The Lot
The cold hit her before she'd gone ten steps. The wind came straight off the water, wet and salty, and went right through her thin black dress.
June hugged Rook's jacket to her chest and kept walking. Behind her, the clubhouse thumped with music. Out here it was only gravel and string lights swinging on the old loading crane.
His bike was parked alone at the far end of the lot, under a floodlight that didn't work. It was a matte-black bagger with no chrome on it anywhere.
Rook was sitting sideways on the seat in his shirtsleeves, smoking. He didn't look cold. He watched her come down the whole row of bikes and didn't say a word.
June stopped in front of him and held out the jacket.
"You left this."
"I didn't leave it." He didn't take it. "I put it on you."
"Well, I don't need it."
"You're shaking."
She was. She hadn't noticed until he said it. June pushed the jacket at his chest. He still didn't take it, so she was left standing there holding it against him, her knuckles pressed flat to his shirt.
She could feel how warm he was through the cotton. Warmer than the jacket.
She pulled her hand back. The jacket dropped into his lap.
Rook looked down at it. Then he looked back up at her.
"So," he said. "That's why you came out here. To give me my coat back."
"Yes."
"Not because you couldn't sit in there and watch her put her head on his shoulder."
The wind went quiet for a second. Or maybe June just stopped hearing it.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you do." Rook took a drag on his cigarette and let the smoke out slow. "You've been doing it since you were seventeen. Every room he walks into, you know exactly where he is. You think nobody sees it. I see it."
June's face went hot, then cold. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you'd fold a flush to keep me happy, as long as you thought it'd help him." He flicked the ash away. "I know you'd ask me for a favor in his name before you'd ask in your own."
"That's not—"
"Girl's crazy about a guy," Rook said. "Guy thinks she's his kid sister. Girl stands in a cold parking lot at one in the morning so she doesn't have to watch." He shrugged one shoulder. "It's an old story, Princess. I've just never seen anybody work this hard to keep it a secret."
Other people said it about her and Dom. They said it behind her back, in corners, in lowered voices. Rook said it to her face, sitting on his bike, like he was telling her the forecast.
June took a step back. Her heel came down on loose gravel and slid.
Rook's hand shot out and caught her by the hip.
He didn't pull her in. He just held her there, steady, until her feet were under her. Then he stood up off the bike. Now he was in front of her, close, and his hand was still on her hip.
She had to tip her head all the way back to see his face.
"Let go," June said.
He didn't, not right away. He looked down at her. His eyes went to her mouth, just once, and came back up.
Then he let go.
June didn't step back. She told herself it was because the gravel was loose.
"You want your fair shot for Snowline," Rook said. His voice had dropped low. "Fine. But you're going to ask me for it yourself. Not as Dom's little sister. Not with his name stuck in front of yours like a hall pass. You."
"Why does it matter who's asking?"
"Because I want to hear you do it."
June opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
She couldn't. Every time she'd ever asked anybody for anything in this town, she'd been asking as Dom's. It was the only name she had that worked. Without it, she was just the Sterling girl nobody wanted.
Her eyes started to burn. June looked down at the gravel so he wouldn't see.
"You don't have to help," she said. "Sorry I wasted your time."
She turned and walked away fast, before it could get any worse.
She was halfway down the row of bikes when she heard his engine start behind her. He didn't drive past her. He sat there and let it run, low and heavy, until she'd gone back inside and pulled the side door shut.
Dom was standing in the back hall.
He was leaning against the wall by the kegs with his arms crossed, like he'd been there a while. His eyes went to the door behind her. Through it, they could both still hear Rook's engine idling in the lot.
"Where were you?"
"Getting some air."
Dom looked at her. Her hair was blown all over the place. Her hand was still pressed flat against her hip, right where Rook had held her.
She hadn't even noticed she was doing it. She dropped her hand.
Dom pushed off the wall and came over. He took both of her hands in his and rubbed them between his palms, hard and fast, the way he used to when she came in from building snow forts as a kid.
"You're freezing," he said.
His hands were huge and warm. He held hers a little longer than it took to warm them. His thumbs moved over her knuckles. June stood very still and looked at the second button on his shirt.
Out in the lot, Rook's engine revved once, loud. Then it pulled away, and the sound faded up Pier Street.
Dom's thumbs stopped moving.
From the main room, the singer laughed at something and called his name.
Dom let go of June's hands. "Go get your coat," he said. "Nico'll take you home."
He walked back toward the music. June stood alone in the hall and put her cold hands in her armpits.
Nadia had been moved overnight.
She was up on the fourth floor of St. Brigid's now, in a private room with a window over the harbor. When June asked the nurse at the desk how that happened, the nurse only said, "The Reyes family called."
June hadn't asked Dom for anything. He'd done it anyway. He always did.
Nadia had gotten through her first round of chemo that morning. Her skin had gone the color of skim milk. There was a purple bruise on the back of her hand where the IV went in.
"So he's really like that?" Nadia said. Her voice was hoarse. "Rook?"
"He's really like that."
"What does he want?"
June sat down in the chair by the bed. "He wants me to ask him for it. Myself. Without saying Dom's name."
Nadia looked at her for a long moment. "So ask him."
"It's not that easy."
"Why not?"
June didn't answer. She didn't have an answer she could say out loud.
Nadia reached over and squeezed her hand. Her fingers were cold and thin. "June. If you're going to ask Dom to lean on him, don't. Then it's Dom's deal, not yours. And you'll owe him one more thing you can never pay back."
"I'm not going to ask Dom."
"Good."
Nadia closed her eyes. A second later she sat straight up and grabbed for the pink plastic basin on the tray table. June got there first and held her hair back while she was sick.
When it was over, June wiped Nadia's mouth with a wet paper towel and settled her back against the pillows.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from Piper, who was supposed to be on her way up with lunch.
Um, why is rook mercer's truck parked outside the front doors.
He's just sitting in it.
June, he's LOOKING AT THE HOSPITAL
June walked to the window.
Four floors down, a flat-black Ram was parked in the fire lane in front of the main doors. The engine was running. The driver's window was down.
She couldn't see his face from here. She didn't need to.
Her phone buzzed one more time. It wasn't Piper.
It was a number she didn't know.
Come down. Bring your own name this time.
