Intoxicated (5 page)

In a stroke of luck, he had been able to book an up and coming popular local band, The Smoking Buttholes, for Friday night and anticipated a full house. This could be the shot in the arm his bank account needed. Still, the idea of two hundred sweating drunken bodies crammed into a building without air conditioning sounded like cruel and unusual punishment. It was a well-known fact that excessive heat led to shorter tempers and increased brawling. The rising tensions between the bikers and the metal heads were already a real threat, a situation which didn’t need any encouragement.

The buzzer at the back door cut through the silence like an air horn, startling him, the obnoxious sound splitting his skull like an ax. That had to be the technician; he wasn’t expecting any more deliveries for the day. Relief was short-lived as the buzzer rang again, jolting every nerve in his body. One hand gripped his temples as he climbed over the remaining beer cases scattered in the hallway.
 

He swung open the heavy steel security door and came face to face with his worst nightmare –
Chelsea
. Warning bells joined the pounding blood between his temples as she brushed past him in a cloud of perfume that rolled his stomach. He’d been avoiding her for weeks, knowing with one hundred percent certainty that it was only a matter of time before she found him and began to systematically destroy his life.

The woman strode into the hallway, dressed to kill in a short skirt and halter top, looking too thin and too pale, but otherwise much better than she had the last time he had seen her two months ago. He used to consider her sexy as hell; now the sight of her made his stomach turn. She was still pretty in that predatory cat kind of way, but the shortcomings of her character blotted out any attraction he might have once felt.

The technician showed up at that exact moment or Jack would have thrown her out on her ass without a second thought. Instead, he briefed the man on the problem then returned to find her in his office sitting behind his desk, rifling through the drawers like a deranged squirrel foraging for nuts. He stood in the doorway watching her until she sensed his presence and looked up with an unabashed grin.

“Where are your cigarettes? I’m dying for a smoke.” She resumed digging.

“I quit,” he said. “And there’s no smoking in the building. You’ll have to go outside.” And once she went outside, he’d bolt the door behind her.

“
You
quit smoking?” She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Right.” The laughter died on her lips as he strode around to her side of the desk.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone. What part of that did you not understand?” He slammed the drawer shut with a
bang
, narrowly missing her fingers. Nothing ever changed with her. She was as irritating as that damned back door buzzer. With a heavy sigh, he removed her forcibly from his chair and took a seat there himself.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you weren’t glad to see me.” Her lower lip jutted out in an insincere pout. There had been a time when that expression might have tugged at his heart, but those days were long past.

“What do you want? More money?” He sat back in his chair, assessing her. “Well, tough shit. I’m broke. You won’t get another cent out of me. You’ll have to find some other sucker to bleed dry.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jack. What makes you think I want something? Maybe I’m just here to see you.” As she smiled, the slanted blue eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement.

“You never do anything without an ulterior motive.”
 

“I could say the same about you.” She parked her butt on the edge of his desk and swung a long leg back and forth. “Why are you always so pissed at me? You’re not still upset about that little thing that happened, are you?”

He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands before he spoke. “It wasn’t a little thing. You slept with my brother.”

“I don’t know why you keep bringing that up. It was years ago. You know, it’s not healthy to harbor so much negativity inside. Maybe you should take some anger management classes…”

“Look, Chels, I’m busy. Say what you need to say and get out.” She cocked her head to one side like a bird. Not wanting to encourage her with conversation, he waited while she formulated her next move. An all too familiar expression of contemplation hovered on the heart-shaped face; he could see the wheels turning behind those exotic eyes and knew that danger lurked just around the corner.

“I don’t want anything from you, Jack. I’m in town on business and wanted to say hello.” She hopped onto the corner of his desk, crossing her long shapely legs at the knee, baring a good deal of thigh in the process.

“You don’t know anyone here. You’re unemployed. What business could you possibly have here?”
 

“Oh, this and that.” She attempted to pick up a stack of invoices from the desk, but he slammed a hand down on the papers. She jumped to her feet. “Geesh! What is your problem?”

“You are my problem,” he said, as the pounding between his temples started up once more. He needed aspirin and a beer, maybe several beers, if he ever wanted to feel normal again. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. Now take your scrawny ass out of here before I throw you out.”

His frustration hit new heights when she made no attempt to move. He abhorred violence against women but his fingers curled at the intoxicating idea of wrapping around her slender neck and choking the life out of her.
 

“I thought maybe we could grab some dinner or go see a movie or something.” One long fingernail like a talon traced the outline of the desk calendar as she peered up at him through thick black lashes. “You know… maybe
catch up
on things.” The subtle change in intonation over the words
catch up
let him know exactly what was on her mind and it wasn’t conversation.

 
Their last little reunion had resulted in one of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made and damned if he was eager to repeat that disaster any time soon. With uncanny perception, she’d caught him in a weak moment, and they’d tumbled into bed like two horny teenagers. Their little interlude had meant nothing to him — hell, he’d been so drunk that he hardly remembered it — but she clung to it with a desperation that made his gut wrench. He’d already wasted too many years of his life on her. Damn if he would squander even another second on her deceitful, traitorous ass.
 

He said nothing but stood up, took her by the elbow, and propelled her toward the door. She huffed but let him escort her out of the office, brushing her shiny black hair out of her eyes with a free hand. When they reached the back door, she jerked her arm away and straightened her top with an indignant scowl.
 

“You don’t have to be so mean about it.” A scowl creased her pale forehead as she dug through her purse for the car keys. “I thought maybe we could hang out like we used to. I miss you, Jack. We used to be best friends.”

She was wrong; they had never been friends. Their relationship had been fueled by cocaine and sex, nothing more. He had to be mean, had to harden his heart against her. Otherwise, she would prey on his sympathies and worm her way back into his life quicker than a flash of lightning. Her presence was the last thing he needed when he had finally begun to pull his life together. Just because her life was in the toilet didn’t mean she had to drag him in there with her. The girl must have some kind of radar that honed in on his impending happiness, allowing her to swoop in like a vulture and tear it all apart.

“Chelsea, for the last time, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest. You should try it sometime. You and I have nothing to say to each other anymore.” He nudged her toward the door.
 

The harsh tone of his voice gave her pause. The blue eyes widened and for an instant, he imagined the glimmer of tears. That misguided notion made him laugh out loud. It must have been the reflection from the bare light bulb overhead. She wasn’t capable of any sincere emotion. She raised a hand to caress his cheek. His skin twitched under the touch of her cool fingers.

“When did you stop loving me, Jack?”
 

“I never loved you. Remember? We’ve been over this a million times.” He swatted her hand away and gave her another small push toward the door, herding her over the threshold, using his size against her.
 

“We’ll always be tied to each other.”

“The only tie we ever had was our lifestyle. And if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been away from that stuff for years. If you had any brains, you’d get away from it too.”
 

 
She snorted at that, tossed her hair, and straightened. The girl had tenacity, or maybe it was just the inability to realize when she was defeated.
 

“Who is she? Anyone I know?” She smiled at him in a patronizing way that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. That knowing smirk pissed him off, as if she knew him better than himself. He groaned in exasperation and scrubbed his face with both hands.

 
“None of your business.”
 

“That’s not a denial.” She studied his face with shrewd blue eyes. “Whoever she is, I hope she’s prepared for a lifetime of heartbreak and disappointment. You kinda suck at relationships.”

He forced his face to go blank. Chelsea had honed in on the very thing that he himself hadn’t been able to admit. For the first time in years, he dared to hope that there was someone, or the possibility of someone, in his future. That tiny glimmer of hope, no matter how miniscule, was the only thing holding him together lately.
 

With Chelsea finally gone, Jack sat down behind his desk. From force of habit, he grabbed his cell phone and scrolled through the contact list in search of female companionship, someone to take away the dull ache of emptiness that he always felt after an encounter with her. He started to hit redial on his cell then stopped himself midway. Did he really want to open up that Pandora’s Box? The best he could possibly hope for was another one night stand with a girl he didn’t really like. He was getting so tired of waking up in someone else’s bed. The pounding behind his eyes increased. He scrubbed his face with his hands to ease the tension. After a few more minutes of contemplation, he opened the top desk drawer to search for some aspirin among the cluster of ink pens and paper clips that rested there. There was no aspirin, but he did find a lone cigarette, trapped behind a roll of tape, a stapler, and Ally’s panties.
 

The satin slipped through his fingers like a whisper, evocative of their owner and the kiss in the hallway. Without a doubt, he’d sacrifice a dozen meaningless encounters for one chance at a significant relationship with Ally. She was so different from what he was used to…so together. Most of the girls he knew had the depth of a mud puddle, but Ally’s green eyes seemed fathomless. The need to learn the secrets held within those emerald depths had him craving her like a drug. The memory of her confrontation with Brian, her calm and cool reception despite what had to be a torrent of emotions raging behind her composure, brought a smile to his lips.
Controlled
…that was the word. Lacking that quality himself, her self-control fascinated him. He’d like to break that control. When he’d kissed her, he felt that control slip to reveal just a taste of the passion that lurked inside her, and man, it had tasted good.

Who was he kidding? Ally would never get involved with him. She had more class in her little finger than he could ever hope to possess. Chelsea’s words of warning echoed in his head.
You kind of suck at relationships.
Of course Chelsea would say that. Her only ambition in life was to make him miserable, a skill which she had perfected over the years. Any trouble he had maintaining a relationship stemmed directly from the mental torture he’d suffered at her hands. The crazy bitch would be a challenge to any relationship he might hope to have. With a sigh, he shoved the panties back into the drawer. He’d have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

CHAPTER FIVE

On the other side of town, Ally heaved a sigh at the mountain of paperwork on her desk. The muscles in her neck and shoulders contracted, sending a spike of pain straight into the center of her brain. The frequency and intensity of those headaches were directly proportional to the ever growing stress in her life. With a groan, she yanked open her bottom desk drawer and rummaged for the bottle of aspirin she kept there. Something had to change or her head would explode. As she washed down two caplets with a drink of bottled water, her cell phone vibrated. She didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it was on the other end of the line. Brian had left numerous voicemails since their encounter at Felony, most of which Ally had deleted unheard. They ranged from angry to indifferent, with requests to collect his belongings from her house, meet for lunch, or concern for her general welfare. In fact, he’d called her more in the last few days than he had in the past three months of their relationship.

Seeking more pleasant thoughts, she chewed on the end of her pencil and stared out the window of her office with visions of Jack in her mind. The weekend was only a few days away and she was tempted to make a return appearance at Felony but feared she’d lose another pair of panties and maybe her self-respect in the process. There was something about that guy that she couldn’t resist. The memory of his embrace sent her pulse into overdrive. Heat rushed from her chest up to her neck then into her face. She fanned her cheeks with the weekly financial statement.