumb for dick.

That would take that smile right off Cami's face and wake her up about who she's dating.

All the snide thoughts ping-pong around my head and I know they're only there because I bit my tongue when Seth leaned down to kiss me before he left. I didn't have the words to give him last night. I felt it all bottled up, but nothing would come. This morning though, I'm full of plenty of words. They aren't meant for Cami though.