Trapped Under Ice (24 page)

After dinner, Beth kissed Cassie goodbye, and she and her two male companions piled into the car for the short trip to
Wapella.

Beth had visited the bar before with her lunch lady friends, so she knew the somewhat gruff owner, Chuck. He and everybody else in the place, most of whom seemed to be older farmers, gave Chad the once-over. They didn’t often have long-haired strangers in the bar, but they left him and Pete alone. She set at once to the task of washing glasses and cleaning behind the bar, and after awhile, the owner seemed satisfied enough to go back to his office to do some paperwork.

Around eight-thirty, a large group of younger people strolled in, raising the volume about a hundred percent. They pounded quarters into a jukebox, which Chad commented earlier featured absolutely no Trapped Under Ice tunes. Country music was blaring, and by nine-thirty the group was well on its way to being liquored up. While Pete stopped at two, Chad pounded away the beers at a steady pace, eying his fellow bar mates with suspicion.

Beth was leaning across the bar, having a conversation with Chad, when a particularly loud customer whistled for her. Chad stared at him darkly as she sauntered down the length of the bar, taking her time, irritated at being summoned like some kind of dog.

“Yes,
sir
,” she intoned icily. “What can I do for you?”

“Umm, baby, I’m guessing from your looks, a whole lot.” His friends jeered. “Nah, I’m just
kiddin’,” he stated, backing off. “Where’s Kim tonight?”

“She had carpal tunnel surgery today.”

“Hum.” He threw a knowing look at his companions. “I wonder what kind of repetitive motion she was doing.” His group laughed again as he made an obscene gesture.

She chose to ignore his rudeness, figuring he was just trying to get her riled up. “Is there anything you needed?” she asked again tiredly.

“Yeah, babe. Get me a couple of shots of Wild Turkey.”

Chad sat at the other end of the bar clenching and unclenching his fists, getting madder by the second over the way the jerk was treating Beth. She poured the customer his drinks and turned around to put his money in the cash register. As if in slow motion, Chad saw him stand on the foot rail of the bar and reach over to grab her ass.

Before anyone knew what was happening, he crossed the room, snatched one of the guy’s friends by the back of the jacket, and tossed him out of the way. With his friends standing around in a tight circle, Chad pulled the guy off the bar, grabbed his shirt front, and reached back to deliver a punch to his face, full-force.

Beth turned around, ready to ream the guy out, only to see him come flying in from nowhere.

Pete, who had stepped across the street to get a pack of cigarettes, entered the bar just as Chad’s elbow was pulled back to deliver the first blow. “Oh shit! Here we go again.”

Beth scrambled to gather all the beer bottles off the bar so they could not be used as weapons, which infuriated several of the men now jumping Chad. She searched for Pete and saw him pushing his way through the crowd, yanking guy after guy out of the fray as he made his way over. She saw Chad’s nose was already bloodied and one guy was holding his head back by his hair while another guy got ready to punch him. She launched herself across the bar and latched onto the assailant’s arm, hoping at least her weight would slow the punch down. Just then, there was a loud shot. Everyone froze. Chuck was standing in the entrance to the back hall, holding what appeared to be a starter pistol, still smoking, over his head.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Chad and a number of others started yelling out accusations. Chuck waved his arms, still holding the gun.

“All right! All right! Enough! Beth, you and your asshole boyfriend need to get out of here.”

The competitors stared at each other for a couple of seconds as if unwilling to quit, but then there was the general noise of people releasing their hold on others and straightening their clothes. Chad’s opponents smirked at him, but seemed disappointed they weren’t going to get a chance to do more damage to his face. For Chad’s part, he appeared to be holding back on his anger with a strand of two-pound test line.

Beth slid, rather ungracefully, to the floor on her side of the bar. She grabbed her purse and jacket from a shelf and exited. As she passed Chuck, she murmured, “I’m so sorry, Chuck.”

“That’s okay, Beth,” he mumbled, almost being kind. “It’s not your fault,” he added loud enough for Chad to hear, his eyes blazing. Pete was already escorting him out the front door. She slid past where people were picking up stools and broken glass.

“Do you want me to stay and pick up at least?”

Chuck looked past her, out the window where he could see Chad wildly gesturing at Pete as he paced back and forth. “I think you better just get out of here, Beth.”

She turned around again, feeling the eyes of everyone on her. She skirted the small crowd trying to bring the guy who grabbed her back to consciousness.

When she stepped out into the parking lot, she could tell Pete and Chad were arguing. They stopped and stared at her, their breath turning to frost in the particularly cool March air. “Are you okay?” she asked Pete.

“Yeah. I’m all right,” he replied brusquely, obviously still ticked at Chad for starting the fight.

She turned her eyes on Chad. He looked pretty messed up, and her heart went out to him. For a minute, she thought about going to him, but then anger washed over her in a wave. She spun on her heal and stormed off in the direction of the car.

“Beth…” she heard him say behind her, but she just got in the car and slammed the door shut.

“Don’t you say anything,” he warned Pete.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

They got into the car, and for the first fifteen minutes of the trip, there was complete silence, except for the sound of Chad drumming on his knee. Pete vacillated between wanting the pending fight between them to start, so he could get his two-cents worth in with Chad, and praying it wouldn’t, because he would feel uncomfortable being witness to it. But after awhile, much to his relief, it seemed as if they had totally forgotten he was there.

Beth stared stonily out the front window. Chad gazed out the side window, with one knee bent, leaning against the door; his other leg was as straight as it could be in such confined quarters. He would occasionally glance over at her and appear as if he was going to say something, then seemed to think better of it and looked away. Finally, he caught her eye.

“Beth, the guy’s hand was on your ass.”

“I’m perfectly aware his hand was on my ass, seeing as it was
my ass his hand was on!
” she screamed. There were another several seconds of silence punctuated by the sound, again, of his fingers thumping up and down on his blue jeans. With a suddenness that jarred both men, she said, “I mean, didn’t you think I could take care of myself? My God, I put a man in the hospital in St. Louis with a broken nose and a concussion. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” In truth, the whole fight had her rattled. Besides what happened in St. Louis, she had never witnessed a fight before, let alone been a participant in one.

“Oh, okay, Beth,” he muttered, letting a thread of sarcasm leak into his voice. “So what exactly
were you going to do?” he challenged.

“I guess we’ll never know, because I didn’t even have a chance to react.”

There was another uncomfortable silence. She glanced sideways at him for a moment, and noticed his nose had started to bleed again. He became aware of it at the same time. “Here,” she said, handing him some tissues from the middle console. After a few minutes, she added in a much softer tone, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered, the word laced with self-loathing. He bent his head back to try to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, Beth. It’s just, when I saw him touching you, something exploded in me.”

Pete felt like adding, “Something always explodes in you,” but kept his mouth shut. He had asked himself many times why he stayed with the hot-headed rocker, and it always boiled down to the fact that beneath all of his bullshit, Chad was a good guy.

“That guy got what he had coming,” Chad added, with a little bit of the anger they saw earlier.

“Well, I’m not going to argue the point. But if we went around punching everybody who pissed us off, we’d all have broken noses and bruised knuckles. It doesn’t solve anything.”

“It made me feel better,” he replied with a childlike air.

“Chad!” she spouted, exasperated.

“All right. All right. I let my temper get away with me and I’m sorry. If I had it to do again, I would walk over and say something to him, let him take the first swing, and then deck him.”

She sighed. “I’m not sure we’re getting anywhere here.” But her initial fury had left her. They pulled into the hotel parking lot. “Has it stopped bleeding?”

He sniffed. “Yeah. I think so.”

She turned to Pete apologetically. “Pete, are you sure you’re all right?”

He wanted to say when he signed on he expected to protect Chad if someone attacked him, not defend him when he attacked somebody else, but gazing into her eyes, he just couldn’t do it. So, even though he had a cut across one hand and he was pretty sure he pulled something in his left shoulder, he said, “I’m fine, Beth.”

They made their way up to their adjoining rooms. Pete opened his door. “If there’s anyone lurking in your room, I’m sure Chad can take care of them,” he said with his last bit of resentment.

Chad reached out and touched his shoulder. “Hey man, I’m sorry.”

Pete turned to him, his eyes blazing, but when he saw the hang-dog expression on Chad’s face, he hesitated. They locked eyes for a minute, something passing between them, and then he opened his door and went inside without saying a word.

Maybe I should have said something; maybe I should have warned her.
Pete sighed.
But when he looks at me that way and I see how lost he is, I just can’t do it. It would be like kickin’ a dog that continually peed on the carpet. It would only hurt him and probably serve no purpose.

“She’s his only hope,” Pete said aloud to the empty room, “and he’s going to blow it.”

***
         

Chad leaned against the door with his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh of relief. He sensed Pete’s urge to tell Beth everything, every fight he’d been in, his DUI, all of the awful things the old Chad did. But now that he had her in his life, he wasn’t going to stray down that path again.

Then, why the fight tonight
? He suddenly felt tired beyond bearing.

“Chad, are you okay?”

Yeah. Now that’s the question, isn’t it
? He could hear his father’s voice inside his head like a repeating rifle. “I’m fine.” He sighed in a way that indicated he was anything but. He stumbled over to the bed and fell into it.

She lumbered over to the bed, trancelike, and stood over him, saying at last, “I have to go.”

His eyes popped open. “No. Not yet.” He grabbed her hand and sat up at the end of the bed. “Come here,” he pleaded, pulling her down into his lap. “I’m so sorry, Beth. I should have let you handle it. I shouldn’t have gone berserk. I was a complete and utter ass. Will you forgive me?”

She pushed the hair away from his face with her fingertips, sighing. “I already did. We all make mistakes, Chad.”

He felt a wave of relief; the grace Beth offered floored him. He reached behind her neck and craned his until their lips met. He drew her in, little by little, taking her under. As she felt the initial slide of surrender, a resounding “yes” pulsed through her brain. Yes, I love him. Yes, I need him. His breath tasted pleasantly of beer as he twisted to lay her down on the bed. He kissed her neck, his hand sliding down to touch the soft skin on her upper chest, and he started to unbutton her blouse.

“Please, don’t go tonight,” he breathed.

He made it all too easy to agree. His hand was underneath her shirt now, caressing her. She resisted, battling against the tide threatening to sweep her away. “I have to go.”

He couldn’t say goodbye to her again. Not tonight. His hand traveled over the smooth skin of her waist, over jeans on the front of her thigh. It stopped at her knee, and then moved to the back, moving slowly over the back of her thigh. He could feel her heat.

“Ohh,” she moaned. “I have to go.” She rolled away from him, nearly toppling off the other side of the bed, and stood up. “I’m sorry.” She fought to explain, to find the reason despite the blood rushing to her head. “It’s just, Cassie’s at an impressionable age and I don’t want her to think it’s okay”—he stood and crossed to her and put his hands on her hips—“I mean for people of her age—”

He moved a finger to her lips. “
Sh-sh-sh. I understand.” Having his finger there, it was as if he couldn’t resist. He traced her lips and she closed her eyes, hands freezing midway through buttoning her blouse. With a show of will power, she took a large step backward. He moved toward her.

“Nah-ah-ah.” She took another step back, knocking into the dresser. She smiled at him. “You stay over there.”