Page 76 of The Hardest Hit

“It was a radial fracture.”

“You hit people, didn’t you? And you let other people hit you?”

He swallowed hard. He found that he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. “There is a club.”

“Fetish?”

“Yes. How did you…”

“One of my shoes escaped under your bed on Tuesday. There was a card under there—I googled. Also under the bed was a Chapstick, those socks you were looking for, and that earring I lost.”

He nodded. “I was missing those socks.”

“Was the club…” she trailed off. “You tied me up and I thought that was fun.”

“It was fun!”

“Are we not…” She gave a helpless sort of gesture. “Am I not enough?” She had a pinched look to her face that said she was holding back tears, and he found his heart was jack-hammering.

“No! Yes! I’m not saying this right.” His chest felt like it was being compressed by an anvil. He took a deep breath and then another. Clear communication. Say what he felt. He could do this. He’d done it with Jackson and it had turned out fine. He just had to breathe.

“You are more than enough. I love what we do.” Her face relaxed somewhat, and he took another breath. “That place… I quit three years ago. I don’t miss it. I don’t want to go back.”

“Why did you quit?”

He licked his lips. “Aside from breaking my arm, I spent the better part of my twenties being miserable. I thought the club was helping, then I realized it wasn’t. So I quit.”

“Helping how?”

He licked his lips again. “I thought… I didn’t want to end up like my dad. I didn’t want to be someone who hurt people. I thought I was being constructive. I thought that was where I belonged.”

She made a gesture he didn’t know how to interpret. Then suddenly she was hugging him. Then she stepped back and stared up into his face as if looking for something specific.

“We should go home now,” she said.

“OK,” he agreed. She walked out to the elevators and pressed the button. He followed her because he didn’t know what else to do. The elevator doors opened and she walked inside. She leaned against the far wall and pulled on her gloves. Evan stood in front of her, wondering what he was supposed to say or do next.

“She thinks my tits are to die for.”

“They are,” he agreed. He’d pictured telling Olivia about Fetish and in his head, it had always ended in disaster. It had never once ended in discussing Olivia’s breasts.

“They are pretty good tits,” she said looking down her own dress. “When we get home you should do something with them.”

“Such as?” he asked. He stepped closer to her and ran his hand up her waist and over her breast.

“I would like—” she began.

The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors slid open. Evan dropped his hand and tried to pretend he hadn’t just been feeling up his girlfriend in the elevator. Olivia looked like she was trying not to laugh.

They got off in the parking garage and Olivia finally giggled.

“Get in the car,” he said. “Seriously, just get in the car.”

He glanced over at her as he drove. He couldn’t tell if he was in the dog house or not. She was staring out the window.

“Are we OK?” he asked.

She turned and smiled at him. “Yes.”