had spontaneously combusted this morning. It’s a harmless lie on the surface, but it set the groundwork for my fragile confidence. I’m ready for anything.
Yeah, I finally reply. The battery died, remember?
Sweat slicks my palms as I wait for a response. A heartbeat later, my phone vibrates with an incoming message.
Call me then.
Enjoy Santa Barbara, I insist. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine without you for just one night.
Call me, Hannah. Now.
I sigh and bring the phone to my ear. It barely has the chance to ring before someone picks up on the other end. “How are you doing?” my brother demands.
“I’m fine, Branden.” I try my best to keep the strain from my voice. “Now enjoy your vacation. Promise—”
“I can barely hear you…” Static disrupts his words. I just get shouted snippets. “What the hell is that noise?”
“N-Noise?” My heart stops beating. As if from miles away, I interpret the music pulsing in the distance. Crap. He must be able to hear it even through the phone. Turning, I spot a nearby alley and hurry down the cramped space until a dumpster blocks my path. At least here, some of the noise fades.
“Sorry, I was…watching something on the television,” I say, cupping my hand around the receiver. “I turned the volume down.”
“You think you can live by yourself in an apartment and have the TV that loud?”
I grit my teeth at the disapproval in his tone. “It’s not that big of a deal, Bran. I’m sorry—”
“Take a picture,” he demands. “Right now. Your cell phone seems to be working okay if you can’t use the webcam. I need to see your smile.”
“Branden.” I’m blinking too rapidly to ignore the prickling sensation building behind my eyes. It’s such a stupid reason to cry. I’ve prepared for this, too.
“Just one,” he goads in that tone that makes the outrageous sound reasonable. Sane. “So that I can make sure you’re safe.”
“I’m honestly fine,” I whisper in a half-hearted attempt to placate his paranoia.
More static rattles the feed from his end as if he pulled the phone from his ear. “Kaitlin! Pack up. We’re heading back tonight—”
“Fine.” Sighing, I hold up my cell phone and take a picture of the brick wall before me. The shutter sound echoes loudly enough for him to hear it. “Cheese,” I mutter as I flick through my recent photos and select the one I took right before leaving my apartment. My finger shakes as I hit send. “Satisfied?” I ask, knowing that within seconds he’ll be able to see the image—me, supposedly safe and sound, lounging on the couch in my pj’s while smiling wide.
“I’m just looking out for you, Han,” he finally replies. “I still don’t get why you left. I’m just trying to protect you. You know that. And I’m sorry…for what happened the other day. You should have told me you weren’t coming sooner.” His voice hardens the way it does when he’s thinking too long and too hard. Usually, about the past and all the ways I’ve screwed up under his watch before.
“I just want you to enjoy this time with Kaitlin,” I croak. “That’s all.”
In theory, my moving out was supposed to be our chance to start over. Put some distance between us. Cut the cord…
If anything, he’s started to strangle me with it.
Only because he loves me. He does.
“Night, Bran.” I know better than to hang up until he grunts out a muttered goodbye. Only then can I rest assured that he won’t show up outside my apartment in the middle of the night.
Hopefully.
But I’ve survived, and as I return my phone to my bag, I refocus on the task at hand—not chickening out of my—technically first—night out with a real live friend. Ever.
Not even Branden can make me turn back now.
Squaring my shoulders, I face the club entrance, no less intimidated by the sight of the line than I was before.
What had Mara called this place? Eccentric. “It’s the best! Really grunge. The kind of place where you’ll find an underground DJ as often as a drug dealer.”
Fortunately for me, there don’t seem to be any drug dealers among the scantily dressed women and men who make up the bulk of the line—not that I would honestly know the difference. Still, something won’t let me scurry from the alley and join them just yet.
Fear? Branden isn’t the only reason I’m hesitant to go headlong into a nightclub, in a strange neighborhood with a “friend” I’ve admittedly only known for