Authors: Lori L. Clark
"I
don't want to hear it. You know as well as I do that his good behavior won't
last," she paced back and forth across the kitchen floor. "What are
you going to do the next time he fucks up? Do you have any idea how lucky you
are that he hasn't killed you?"
I stared down at the floor, "What
do you suggest I do?
"I've already told you what I
think, but I can't make you do anything you don't want to do," She stopped
pacing and sat down at the table. She blinked a couple of times and I realized
she was trying hard not to cry. "Jaq, I'm just afraid for you. I don't
want to watch them carry you out in a body bag."
I swallowed a grapefruit-sized lump and
nodded, "Stop worrying, okay? I'll be fine."
Her chair scraped against the tiles as
she stood, "If he ever so much as touches a hair on your head again, I
will make sure he pays for it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," I said.
"Can
you go to prison for super gluing a guy's dick to his leg?" She tapped a
finger against her chin in contemplation. "I don't want to go to
prison."
I
shrugged, "How the hell should I know. Why don't you Google it?" I
was only teasing, but she took off down the hall.
"Great
idea!" she called over her shoulder.
I
knew Shelley would never approve of me seeing Damon again. Now she'd planted a
seed in my brain. What if he
did
lose his temper again and no one was
around to save me? What if things went too far next time, did I really want to
take that chance?
Shelley
and I were busy doing the domestic goddess thing when she piped up with the
bright idea, "I should totally call Shannon and see if she wants to go to
that karaoke bar tonight."
I
rolled my eyes, "Oh be still my heart.
How exciting
."
"Hush
you," she threw a sock in my direction. "It'll be fun. You had fun
the last time, right?"
"Which
part of that night was fun? The part where that skank was ready to kick my ass
for wanting to shoot pool with her boyfriend?" I folded my arms across my
chest. "Or watching Shan go full-out cougar?"
Shelley
jumped off the couch, ignoring my sarcasm and invited Shannon to be our
designated driver for the night. She smiled broadly at me, "Don't be that
way Jaq, it'll be fun."
The bar was no less packed with country
bumpkins tonight than it was the last time we were here. I scanned the room
while Shelley made her way through the cowboy clones to get our drinks. Shannon
and I managed to find a table with two barstools in a dark back corner.
"Right outside the men's bathroom? Really Shan, obvious much?" I
teased.
She
frowned and said, "Do you see any other empty tables?"
Shelley
reappeared carrying a tray with a couple bottles of beer, a soda for Shannon
and two creamy-looking shots. "What the hell are those?" I asked
pointing to the shot glasses.
A
grin crept across her face, "Cowboys." She passed one shot to me and
kept one for herself and added, "Or Slippery Nipples, whichever you
prefer."
I
quirked an eyebrow at her and downed the sticky sweet drink in one quick
swallow, "Ugh," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"I'll stick to doing tequila."
Shannon
smirked, "Personally? I'd rather do the cowboys."
"God
Shan sometimes you are such a slut," Shelley shoved her sister's shoulder
playfully.
I
laughed at their banter and picked at the label on my beer bottle. I needed to just
disappear and anonymously catch a buzz for the night. Shannon announced that she
wanted to sing and went to find a book of available karaoke songs. Shelley
perched on the stool across the table, and I felt her eyes drilling into me,
"What?" I asked, never taking my eyes off my label-destroying task.
"You
know what you need?" she shouted to be heard above the crowded room.
"Yes,
but I have a feeling your idea and mine are at two totally different ends of
the spectrum," I smiled.
Ignoring
my comment, she continued, "You need to find yourself a
good
man.
You know, one who actually gives a shit about you and won't smack you around for
the hell of it?"
"Maybe
I don't need a man at all," I took a deep breath and puffed out my cheeks,
exhaling slowly.
She
nodded and tapped her bottle against mine, "Nah, you'd miss the sex too
much."
"There
is that," I agreed.
"I
just worry that Damon's going to really hurt you one of these times Jaq,"
she said and reached across the table to squeeze my hand, "You know I love
you, right?"
"I
know you do," I pressed my lips into a thin smile. "But I'm a big
girl and I can take care of myself where Damon's concerned. Besides, I think
he's changed."
Shelley
snorted and rolled her eyes, "Of course he hasn't."
Shannon
walked up with a mischievous grin painted across her face, "I signed us up
to do a song."
"Oh,
hell no," I shook my head and slid off my stool. "I'm going to see if
I can get into a game of pool or maybe darts. Hell, right now, a barroom brawl ranks
higher than singing karaoke. I am not
that
drunk."
Later,
after several shots of tequila and bottles of beer, I was feeling no pain and
still able to focus well enough on the multi-colored balls on the pool table to
win a game or two. I'd just finished kicking some cowboy wannabe's ass and
prepared for my next opponent when Shelley grabbed one of my arms and Shannon
grabbed the other. I dug my heels into the dirty floor and said, "I am not
getting up on that stage."
"Nope,
we're leaving," Shannon said.
"I
just bought a beer," I whined. Shelley reached behind us for the nearly
full bottle and handed it to me. I glowered at the two of them, "Where's
the goddamn fire?"
They
tugged me out the door and exchanged glances, "Not a fire. Not yet. But I
think he told me he's a fireman," Shannon laughed.
"Oh
he did not! He said he likes to put out fires and waggled his eyebrows up and
down," Shelley said between fits of laughter as we climbed into Shannon's
car.
"Same
thing in my book," Shannon said. She nodded her head in the direction of
three very fine looking men climbing into a black pickup across the parking lot
and said, "Who cares? Fireman, policeman, would you like fries with that?
Damn."
One
of the guys walked over to the driver's window and leaned in, "Follow
me."
Shannon
snatched the black cowboy hat off his head and said, "Let's do it."
I
rolled my eyes from the backseat, "Good god what are you two getting me
into?" I muttered.
Black
Hat jogged over and hopped into his Chevy while Shannon peeked at me in the
rearview mirror, "We're going to a party, and oh my god did you see that
guy's tight ass?"
Shelley
snickered, "I know, right?"
I
leaned forward and glanced between the two of them, "Where is this
party?"
Shannon
adjusted her newly acquired hat and beamed, "In my mouth and everybody's
coming!"
"If
I didn't know better, I'd think you were drunk Shan," I said and collapsed
back into the seat. Shelley looked over her shoulder and smiled. I narrowed my
eyes at her and said, "And
you
know better.
You
have a
boyfriend."
"Hush
you. Just because there's one loaf of bread on the counter doesn't mean you
can't have another in the freezer, just in case," Shelley said.
"Loaf
of bread? What the hell are you talking about?" I stared at her in
disbelief. "You'd never cheat on Tim, and we both know it."
"Of
course not," she sighed. "I'm just saying it never hurts to look. As
long as that's all I'm doing. I have no intention of buying anymore loaves of
bread. For now."
The
cackling laughter coming from them was infectious and filled the car. It wasn't
long before I was giggling quietly along with them.
When
we stopped the car in the parking lot of some apartment complex, I put my hand
on the door handle and said, "Let's go get bread ladies."
It
was around midnight when we got to the party, which wasn't really much of a
party until we arrived. I didn't know who the place belonged to, but I vaguely
remembered being at a party in the same apartment complex one other time with
Seth. Twenty or so people were clustered around the tiny living room when we
walked in.
Some guy came into view carrying a
bottle of tequila, and I decided he'd be my new best friend for as long as the
tequila lasted.
"Well,
hello," I whispered to Shelley, nodding towards the skinny guy who wore
nothing but a pair of low slung baggy shorts.
She rolled her eyes and gave me a little
nudge, "Get 'em."
I pursed my lips, "Pfft, I just want
the tequila," I told her and crossed the stained carpeting until I stood
toe-to-toe with Mr. Baggy Shorts. He arched an eyebrow, and his eyes raked
over my body. I held out my hand, "May I?"
He grinned, carving a deep dimple into his
right cheek and handed me the bottle. He said, "It'll put hair on your
chest." Up close, he looked about sixteen and I thought he probably needed
to grow some chest hair of his own.
I tipped the bottle back and took a
hearty swallow. As the tequila began to course through my veins, it started to
revive the buzz I'd had when we left the bar. I took another swig and passed
the bottle back. "I'm Jaq, and I like tequila," I announced.
He reached for the bottle and leaned
against the wall. I wasn't sure if he was getting comfortable or if the wall
was holding him upright. His eyes never left mine as he took a slow drink.
"I'm Trevor," he grinned. "And I like older women."
My eyes narrowed, "What are you,
like twelve?" I teased.
He grabbed the front of his pants,
"I've got your twelve right here."
"Sure you do, tiger," I
laughed and held up my hands, "Easy there jailbait. I'm not after your
body. I just want to use you for your Patrón." I moved beside him to rest
my back against the wall.
"I'm seventeen," he muttered,
staring at me through heavily lidded eyes.
"Okay?" I said.
"The age of consent in Missouri is
seventeen," he said matter-of-factly.
"I'll keep that in mind," I
grabbed the tequila bottle out of his grasp and took a big drink. I crossed my
feet at my ankles and slid slowly down the wall until my butt connected with
the carpeting. He followed suit and sat beside me. I peered sideways at him and
sighed, "I make it a point to never mix business with pleasure, but damn
you're kind of cute."
He tipped his head back against the wall
and stared up at the ceiling, "I get that a lot."
The thing about tequila is that it does strange
things to my libido. I swear my inner slut duct tapes the more rational side of
me to a chair and sticks a sock in her mouth whenever there's tequila
involved. So it's no shock that after several extra-large gulps of the
eighty-proof, mind-erasing silver liquid, my morals were about to fly right out
the window. Buh-bye.
"Fuck, Trevor, get a room,"
some guy barked and nudged his leg.
I blinked a few times, trying to focus and
climbed off of Trevor's lap to adjust my shirt. He stood, albeit wobbly, and stuck
his hand out for me. I let him pull me to my feet and I swayed a little,
lightheaded from standing up so quickly, combined with the tequila coursing
through my veins.
"Where's the bathroom?" I
asked.
"This way," he grinned and
tugged me along behind him and stopped in front of an open door.
"Thanks," I moved around him
and tried shut the door behind me, but he had other ideas. He pressed against
the door and pushed inside the tiny room with me. I folded my arms in front of
my chest and said, "Look, I may be drunk but I'm pretty sure I can still
manage to go to the bathroom by myself."
He crushed me to him and pressed my back
against the door, "I think we need to finish what we started, don't
you?"
I pressed my hand against his chest and
shoved him out of my face. He stumbled back, losing his balance and landed
ungracefully in the bathtub, bringing the shower curtain down around him. A
snort escaped from between my lips, and I turned to leave the room. As soon as
I stepped into the hallway, I heard him bellow, "Bitch!" My face
turned red when everyone got quiet and turned to stare in my direction. I took
a few steps into the living room before he tackled me from behind and sent me
sprawling to the floor.