By late that night, or technically early the next morning, Shane and I finally lift our heads from being lost in each other and the hopes that there’s any way this is going to be okay.

Okay, okay . . . we lift our heads from a nap, but as I told Shane, I’m unemployed.

Soon after the club closes, we carefully head downstairs, as Shane says he wants to check in with Dominick. I sneak backstage and find Allie alone in the locker room.

She’s dressed in her silky robe, sitting at a mirrored table to remove the layers of makeup she wears for the stage. “Hey, Allie. How was the show tonight?”

She looks up, meeting my eyes in the mirror, and I can tell she’s still mad. Guess I can understand. I mean, I did drop a grenade into the middle of her world.

“No, don’t do that,” Allie replies, barbs in every word that sting as they hit my eardrums. “Don’t ask me shit like how my dancing went or how my night was. Like you care when your whole gig here was fake.”

Ouch. I step into the dressing room, really trying. Allie’s important to me. “I do care. And it wasn’t all fake. Yeah, the job, calling myself Meghan . . . but I meant what I said about feeling like I belonged here and that I found a family.”

Allie snorts, her eyes glued to the mirror as she peels her fake lashes off. “I don’t know if I should believe that. I mean, you’re obviously a good liar, so how can I ever believe what you say?”

I sigh, hugging myself and knowing she’s got a point. “You’re right, but I swear, Allie. You’re one of my best friends, not just in this life,” I say, indicating the club around us, “but in my whole life. You think I didn’t want to let you in all the way? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth and that it hurt you.”

Allie finally turns around to face me. “This is some really fucked up shit you’ve gotten me into. I didn’t know all that stuff from yesterday.”

My eyebrows jump as my jaw drops, and I try to keep my voice to a whisper. “You didn’t know about Dominick, about the mob?”

Allie shakes her head, whispering back just in case we’re overheard. “No! I mean, I knew Dom was a bigwig, but I thought it was just . . . here, as the owner of a fancy strip club. I didn’t know he was big, like in charge of the city. Who wants to work in a mob-owned strip club?”

I nod, knowing that especially with Allie’s background, that’s the last place she ever imagined she’d end up. “So, what happened?”

Allie turns back to her table and starts working on her makeup again. “That guy’s blood was all over me. Dominick carried me into his office and helped me get cleaned up. He was furious, the anger buzzing around him like a force field, but he was gentle with me. Tucked me in on the couch in his office and went out to talk to the guys.”

“That was about the time Shane was hustling me out of the club,” I reply. “He was so worried about me. Looking back, it was touching.”

Allie finally gives me a ghost of a smile, looking into the mirror. “I bet. I don’t know what Dom told the guys. I guess I just avoided thinking about it because I was in shock. He gave me a couple of days off, even offered to let me stay upstairs in the apartment you’re in, but I just wanted to go home and hide in my own bed, you know? So he drove me there himself and came by morning and night to make sure I ate and was okay. He took care of me, and when he wasn’t there, Nick or Logan was downstairs, making sure I was safe. And then you called with the whole meeting thing, and he said he needed me to be there, for him and for you. And the three of you just sat there and spouted off all this big scary shit like it was normal conversation.”

I realize that while everyone always teases me about my innocence, this time, it’s Allie whose bubble of innocence was burst. “I’m sorry you found out like that. I didn’t know what you knew, but we needed you there because we thought Dominick wouldn’t hurt us in front of you.”

Allie smiles sadly, turning around to face me. “You used me. I figured out that part, at least, and I guess I can see why. I just wish I could go back to being blind to all of this around me. I mean, Dominick’s a great guy who’s been taking care of me, a good boss who makes it feel safe here, considering it’s a strip club. But now, I’m just . . . lost.”

Her words break my heart, and I step closer, putting my hands on her shoulders. “You’re not lost, Allie. Nothing here has changed. You’re still you, Dominick is still Dominick, and I’m still me. Now, the veil is just lifted and you’re seeing behind the curtain a bit. It’s shocking, but it’s better to know the truth, even if it’s ugly, than a pretty lie.”

Allie puts a hand over mine and looks over her shoulder. “That’s me, the pretty tragedy. Don’t worry, I’m just still adjusting. I don’t know what to think about all of this. Tonight was the first night I’ve performed since the shooting. I was just in total mind dump mode, not thinking at all. Although I practiced so much at home that I finally got that spinning death-drop move perfected. It was flawless.”

I grin, even as her eyebrows pull together. “I might need to rename the move though. Seems a bit dark, considering what’s been happening.”

I rub her shoulders gently. “Call it whatever you want. Allie, what’s awesome about you is how even in the deepest of valleys, you’ve never given up. You keep working until you find a hilltop, and that’s where you make your stand for the next journey. You sort of helped me, too. So many times over the past couple of months, I kept telling myself, ‘be like Allie. She’d keep going.’ And it was true.”

Allie takes a deep breath, nodding. “I like that. So . . . Shane? Is that where you’re standing for your next journey?”

I smile, feeling the mood shift to some semblance of before, when we’d dish about how hot the security guys are and lament Dominick’s no-fraternizing policy. Even as she cheered me on, she also thought it’d never happen. Guess we were both wrong.

Grabbing a chair, I sit down next to her, grinning foolishly as she raises an eyebrow. “What can I say except . . . he’s amazing, even better than what you used to tease me about. The last few days have been scary, especially when we had to explain the huge web of lies and get everything untangled. But he’s been there for me, kept me safe.”

I sigh, not fully able to put into words everything I feel about Shane.

But Allie seems to understand, grinning mischievously. “I can see he’s been there . . . and there, and oh, over there too, twice, by the looks of it,” she says cheekily as she indicates the various marks visible on my body. “Is there any part of you he hasn’t been?”

I blush furiously, proud of Shane’s claiming of me but feeling shy that she’s pointing them out so . . . individually. “Yeah, he’s a little . . . mouthy . . . and possessive. I, uh . . . I like it.”

I can feel my face burning even brighter, and Allie smiles.

“Well, that’s what matters. And good God, a mouthy man. Bet he gives the best oral! Lucky girl.”

She winks at me, and things feel like they’re okay, or at least like they might be okay someday. “Hey, you wanna see my spinning death-drop?”

Eager to get the focus off me and Shane and our bedroom activities, I nod. “Yes! Let me see, girl! But only if you’re not too tired after your performances tonight.”

“Never too tired for you,” Allie replies with a snort. “I could use a few more practice spins too. Come on!”

We go onto the floor, where everyone but Marco has already left, and Allie takes her place on stage while I sit at the front row center table. In the background, I can hear Marco working downstairs, probably still cleaning up.

She does a few warmups, and within minutes, she’s twirling around the pole, high above the stage floor. There’s no music, so it has a different feel. Gone is the sexy sway. It’s just the quiet intensity and small grunts as Allie works the pole. No wonder they do pole dance fitness classes.

Allie does some kick trick that I couldn’t describe even if I tried because it happens so fast, my brain can’t even register it. All I see is her stilettoed foot kick out, and then Allie is speeding upside down toward the floor in a spiral with her arms spread wide in a T, and I gasp. “Allie!”

Right before her head smacks into the stage, she grabs the pole and rolls it along her shoulder, her legs straddling open for a moment before she settles to the floor in the splits.

As if she didn’t just cheat death and defy gravity, she pulls her feet back under and rises gracefully. “So, what do you think?”

My mouth is still hanging wide open, but I manage to yell out, “Mother trucking smurfin’ yeah, biz-nitch!” as I clap loudly. “You’re my hero!”

Allie smiles, and I can see the pride on her face, even as she downplays it. “Yeah, it’s not ballet, for damn sure, but it sure is fun!”

From the side of the stage, I hear a door open and close, and both our eyes snap that direction. But it’s only Marco coming up from the stockroom, boxes of beer in his hands.

He sees me and immediately sets them down. “Holy fuck, Meghan! Where have you been? You okay?”

I run over and give him a hug, and Allie joins in. The three of us hug like it’s been years instead of days, and even though Marco called me by the wrong name, I feel at home.

It doesn’t matter that it’s a strip club or that there’s more to the story than we planned.

I’m home with these people.

Guess Shane’s right. There is a bit of bad girl inside me.