Page 108 of In Death, Love Survives

“Clothes later.”

Wolfe gets up and walks over to a set of dresser drawers. He opens one and pauses.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just been a while since I’ve been here. It feels good to be back.”

“How else are you feeling?” I ask.

He looks over his shoulder and smiles.

“I’m a fucking ten with you by my side.”

The Lodge lookslike a biker bar you would see in the movies. The outside is simple and nondescript, except for thefact that there are about two dozen motorcycles parked out front.

The small neon sign shows people it’s there and open, but that’s about it. For a small town, I get the feeling everyone already knows who owns this bar and who frequents it.

“Don’t be nervous, baby.”

Wolfe holds onto my hand tightly as he opens the door, and we walk in.

“I’m not,” I lie.

He smiles down at me knowingly.

The inside of The Lodge is surprisingly nice, with dark barstools lining a deep mahogany bar, matching black booths along the walls, and high tops filling up the space.

It has a dartboard in a corner near a jukebox and a cigarette machine—I haven’t seen either one of those in ages.

This place looks like it’s from the past, only more modern.

Smoke surrounds us as I finally take in all the eyes that are staring right at Wolfe and me. It makes me nervous to be under their gaze like this.

Some people are at least trying to pretend like they aren’t curious about me or Wolfe being back.

“Look who’s fucking finally back,” Caleb says as he greets Wolfe.

Wolfe doesn’t drop my hand as he lifts his head up slightly.

“Good to be back. Thanks for what you’ve been doing, man.”

“Don’t you know it.”

Caleb faces me and beams.

“Dr. Fletcher, it’s one hell of a pleasure to meet you properly,” he says with an outstretched hand.

“You too,” I say as I let go of Wolfe’s hand to shake it.

A low growl comes from Wolfe.

I pretend not to notice it. I’m not about to leave Caleb hanging here. I know how important he really is to Wolfe.

“How are you liking it so far?” Caleb asks as he leads us to three barstools.

“It’s been all of thirty minutes practically,” I say with a laugh.

“Fair,” Caleb answers.