But his eyes looked glassy now. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a book. He held it up to me so I could read the title, but we were so close that he nearly smacked me in the face with it. “Have you read this?”
Damaged Hearts. I shook my head. “Never heard of it.”
His smile turned apologetic. “You’re in it.”
Poe made himself at home in my library. He spread out, his feet crossed on the red, velvet fabric of the couch. I cracked open two beers and we sipped while he read passages from the book outloud.Damaged Heartswas, apparently, a tell-all novel written by Poe’s sister-in-law. It revealed all the sordid details of his secret relationship with her. Since they’d played at the Seekers Club, the club was a major figure in the book.
Poe hooked the book between his fingers, reading dramatically, “The club owner, a neurotic man in his fifties?—”
I scoffed.
“—Has all the warmth of an aging boxer who should’ve retired twenty punches ago.”
Ouch.
“The ying to his yang is his assistant, a childlike trans woman who shadows him like a codependent puppy dog.”
Now I could feel my blood pressure rise. Say what you want about me, but Princess?—?
“Together, they rule Club Noir like the perfect Batman villain and henchwoman duo, amassing an army of freaks, degenerates, and perverts. Like me.”
Poe snapped the book shut. He was laughing so hard at this point, he had to wipe tears from his eyes.
“Anarmy,” he repeated. “Seekers, don your jockstraps! We’re storming the pulpit!”
I took a generous swallow from the bottle. I needed it. The Seekers Club was full of freaks—sure. But they were my freaks. A protective anger stirred under my skin. “What does she have to say about you?”
“There’s too many passages to choose from.” He flipped through the book. “All terrible.”
“Did you know she was going to publish this?”
He shook his head, snapping the book shut. “I had no idea until it came out. Copy on my doorstep.”
I winced. “How’d your family take it?”
“Well. They didn’t guillotine me for sleeping with my brother’s wife and corrupting her to the dark side. They just cut me out.”
He said it in such a devil-may-care tone, but I could tell it was eating him up from the inside out. “I’m sorry,” I said sincerely.
“That’s the gamble we play, right?” Poe said. “We play all these secret games in the dark but, eventually…the light is gonna come. And when it does, it’ll ruin you.”
“Poe.”
“My parents don’t talk to me. My sister has been warned against me, like my perversions are infectious. My brother—forget it. Last time I saw him, he punched me in the face. I am never getting him back.” He said it, then paused, as though the weight of it hit him all at once. “I am never, ever getting my brother back.”
The night took a somber turn. I stood and gave his shoulder a pat. “Water?”
“Sure.”
I stepped into the kitchen, dug out some ice, and fixed Poe a glass. As the water filled around the ice cubes, I couldn’t help but ruminate over Poe’s situation. Poe had two lives—his vanilla life and his kink life. The minute his ex exposed him, he lost everything. He lost his family. His parents. His siblings. All because of the things he did under my club’s roof.
This was why we kept the door locked. Why we used scene names. Why we made such a clear divide between the Seekers Club and reality.
Meanwhile, I’d been playing with Ophelia in the daylight. Going to her house. Meeting her family. Meeting herniece and nephew. I’d been playing with fire, and I knew it.
I reentered the living room and set Poe’s glass down. Poe had curled over, his face tucked into the cushion. His body shivered, and I realized…he was crying.
“I fucked up, Phantom,” he choked out. “I really…really fucked up. I’m a bad person.”
