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He stepped back, putting space between them in the hopes his wildly vacillating emotions would calm. Her face fell, and he regretted his decision immediately. With a sad nod, she walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the club.
Chapter Three
He came.
Danny came—and he saved me.
Just like I knew he would.
But my relief at being saved from the degradation of learning to dance in front of Paulie was soon replaced by frustration and anger. Danny left me. Danny lied to me. He promised I could count on him. He promised he would be there for me.
But he was just like every other man I had known. He was all talk, but when I had needed him, he had abandoned me. The phone number was fake, and when that idiot Boychenko finally found me, he had offered money to make me go away.
My life since the fire had been traumatic. I had been forced to do things I had never imagined. Like waiting tables in a bikini and heels while men old enough to be my grandfather touched my bare ass and propositioned me. Like sleeping in my car in a Walmart parking lot. Like visiting my stepmom in jail.
Biting back the sob that threatened to escape, I hastily peeled out of the ridiculous outfit Cherry had loaned me and placed it on her chair. I pulled on my yoga pants and Memorial High tee and slipped my feet into my flip-flops. I found a ten-dollar bill in my backpack’s front pocket and left it on the skimpy outfit with a quickly written Post-It note thanking Cherry for her help and explaining the money was my way of making up for not laundering it myself.
When I stepped out of the cramped dressing room, I found Danny waiting for me. His eyes were still dark with fury, and I swallowed nervously, wondering if he was going to direct that anger at me. He flicked his fingers and turned toward the exit at the end of the dingy, dank hall. As much as it hurt me to be treated so dismissively by him, I scurried after Danny, not wanting to spend another second in this horrible place.
Outside, the June afternoon sun burned high and bright. I would have grabbed my sunglasses, but Danny was moving so fast I couldn’t waste the time to look for them in my backpack. As he marched toward my car parked under the only light that worked in the back lot, I heard a revving engine and spotted a black SUV coming around the corner of the building. I recognized the driver—Boychenko—and frowned.
“Where are your keys?” Danny demanded as we reached my car. He held out his hand and repeated, “Your keys?”
“My keys?” I said, on the verge of blowing my top at him. “You abandoned me. You lied to me. You come back here like you’re some kind of white knight, and the first thing you say to me is about my fucking keys?”
Danny flinched as my voice rose higher and higher. “I didn’t abandon you or lie to you.”
“You gave me a fake number. You promised me, Danny. You promised!” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I burst into tears, overwhelmed by the stress and trauma. “You promised, and you lied!”
“Macy.” He spoke my name in a tone I had never heard from him. It was a mix of anguish and pain and regret. “Macy.”
“Don’t!” I pushed him away as he tried to embrace me. “I hate you!”
“No, you don’t.” He sounded so sure of himself, and it made me even madder.
“Yes, I do!” Stubbornly, I evaded his grasp. “You’re just like the rest of them.”
“Stop,” he urged, his voice gentle. “Come here.” He finally managed to wrap his arms around me. He gathered me in tight. “I’m sorry, Macy. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be safe. You were supposed to be looked after and taken care of while I was gone.”
Overcome, I clung to him, gripping his shoulder and arm. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I unleashed a wild torrent of sobs, crying pathetically against his chest as he held me there in that filthy parking lot. He stroked my back and kissed the top of my head and my temple while murmuring soft, sweet things in Russian.
“I was so scared.” I wept even harder. “I was so scared and alone and didn’t know what to do.”
“You’re not alone anymore, Macy. I’m here.” Danny kissed my cheek and combed his fingers through my hair. “I’ll take care of you.”
Five words I had desperately yearned to hear. I was so tired of taking care of everyone else. I was so tired of being alone and terrified. I didn’t know how to play this game. I didn’t know how to make things right or save Janie. I needed help.
“Danny,” Boychenko called out from the SUV. “The boss wants to see you.”
“He’ll have to wait,” Danny gruffly replied. “I have to take care of some things first.”
Boychenko didn’t seem to like that answer because he argued back in Russian, and Danny snapped back something that made Boychenko curse and then drive away.
“Your keys?” Danny asked for the third time. “Let’s get out of here, and then we’ll talk.”
I disentangled myself from Danny’s embrace and found my keys. I handed them over and then apologized, “The air conditioner isn’t working.”
“I’ll handle that tomorrow,” he promised.
