Page 108 of Heart Over Heels

“I beg your pardon?”

“I saw what you did to the club,” I said, clenching the fingers of my free hand. “If you need anything else from there—information, access, whatever—I can’t help you. They fired me.”

Banned me.

Broke me.

Antonella made a pitying sound. “That is unfortunate, but timely since your work forusis done as well.”

It should have been good news, but I couldn’t enjoy it. I could barely receive it as I closed my eyes and swallowed against the bile burning its way up my throat.

“If you want to gloat, consider it done,” I muttered. “You got what you wanted, now leave me the hell alone.”

“Careful, soldier.” Her voice dropped low. “You wouldn’t want to sound ungrateful after everything I’ve done for you.”

Heat flooded my face. “You haven’t done anything for me besides threaten my kid and ruin my life.”

“On the contrary, Mister James,” the angel hissed. “Isparedyou. Retribution is coming for the sinners, and you have been set apart.”

I could picture her pale, colorless eyes boring into me.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I demanded.

“It means,” she said almost tenderly. “Stay away from the Dollhouse. Stay away from the demons. Your part in this is over.”

The line went dead.

I stood in the parking lot as night descended and the lights kicked on overhead. My pulse thrummed in my ears, and the phone hung limp at my side.

I didn’t know if I wanted to throw the thing or use it to call Darby and beg.

Ultimately, I did neither, instead shoving it back in my pocket and walking toward the Post building.

The faint waft of mildew hit me before I reached the door. Inside, I paused and let my eyes adjust to the dim light and the broad swaths of brown everything. With one slow sweep of the room, I spotted what I was searching for.

Reliable Earl and Frank occupied stools at the bar counter, anchoring the place like they always had. Frank with his weathered conductor hat tilted low over his eyes, and Earl in his faded denim jacket patched with old service insignia. The sight of them hit me harder than I expected, and tears pricked my eyes.

I picked up the pace, boots thudding against the linoleum. I hadn’t been back here since Bingo night. Since Darby rushed out, and I chased after him, offering apologies and half explanations.

I slid onto the stool nearest them and signaled the bartender. “Whatever’s on tap,” I told him. My voice came out smooth, scraped clean of everything but exhaustion.

Frank was the first to notice me. His face split into a grin, deep creases carving through weathered skin. “Well, I’ll be damned. Look what the cat dragged in.”

Earl turned, eyes crinkling behind his bifocals. “About time you showed your face, son. We were starting to think you’d run off to Mexico.”

I huffed a weak laugh. “Would’ve, if I’d had the gas money.”

The bartender set a pint in front of me, honey gold liquid with a thick cap of foam. I took it with both hands and curled my fingers around the chilled mug.

Earl took a sip of his beer then tipped his chin toward me with a wink. “How’s your friend?”

Jack snorted from the next stool over. “I think he was more than a friend from the way you were pawin’ on him.”

I stared into my drink, watching the bubbles rise and break against the glass. “He’s not very happy with me right now.”

“Oh?” Jack cocked a brow. “Why’s that?”

Darby’s voice resonated in the back of my head, tart and tremulous.