We arrived in Ardmore around ten p.m. Jed suggested we get a motel room and start in the morning, but I shook my head. It was time to start my investigation. Maybe all my investigations with Rose had been practice for this.

“We need to go to Slick Willy’s.”

His brows lifted and he asked in a dry tone, “Slick Willy’s?”

“It’s a strip club west of Ardmore. Just outside of Wilson.”

He gave me a long look, then said, “Tell me how to get there.”

I gave him directions, and about fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the half-full parking lot. My stomach was in knots, but I knew I didn’t have a choice.

“Are you looking for someone in particular here?” Jed asked.

Pulling down the visor, I checked my appearance in the mirror. I grabbed my lip gloss and swiped my lips. “No. I just thought you might enjoy the show. You know . . . compare it to the Bunny Ranch. Maybe get a lap dance. My treat in exchange for the bus tickets.”

His eyes narrowed.

I closed the tube, dropped it in my purse, and then fluffed my hair, careful to not disturb my stitches. I knew he deserved the truth, but he’d figure it out on his own soon enough. Of all my friends and family, Jed was the person I would probably feel most comfortable bringing here with me.

Rose and I had gone searching for my cousin at Gems, the other strip club in Fenton County (until it burned down), and there’d been no mistaking the look of horror on Rose’s face the entire time we were in the club. That look had told me she couldn’t know the truth about how I’d learned to dance on the pole. I’d come up with a lie about my cousin teaching me in her garage, when in truth, I’d been the one to teach her.

But picking a companion to come here with me felt a whole lot like picking a body part where I wanted to be shot. Any location would hurt like hell, but some were less fatal.

I stuffed my phone and some cash in my jacket pocket and got out of the car, leaving Jed to follow.

“I take it you’ve been here before,” Jed said in a dry tone.

“A time or two.”

“What should I expect inside?”

“It’s Wednesday night, so it will be pretty tame. The church crowd.”

I half-expected a response to that, but one, he had experience with Skeeter’s strip club, and two, I suspected people were pretty much the same wherever you went.

We were greeted in the small foyer by a bouncer, a guy who tried to look tough but shrank a bit when he saw Jed. I didn’t recognize him, not that I was surprised. Turnover was understandably high. I slipped him a twenty to cover both of us, then headed inside before Jed could protest.

A couple of men were at the bar, but several more were sitting at the tables in front of the stage. On the far side of the room, a man and a woman sat facing the door. They were both well-dressed and totally out of the league of everyone else in the room. Interesting. But I’d temporarily caught the eye of the unaccompanied men, and they were practically ignoring the dancer gyrating to a Lady Gaga song. Her bra was already off, and there were several bills stuffed into her G-string.

I felt Jed’s chest press against my back and left shoulder, and it occurred to me that he was crowding close to broadcast that I was off-limits. I practically rolled my eyes before I headed toward the bar.

I was safe here. Probably.

The bartender had his back to me when I sat on one of the stools, but I recognized him nonetheless. Jed slid onto the seat to my right, slowly scanning the room. He seemed tense, but I supposed that was my fault for springing this on him without any warning.

Time to rip that Band-Aid right off.

The bartender—who was also the owner—turned around and did a double take when he saw me. “Kitty?”

“Hey, Stan,” I said, trying not to cringe.

“Oh, my God! I haven’t seen you in years! Not since . . . well, all that shit went down.”

“Yeah. I left right after.”

“How are you? What are you doin’ here?” His gaze landed on Jed and he looked equally impressed and intimidated. “Got yourself a man.”

“No,” I said, but Jed’s harsh “Yes” was louder.

I shot him a look, wondering what the hell he was doing, but in this conversation, I didn’t think it would matter.

“I’m back in town for a visit, so I figured I’d drop by. Any of the old girls still here?”

He shook his head. “Most are gone, but a few are left.”

“Who?”

“Raven. Maddie.”

“Carla?” I asked.

“Yeah . . . I forgot she started working right around the time you left.”

“Does she happen to be working tonight?”

He shook his head. “Nope, but she’s on tomorrow night.”

“Thanks.” I’d had a feeling I’d have to come back, but it didn’t mean I was happy about it. How did I handle the next part without drawing suspicion? I decided to just go for it. “Heard anything about Beasley?”

He froze, a tell if ever I’d seen one, then picked up a bar rag and started to wipe the counter. “I don’t know nothin’ about it, Kitty.”

“Forget I asked.”

His shoulders relaxed and he set two glasses on the table.

“How about a drink for old times’ sake?” He glanced at Jed and set out another tumbler before he picked up a whiskey bottle and gave us each a generous pour.

That made me suspicious. Stan’s ass was so tight he shit out ribbons in the mornings.

He handed out the drinks, then held up his tumbler. “To old friends returning to the fold.”

I clinked my glass with his, but Jed simply picked up his glass and took a drink. The scowl on his face suggested he was in no mood to chitchat. Surely he’d figured out my dirty little secret by now. Maybe he was reexamining his decision to come with me.

I couldn’t handle his derision, so I avoided looking him in the eye.

My gaze flitted to the bottle as I took a sip. Looked like Stan had broken out the good stuff, or what passed for good stuff in this place. Now I was really on edge.

“So . . . what have you been up to, Kitty?”

I kept my glass up and gave him a half-shrug. “This and that.”

“Where’d you take off to when you left?”

“Tulsa,” I lied.

“Working in the industry?”

“I got out.”

“You leave with Branson? He took off around the same time, from what I hear.”

“Nope.” I took a drink, hoping my hand didn’t shake. Branson. I wasn’t surprised Stan had asked. “Once I found out he was cheating, I took off.”

Stan snorted. “That’s a lie.”

Jed’s hand curled into a fist, but Stan didn’t seem to notice.

I gave Stan a look so cold I was sure his testicles shrank to the size of acorns. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just that he cheated before that . . .” he stammered, caught off guard. “And you didn’t do anything about it then.”

“The last time was different. He was cheating with my best friend.”

I took another drink and looked up on the stage. Nothing much had changed. Same sad décor. Same damn poles—I could tell by the chip at the top of the one on the left, although the indentation was bigger now. Even a few of the same damn customers. I felt dirty being here, not necessarily from what I’d done on that stage—the money I’d made here had helped me survive—but everything else. Being here was like toweling off from a shower with an oily rag.

Branson. Beasley. Stella.

They were in my past, yet I still hadn’t lost the stink of them. Maybe I didn’t deserve to.

I downed the glass and set it on the counter. “Get me another.”

“Only the first one’s free,” Stan said.

“She’s covered,” Jed growled. “Now get her drink.”

I finally glanced back at him. He seemed like a firework about to go off at any moment. Why was he pissed? Did he want to leave? It seemed unlikely, since he’d insisted Stan get me another drink.

Stan refilled my glass, and I took a generous sip. I felt both hollow inside and full of regret, kind of like when you have a stomach virus and you can’t tell if you’re hungry or need to vomit. It was a familiar feeling even if it had dulled over the last few years. I had yet to find a cure, but at least I had a crutch. I took another sip, needing to drown it all out.

What was I doing here? I needed to accept that I’d done terrible things. I should be running to the farthest corners of the earth and praying I was never found.

The things I’d done . . .

They were locked up tight in my vault of secrets, but the liquor burning through my blood made it feel like someone was loosening the handle.

Jed leaned over to my ear. “Neely Kate, is there anyone else you want to talk to here?”

I glanced back at him, surprised by the softness in his eyes.

“No.” I needed to talk to Carla, but I didn’t want to give her a heads-up either. I turned to Stan. “I want to surprise Carla, so don’t tell her I came in, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” he said, wiping the bar again. He was nervous. Why?

Jed looked torn, but he pulled out a ten-dollar bill and tossed it on the counter before he stood.

“Hey! Drinks are fifteen!” Stan protested.

“Please,” Jed sneered. “It’s watered down and a knockoff at that, poured into a top-shelf bottle. You’re lucky I’m payin’ you at all.”

Stan glared but didn’t say anything.

I downed the rest of my whiskey, feeling the burn all the way to my toes, then stood. I rarely drank anymore, and watered down or not, the alcohol was going straight to my head.

Jed tossed another bill on the counter, this time a twenty. “I take it this will ensure that our visit never happened?”

“Yeah,” Stan said, sliding it off the counter and stuffing it eagerly into his pocket. “Never saw ya.”

Jed leaned closer. “I’m counting on your discretion. If I find out—”

“You won’t! I’ll be quiet.”

“Good.” Jed put his hand at the small of my back and pushed me toward the door.

It felt like a choker was tightening around my neck.

As soon as we left the building, Jed rushed on ahead, moving several steps away from me. I felt my lifeline to my new life—my life with Rose—tighten and threaten to break. Jed was taking it with him.

How could I have been stupid enough to trust him?

“Go ahead,” I said as I held my hands wide.

“Go ahead and what?” he asked with a scowl as he continued to barrel toward his car.

I stayed in place and called after him. “You know my truth now. One of my dirty little secrets. Just keep on walkin’.”

He stopped and turned around, looking furious. “What do you want from me, Neely Kate? You want me to condemn you for working here? Seems like you’ve done that enough on your own.”

“I disgust you, don’t I?” I asked, taking a step closer.

His face hardened even more. “No.”

“So you like that I used to be an exotic dancer?” I asked coyly, yet my voice had an insincere edge. “You want me to show you my moves?”

“Get in the car, Neely Kate.”

Why, so he could ditch me later? It would be best to save myself a mountain of pain and get this out of the way now.

“Have you changed your mind about not sleeping with me?” I asked, moving closer with slow steps as I grabbed the skirt of my dress and hiked it up, exposing my upper thighs. I slinked toward him.

Jed’s eyes dipped to my legs before lifting to my face, his expression unreadable again.

“Do you want me to give you a lap dance?” I put my hand on his chest and pushed him backward. His butt hit the trunk of his car.

I expected a reaction out of him, but he just watched me with guarded eyes, his hands on the trunk beneath him.

My hips started to sway to unheard music as I straddled his leg and began to grind. “I slept with men for money, Jed,” I said in a hard voice. “You didn’t know that when I asked you if you wanted sex in exchange for the gas money to drive me here. I’d understand if you changed your mind.”

“Neely Kate.” His voice sounded strangled.

I turned around and lifted my hair from the back of my neck. Reaching back in a practiced move, I spread his legs and began to rub my ass into his crotch. “Do you want to screw me right here in the parking lot?”

He stood, wrapping his arm around the front of my waist to keep me from losing my balance. “Neely Kate,” he said in a sad voice, “I want you, but not like this.” He spun me around and held me to his chest.

I tried to pull back, but he held on tight, refusing to let me go.

“It’s okay,” he said. “That’s not you. It’s in your past.”

I started to cry. “No. It’s not. It’s right here.”

“You don’t have to live like that anymore.”

“But I’ll always be that girl. I’ll always be that eighteen-year-old girl who sold her virginity for two hundred dollars. Slut. Whore. Prostitute.”

He held me tighter as I sobbed into his chest, seven years of pain and regret drenching his shirt. “It’s my fault my babies died.”

“No,” he said, burying his face into my hair as he pulled me even closer. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is. All those STDs destroyed my insides. And the baby before them . . .” I sobbed even harder. “It was my punishment, only they paid the price. They counted on me to keep them safe, but I killed them.”

“No, Neely Kate. No.”

“I deserve every bit of pain this world gives me, but they were innocent. Why did they have to die?”

He cupped my face and pulled me back to search my eyes. “I don’t know. But you would have made a wonderful mother.”

I cried harder, loud, embarrassing wails. “How could I be a wonderful mother if I killed them?” I tried to pull away from him. “Let me go!”

He lowered an arm to my back, continuing to search my face with compassionate eyes. “I’m not letting you go, Neely Kate.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer.

“See?” I demanded, through heavy sobs. “I’m worthless. I can’t even take care of babies so small they were the size of lima beans.” I tried to jerk away again, but it was a halfhearted attempt. If he let go of me, I’d be lost in my misery forever, yet I didn’t trust him to stay. “Let me go.”

“No,” he said, the word thick with emotion.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

I tried to pull free, but his arms were tight bands around my back, holding me to his chest. I fell into him, crying so hard my face went numb. But he held on.

“I’m here, Neely Kate,” he said, stroking my hair. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You can’t be worthless, because you mean something to me.”