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The club is as hopping as usual. It's filled with late night bodies. The booths around the edges are filled with the wealthier clients.
Occasionally, she ends up working in the VIP room, bringing drinks on small black trays and wearing stick thin heels. She's been working here for years and by now, she can move around the crowds without spilling a drop. Regulars like her winning smile and the pushup she wears so her B-cup looks like a D. Kate doesn't mind being gawked at, especially when it's perpetrated by the interactions with the friendly bartenders. They love her and don't ever bother to flirt with her. She won't sleep with fellow employees. That's what the attractive dancers are for.
Kate has a wardrobe of minidresses that fit her like a second skin and barely cover her legs enough to be considered a full outfit. Her legs are long and bare, with lines of muscle from over a year of culebra fighting and years of self-defense classes with world-class trainers.
She puts two martinis and a Corona on her tray and balances it on her right hand. She skirts around the outskirts of the dance floor to the far corner, lifting the tray above her head to keep the drinks safe. After delivering the order to the table of three, Kate maneuvers through the dancers, holding the tray under her arm until she gets to the bar. Chelsea and Emmett are working tonight.
"This is for table six," Chelsea says, putting down a vodka-cranberry, two fingers of scotch and three beers. She gives Kate a wink and Kate smiles wide in return. Tray in hand, she takes a few steps away from the bar, facing the dance floor.
Large, warm hands slide around her waist like they belong there. Kate's eyes widen and she sinks her fingers around the well worn fingers and she pries them off her dress. "Excuse me," she says, yanking them back and twisting her torso.
She almost drops the tray balanced on her other hand. She can't even speak. Her lips part and she just stares, frozen in space, fingers still clutched around his painfully.
"Hey, Katie," he says, a smirk tugging up the corners of his lips. "You look amaz—jesus!"
Kate snaps out of it quickly and wrenches his fingers back harshly. She twists around on her pencil thin heels and steps back, her palm making contact with his face and her red stained nails scrape over his scruffy jaw.
"What the hell?!" Seth exclaims.
Kate narrows her eyes at him. "Me what the hell? You what the hell, Seth! What are you doin' here?" She lowers her voice at the last bit. He's supposed to be in jail.
He rubs the side of his face. "Don't worry, I'm legal," he says, not bothering to hide his wandering eyes that rake down her body. It's been years since she's seen him. It's been years since she lived on the road with him in shifty hotel rooms speaking in broken Spanish and killing culebra. He's older now, with patches of grey streaking through his hair above his ears. Kate's changed too, her curves are more prominent, her face has thinned out and her hair reaches her waist.
"I'm working," Kate says suddenly, pushing his hand away that's stretching toward her again.
Seth shrugs and waves a hand. "Go about your business, I'm gonna just sit here and wet my whistle," he says, flashing her a cocky grin and leaving her to sit on one of the stools at the end of the bar.
Letting out a huff, Kate drops off the vodka and scotch and beers at table six, receiving a hefty tip that she tucks into her bra. She adds it to the tip jar behind the bar and tries to look anywhere but at the thief nursing a brown bottle beer.
"Someone fancy got your eye?" Chelsea asks, saddling up to the opposite end of the bar and mixing up a drink.
Kate leans her slender arms against the countertop and does her best not to look directly across the way at Seth. "What?" Kate scoffs and watches Chelsea's hands magically concoct an alcoholic reprieve.
"Don't even, Kate. You've been looking over at that guy for the past hour. Why aren't you over there, talking to him?" Chelsea takes a lingering look over at Seth, who is too busy glancing around the crowd to notice. "I mean, he is a silver fox."
Kate snickers and shakes her head, loose strands of hair falling over her shoulders from her half-up-do. "He's not forty for a couple years, I don't think he can be considered a silver fox."
Chelsea arches an eyebrow and places two drinks down on the tray. "You know how old he is?" Her mouth formed into an 'o'. "Oh my god, you dated him?"
Kate's face falls and she clears her throat, straightening her back and reaching for the tray. "It wasn't…like that."
Chelsea grins. "Oh sure, sweetie."
Kate rolls her eyes and brings the tray across the room. She slips through the VIP red tape and delivers the drinks to some rich artist that came in often, but who Kate never remembers the name of. She clenches her jaw when he slaps her ass walking by and wants to do nothing but break his hand.
She accidentally digs her heel into the soft leather of his shoes and gains a hefty tip. Keeping the tray under her arm, she tiptoes around the edge of the room, only to be stopped by someone grabbing her elbow.
"Kate," Seth's voice cuts through the dance music before she can move to break his hand. She's always on the defensive. She blames the year and a half of fighting for her life.
"What?" she asks, twisting around to face him. He pulls her close and she can feel his body heat seeping through the thin fabric of her dress.
"I need to talk to you," he says.
Kate raises her eyebrows. "You've been in jail for over eight years, I think we both know what you need, Seth."
He tilts his head to the side and shrugs. "Oh, c'mon, give me a break, Kate. After all the shit we've been through, you're not gonna give me a break?"
All the things they've been through? From the kidnapping to the culebra attacks to the death and loss of her father and brother…did he mean just that, or did he mean the eighteen months following? There were the hotel rooms and the hotwired cars. Him introducing her to alcohol and showing her where to put her hands when he held her against his form and slid his tongue between her lips. The way he held her close in the shower after she almost died and was covered in blood. And how about her having to watch him get kicked in the face by the police and dragged through the dirt until he was handcuffed and pushed into the cop car as she struggled and cried for them to let him go.
They didn't.
"You can't be mad at me," Seth says, not letting her arm go. "I didn't want to leave you."
Kate closes her eyes. She was forced to stay in the police station until one of the detectives took her home for a week. She had to write a testament against Seth and she refused. Her family was dead and gone and she was sent to live with some distant third cousin named Ronald and his wife, Cynthia, all the way in San Francisco.
"I didn't know they'd still be swarming the border looking for me. It'd been over a year, Kate."
She sighs and opens her eyes. "I know," she says almost too softly for him to hear. Her breath is small and warm against his chin. Her eyes flicker up to his. He's never seen her wearing makeup, but she has it powdered across her face and her eyes are lined in winged black and her lips are a soft pink. "I get off work soon."
"Yeah?"
She rolls her eyes and pushes away from him. "Go sit at the bar, I'll come over when I'm off."
"Right," Seth smirks, letting her go and disappearing through the crowd. Kate watches him leave and shakes her head. She doesn't know what she's thinking, but she's not a little girl anymore. She has a life of her own, separate from Seth and culebra and Mexico. She hasn't been that girl in so long, she can barely recognize herself when she thinks back.
The last half hour of her shift drags on like the universe knows that Kate is anticipating something major. She doesn't know what, she has no idea what's going to unfold tonight, what Seth wants to talk about. He couldn't have done very much, stuck in prison, and Kate isn't willing to offer up the past eight and a half years of her life to him in one night like she is some protagonist in a romance novel. That isn't her style.
Kate deposits her tray to its rightful place. She slips behind the counter and stays in a corner, sorting through the tips for her shift and separating it into four: Chelsea, Emmett and the other waitress, Hannah. She rolls up the bills and weaves her way between either side of the bar and the two bartenders as they work their skills for extra tips. Kate leans over the end of the bar, crossing her arms and digging her elbows into the smooth surface.
"Hey," she says, leaning forward a little more, pressing her breasts together even more than the pushup could do for her. "Follow me around the bar. I've gotta get my stuff and we can head out the back exit."
Seth raises his eyebrows, his eyes dragging over her bare breastplate, void of any thin gold chain or cross. "Yeah, alright." He downs what's left of his beer and slides off the stool.
Chelsea catches Kate's arm when she tries sneaking past. "Heeeeey, getting lucky tonight, are we?"
Kate rolls her eyes again and brushes off the hand. "You need to get your own sex life, Chels, don't try to live vicariously through me."
Chelsea grins and returns to her work. "Whatever you say, doll."
Kate calls a goodbye to Emmett and joins Seth at the end of the bar. "How long've you been out?" she asks, leaning close to his ear. He slings his arm around her back, resting his hand against her hip.
"A month," Seth replies, letting her lead him around the back, past the bathrooms and down a hallway. "Had to get myself cleaned up and figure out how to make it in this oh-so-changed world."
Kate laughs lightly and steps away from him, opening a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. It was the locker room, so to speak, to keep everyone's jackets and changes of clothes, flat shoes for the waitresses, purses or anything else they bring in with them. The room is tiny, more like an elaborate closet than a full room, barely big enough for four people in the space if they are squeezed like sardines. Seth hovers by the door and Kate steps toward the hooks lining the wall.
"Tell me you didn't rob another bank," Kate says over her shoulder, turning to her left and pulling a knee-length black coat off the wall. She slides it on over her arms and stuffs the rolled up bills into an inside pocket before buttoning it up. She turns to him with raised eyebrows. "Well?"
"Nah, don't worry about it." He crosses his arms and waits. She stuffs her phone and wallet into the deep coat pockets, her hair bunching up around her neck. She doesn't bother pulling it out and lets it tickle her throat.
"Let me guess, you tracked me down, thinkin' you'd fall back into my life in the same way we left off?" She fists a hand and rests it against her hip.
Seth's cockiness fades and he straightens up, blocking the doorway. "From what I remember, you were begging the cops to let me go. Screaming and crying and everything. And then you didn't call or write…I needed to make sure you were still alive."
Kate blinks. She had already lost her father and Scott and Richie, technically speaking, she couldn't bear to lose someone else, especially when it was Seth, who hadn't been her kidnapper for a long time. She chose to stay with him. "As you can see, I'm doin' just fine." She doesn't apologize for not contacting him. She walks forward and he moves out of her way just enough for her to get by. "I live not far from here. C'mon."
He follows, flipping up the collar of his jacket before they reach the exit. He shoves his hands into his pockets to warn off the chill. Kate's still not used to the temperatures, even though San Francisco was known for its temperate climate, but she keeps her legs bare from the knees down. The club gets so hot that she likes to cool off during the walk back.
Neither of them say much as she leads him down the alley behind the building and then down to the side street. "How was prison? Better the second time?" She glances over, the cool night breeze tugging at the shorter hairs that have escaped her hairstyle.
"A little more bearable," Seth smirks, looking over at her.
"Do I wanna know how you got out?"
"Parole, actually. Good behavior."
"You're breakin' parole right now." Kate stops short and he keeps walking a few steps before he sighs and turns back. "You left Texas. Or Missouri, or wherever you were serving."
Seth shrugs. "I'll be back before they know it. You're worth the risk, princess."
Kate admits that the pet name sends chills right down to her core. She clenches her hands into fists in her pockets and continues walking, forcing him to move. "Did you ever hear from Richie?" she asks after a minute. She can see her apartment building in the distance.
She doesn't say find, obviously, since he was in jail. But maybe Richie wrote or called him, unlike Kate had.
"Nah," Seth shakes his head. She doesn't press the subject, walking just close enough for their elbows to brush beneath their coats. "So where's this place you speak of?"
Kate nods toward the building up ahead. "I see prison didn't give you any patience," Kate teases, nudging against him.
She slows and turns at a set of steps beside a store that sells hand woven rugs. He follows her inside and up the stairs to the third floor. The building is simple, not squalor and it's nicer than the motels they stayed at in Mexico.
"My roommate works nights," Kate tells him, unlocking the second door on the left.
"Roommate, huh?"
Kate pushes open the door and steps inside, pushing the light switch next to the doorway and lighting up the place. It's small and simple: kitchen, living room, two bedrooms and a bathroom. Kate had little, the only thing in her room that shows any ounce of history for her was the photograph of her family that she took from the RV before she ditched it at the Twister to run off with Seth. It isn't in a frame, but it lives on the top of her bureau.
"Better than a jail cell," Seth says, closing the door behind him and unbuttoning his jacket.
"Says the man who took an underaged girl into the shadiest of motels south of the border," Kate points out. She walks farther into the living room, unbuttoning her coat. He walks past her and lays his coat over the back of the couch, instantly making himself at home, like she expected he would. They always said that home was more the people you surround yourself with than any physical place.
"I thought we were passed all that," Seth says, keeping his back to her and walking along the front of the couch to the shelves lining the wall next to it. Almost everything there belonged to her roommate.
He brushes the ends of his fingers along the edge of the shelf, as if he's trying to relearn how everything feels outside of a prison cell. Kate shrugs off her jacket and hooks it in the closet next to the front door before pulling off her heels and leaving them by the door. She hadn't grown any since she was seventeen, but Seth wasn't that much taller than her; at least compared to Richie or really anyone who was more than six feet tall.
She smooths her hands over the clingy black material over her legs. The skirt portion is only about five inches long. The Kate Seth met in that hotel room at gunpoint would never have worn something so revealing, but Kate does what she needs for good tips. And she can always handle anyone who tries to touch her if she doesn't want to be touched. Seth could certainly attest to that. With his backs till turned, she unlatches and pulls off her bra, lettering herself breathe for the first time six hours, and tosses it over on the moonchair shoved in the corner. The black material blends right in.
"You would think eight years are enough to forget that, but alas." She tilts her head to the side and places her hands on her hips. "I still wake up with moldy weird smells in my nose and it's kinda gross."
Seth laughs silently. She can see his shoulders move. He turns around and looks at her in the full illumination of the florescent light over the kitchen. Kate's standing by the breakfast bar wearing something Seth has never seen her wear. Seeing her naked and seeing her dressed in the smooth black minidress are two completely different things. His eyebrows rise as he takes in her face, fully makeuped with her hair long, longer than he's ever seen it.
"Where's your cross?" he asks, eyes lingering on her chest for a moment, the deep cut of the neck, the thin straps holding up the silky material set on her slender shoulders.
"In my room. I don't wear it to work," she says, resting her elbow against the counter.
Seth's eyes move down her torso and stop abruptly at the hem of her dress, his eyes widening in surprise. "What is that?" He sidles forward, eyes on her legs, hand outstretched. He can see half a tattoo or so, something big and bold, with colors and shapes of all lines straight and curvy. His palm rests against the side of her right leg and his fingers move to push up the short skirt of her dress.
Kate slaps her hand over his wrist and yanks his hand back. "Hey now, who said you could get me out of my dress, old man?"
His eyes are fixated, staring at what he can make out to be the handles of two very different guns crossed over each other, and a cross in a gold chain wrapped around them. There is an ornate frame around all of the shapes. He can see yellow eyes with slits for pupils, part of a phrase in script and what looks like another cross.
"I never thought you'd have the guts to get a tattoo," Seth says, taking his hand back and meeting her eyes, wide and green. She lets go of his hand and he tries again to touch her, this time brushing the back of his knuckles against her face. "So you took me back to your place just to tease me, darlin'?"
Kate stills and then she shrugs a shoulder. "Me, a tease? Why, Mr. Gecko…" Her lips curl up in a smirk and she laces her fingers behind his neck, closing up the space between them and pressing her barely clothed body against his. She leans in and her lips stop just a breadth from his. "You don't know me all that well anymore," she says low and slow before pressing her lips against his. The kiss is a question in itself to see how far he's willing to go.
Seth slides his hands around her waist and pulls her flush against him. "I guess not," he replies against her lips. A smoky smirk appears on her face and her fingers slide through the soft hair at the base of his neck. He kisses her first this time. The kiss is chaste before he sucks her lip between his teeth and she slides her thigh up his leg. She makes a little noise in the back of her throat when he slides his tongue between her lips. She won't let him win this game and fights his tongue with her own. His rough hands drag down her side and thigh, hitching her leg over his hip and pressing her back against the counter.
She lets out a small yelp and breaks the kiss, dragging her lips down his stubbly jaw, the numb fuzzy feeling familiar, like she's kissing sandpaper she always thought. She slides her hands down his neck and digs her nails into his shirt, nipping lightly at the skin over his throat. Seth moves his hand up her back, moving from the fabric to the bare skin, warm under his touch, his fingers tangling in her hair.
"Seth," she returns to mumble against his lips, "think you can pick me up in your old age?"
He growls in the back of his throat and presses his forehead against hers, taking her hips in his hands and lifting her off her feet, her ankles locking behind him. Her dress has already gotten pushed up to her hips. Her thighs tighten around his hips and he moves his other hand down her back and over her behind, barely covered now with thin black panties.
Seth steals her breath and kisses her throat before he glances to the side, to one of the three doors off of the living room. Kate smirks against his temple and crosses her wrists behind his neck. "That one over there," she tells him.
Seth moves and Kate catches his lips again, though he can barely see where he's going considering this isn't a simple hotel room. Her laugh trickles through the air and she tries not to squeak when he reaches for the door handle and kicks open the door.
"You're such an idiot, y'know," she mumbles lightheartedly, nipping at his earlobe before he lays her out on the bed, her skirt already shoved up around her hips. He runs his hands down her sides and she props herself up on her elbows as he slides down and drags his fingers down her legs.
"My, my, Katie, you have changed," he says, tracing his fingers over the total expanse of her tattoo. It is indeed an ivory grip pistol and a six shooter revolver that are both oddly familiar. The guns are tied together with a familiar gold chain, a small shining cross floating in the space before them. The background is filled in with dessert dunes, praying hands, yellow eyes and the mask of a lucho fighter. The fancy frame is filled with two geckos at the top, their tails intertwined, an ornate cross, the words love thy father and a half bloomed white rose.
"I gotta life to catalogue, thought I'd start by markin' up my own body so I won't ever forget," she says, not wanting to talk about tattoos. She wants to feel his lips over her inner thighs and his fingers slipping into her. She does not want to discuss the reasons behind her ink.
"Never forget," he says, brushing the pads of his fingers over each gecko and the barrel of the gun that looks as close to Richie's as Kate could describe from memory.
Kate sighs and falls back, spreading her hands over her abdomen. "Are you just gonna trace my tattoos all night? I thought you needed to talk," she says, barely finishing before he spreads her legs with his palms and kisses her inner thigh like he knows she likes. Kate lets out a huff of air. "That's better," she murmurs into the dim corners of her room.
It's like no time has passed. He knows just where to move his hands and tongue to meet her favorite spots and soon her panties are on the floor, her dress is up around her waist and her hips are rocking against his hand. He catches her moans in his mouth and she digs her nails into his upperarms. He doesn't let her come. She whines and gets to her tiptoes, shoving his clothes off his frame, older and covered with a few more scars than she remembers. His tattoo still licks down his arm and she trails her fingers down the design before she takes off his pants and pushes him onto the bed.
She keeps her dress on but straddles his legs and trails open mouthed kisses from his Adam's apple to his abs, still slightly defined there and even more appealing in his older age. Kate slides her hand over his length and smirks against his skin as it grows harder against her palm. She nips at the skin over his hip and slides up his form, scraping her nails over his chest.
"Tell me you've missed me," she says softly, pressing her lips against his chin for a moment. His own hands settle against her waist, still covered in the bunched up material of her dress.
"Oh," he says, taking in a breath that raises his chest against her fingers. "I've missed you, princess."
She smiles and slides down on his shaft. Seth breathes out and Kate digs her nails into his shoulders and moves her hips in ways that makes it impossible for him to catch his breath.
"I never taught you that," Seth says, crossing his arm over the small of her back and rolling her over onto her back, pressing her down against the mattress.
Kate scrapes her nails down his back and smirks against his lips. "I've been practicing," she says softly before he sits back and lifts her hips in his hands and she wiggles down against the blankets and grips the material in her fists. "And you're outta practice," she gasps out, moving her own hips against his thrusts and letting him toy with her clit until she grinds her teeth and her eyes flutter closed.
"Says who?" Seth smirks, pulling her against him harder and feeling her muscles tense until she orgasms and gasps out a prayer. Her whole body shudders from her nerves lighting on fire. She tells him to keep going. He does for a handful more thrusts until he grabs her torso with his arms and pulls her up against him, pausing for a moment to tug off her dress. Her breasts and perky nipples brush against his chest and she rolls her hips, breathing heavy. His breathing is just as haggard and he presses a smirk against her temple.
"Come on, thief," she whispers into his ear, just before he hits just the right spot and she digs her nails into his back and he moans.
"Jesus, Katie," he pants, leaning her back against the bed. She slides her hands around his shoulders and presses her palms against his pecs, all dreamy smiles and bruised lips below him. He drags his blunt nails up her ribs and rests his cheek against her chest for a moment before she pushes him off of her and slides her hands around his face.
"Not bad, old man," she says, kissing him lightly before he moves off and rolls onto the other half of the bed.
"I'm not old," he says into the room lit only by the light from the kitchen. "You're no spring chicken either, sweetheart." He throws an arm over and rests the back of his hand against the slope of her abdomen.
Kate smirks, the warmth and tingling feelings receding from the ends of her fingers. "I've missed you, too, Seth, in case you were wondering," she says after a beat.
"Hmmm? I had no idea." She hears him teasing even though she can't see him.
"Shut up, smartass," she shakes her head and pushes herself to her elbows before swinging her legs off the bed. "I need a shower." She says nothing more, stretching her arms over her head and walking naked through the living room to the bathroom across the way.
She scrubs the sweat and sex off of her and cleans the hairspray out of her long locks before Seth decides he wants to join her.
"Did I say you could come in here?" she asks, though her eyes are screaming mockery. The shower is a stall, so there's no tub to move around in. She lets him slide under the water as she massages conditioner through her hair. His skin is tanner than she remembers, and she finds the grey in his hair extremely attractive.
"Just like old times," he says, although they had never actually taken a shower together that didn't involve a sobbing Kate and blood stained clothes.
"You're delusional," she says and pokes him until he moves. She steps face first into the water and lets it run over her scalp. Kate pulls her hair over her shoulder and she feels his hands swipe across her back between her shoulderblades.
"What's this?" he asks, tracing his fingers over the simple lettering tattooed at the bottom of her neck.
"Lumen et salutem," she says, letting him move his hands down her skin. "Light and salvation." Seth's hands fall and she turns around to better scrub the hydrating agent from her hair. "I thought it was fitting."
He nods and covers his hands with soap. "Very," he says simply.
She scrubs from roots to tips and steps away from the stream and closer to him, his body covered in suds. She takes his head in her hands and leans up to kiss him softly before she rinses off her hands and steps out to let him finish.
Kate wraps herself in a towel and wrings out her hair over the sink. In her room, she pulls on a soft cotton shirt and clean panties before wrapping her hair in the towel. Seth ties a towel around his own waist and joins her in the living room.
"Here," she tosses him a pair of polyester lounge pants that were left over from a boyfriend that Kate scared away. Seth doesn't ask where she got them and pulls them on. "Midnight snack?"
He sits on her couch and spreads out like he owns the place. She flips her hair over and squeezes out the extra water, letting her damp clumps of hair to fall down her back. "What've you got?" he asks, rolling his head back, eyes facing skyward.
"Hmmm…" Kate leans down into the fridge after laying her towel over the back of one of the breakfast bar chairs. "Extra sharp cheddar cheese and…saltines." She laughs and turns to face him. "There's a twenty-four hour Mexican place around the corner, I can call in an order."
Seth chuckles but agrees and she joins him on the couch with a cell phone, melting into his side and ordering them some tacos and rice. Once she hangs up, she tosses her phone against the coffee table and settles back against him.
He once again trails his fingers over her thigh tattoo. "This is pretty great y'know. How long did it take you to figure out all the pieces?" He moves his index finger over the lucho fighter mask.
Kate sucks in a breath and leans her head back against his shoulder. "I had enough personal inspiration to get ideas from."
He drags his other fingertips up her arm to her shoulder. "No snakes?" he asks lightly.
She rolls her eyes. "I don't want to be reminded of the bad, only the good." She pulls her legs under her and leans against him even more, resting her hand against his chest and keeping her eyes closed. "Even though you're both good and bad, you still count."
Seth smirks against her hair and rests his hands against her side and her thigh, rubbing his thumbs over her skin and t-shirt in small circular motions. "Good to know, princess."
They stay quiet for a while until there's a knock on the door signaling the arrival of their food. The apartment is soon filled with the scents of chili spices and they're both caught in between the past and present, like the scars etched out against their skin as permanent reminders.