Caged: Cellar Door Series

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Caged: Cellar Door Series Page 4

by Pars, K.


  If the little minx thought she was going to out bluff me, she’d lost her damn mind. I didn’t know what her game was but I was no quitter, game on.

  She playfully slapped her free hand against my arm, warmth spreading along the limb. Her brows sparkled as she mocked a deeper southern drawl.

  “Well mine’s kind of crowded right now silly. I’m staying with my parents. I guess it will have to be yours.” Kylee’s nose scrunched up and she made a face like she’d smelled something rotten, her lips twitching in amusement. “It’s not covered in dirty socks and underwear is it?”

  Granted I’d gotten my apartment after she’d left for college but damn, the girl had known me my whole life, she knew I took care of what shit I had. When you’d never had much to begin with, you tended to covet what you did. She was pushing all the right buttons to get a rise out of me in more than one way and I couldn’t help but push back.

  I leaned down, my nose inches from hers. “Just a little bit. Nothing I can’t brush off to the floor so you can sit or better yet lay down.” She sucked in a sharp breath before I had us moving again, the groups of people mingling around the dance floor, parting to let us through.

  An annoying high pitched voice called out my name and I cringed inwardly at it. Rhonda, Rachael…shit, Robin, that was the chick’s name. I had hooked up with her a few nights ago and she’d been slow on the uptake about not wanting anything more than just what it had been; a hookup. She seemed all cool with it at first but after banging her out, she’d wanted me to stay the night and I had to squash that shit quick. I was surprised she was calling me out especially when I currently had another females hand tucked in mine. I tossed my chin up in greeting. “Yeah. What do you need Robin?”

  The girl was decked out in her club gear, clearly on the prowl and dressed the way she was you’d think she’d know what kind of attention a guy was going to pay to her and why it wouldn’t last longer than the night. She gave Kylee a once over and rolled her eyes like she was bored by what she saw. Robin clearly needed glasses, maybe some of that Lasik surgery to correct her flawed vision if she thought she could dismiss anything about Kylee.

  Baby girl had natural beauty, the kind that didn’t need enhancement with makeup, the stop in your tracks and take notice kind of looks and had never really known it making her even hotter. Robin wasn’t ugly by far, I didn’t do favors, but she was high maintenance attractive, something that was worked at and created. It was a good bet that the face someone went to sleep with, wasn’t at all what they were getting when they woke up.

  Robin returned her attention to me. “I was just seeing if you’re on the card tonight?” Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly and I was beginning to think maybe this chick was having a seizure or something but she finally stopped the lash beating and looked at me expectantly. The fact she’d brought up anything to do with the fights pissed me straight the hell off. She attended regularly. She knew the rules. You didn’t talk about the fights in public places much less the very same fucking club they actually occurred in.

  It was more than clear by the menace in my voice and the look on my face I wasn’t happy with her little shout out. I clenched my teeth together, squeezing words through them. “You know the damn rules. What the fuck are you thinking? You ever want to grace those fucking doors again you better keep your damn trap glued shut about that shit.” I felt fingers squeezing into my hand and it took me a second to remember that I had Kylee’s hand still in mine, her soft voice pulling my temper back from the ledge it was about to jump off.

  “J.D.?” I swung my head around and met Kylee’s stare while Robin spluttered through an attempted apology while all but running back where she came from, thank fuck.

  There were questions in Kylee’s eyes along with a flash of something I couldn’t name. The question she did ask wasn’t what I expected. Gone was the playful banter we’d been having; instead there was a seriousness swirling around in the pools of her eyes. “You want to grab something to eat?”

  I was tempted to try to pull her back into the game we’d been playing about hooking up, one we’d joked about all the time back in high school, but it was clear that moment had passed. Sighing I released Kylee’s hand and nodded before we headed to the door knowing shit was going to go south in a hurry and yet I was walking right into the storm anyway. I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Sure. I can grub.”

  Chapter 3

  Swinging my leg over the gas tank of my bike, I watched Kylee park her truck and removed my helmet with a soft chuckle. Some things were ingrained in a person and it was apparent by Kylee’s mode of transportation that her small town roots still ran deep and for some reason that was comforting as hell. My helmet in my hand, I moved to the entrance of the restaurant and held the door open for Kylee to pass through before following. I would have paid serious bank to get back to the light hearted banter we’d had earlier. She’d taken her time finding me and it was beyond clear she had her reasons, one’s I couldn’t begin to understand but at the same time had complete clarity about. Fuck me….I could pretend to be stump stupid but that wouldn’t fly with Kylee. I’d hurt here when I’d pushed her away. She had no idea what her reception might have been so I’m sure she had to work up to it.

  Settling on one side of the booth that a waitress showed us to in the little Italian joint, Kylee slid in opposite of me and immediately ordered a glass of water with a lemon which I followed up with a request for a beer. My stomach was tying itself in knots, big fat ones; the kind you weren’t sure you’d ever get out.

  Friday night, no fight, no drunken stupor yet, it wasn’t my norm by any stretch of an imagination. If anyone could pry shit out of me, it was Kylee. Thing was I didn’t really want her too, too much was housed inside me and if the dam was ripped open I feared Kylee would run for the fucking hills. She was the one fucking person that could get close, could break down walls I’d built in fucking stone and fortified with concrete and I knew I’d do nothing but disappoint the hell out of her at the end of a day. I couldn’t take the depths of her big browns tearing me apart. I’d rather stand in the cage with multiple opponents holding any variety of weapons to rain as much pain as they could than deal with the hurt I could cause her.

  The waitress passed us both menu’s, Kylee’s shielding her face as I laid mine down in front of me and waited as patiently as I could for my beer. I felt like a truck load of gravel had been dumped down my throat while I waited for Kylee to start. She was on a mission; that much I caught off the first look she gave me. Her little game had just been a means to an end, one that the smash and dash chick, Robin, had interrupted. Either way, I knew deep in my fucking bones that Kylee was just looking to get me out of Cellar Door so she could ambush me. Fucking hell….and even knowing it hadn’t stopped me from following. Saying no to Kylee was a weakness, a huge one.

  The waitress returned with our drinks and looked back and forth between us once before settling on my face, dismissing Kylee. A quick bag and tag could have easily enough been pulled off with the female, her interest was as subtle as a neon sign shouting “lets get to it”, but it didn’t feel right even thinking about doing shit like that in front of Kylee. Never mind Kylee was a fucking 10, the waitress wasn’t even close.

  Even if I was nothing more than a once upon a time friend, even if Kylee had heard the shit I’d been up to while she was gone, I wasn’t gonna rub in her face just how much of an asshole I could be. One of my brow’s quirked up as I placed my order, daring the chick to try to take it further than doing her job, letting her know I’d shut that shit down worse than Fort Knox.

  “Philly cheese steak, double meat, double cheese all the way. Kylee wants an antipasto salad, extra Italian dressing with a side of fries covered in cheese.” The waitress scribbled out the order, her eyes glued to the pad she was toting after getting my message, turning on her heel and heading to put in the order. The swish of her hips was much milder than when she’d walked over to our booth.

  “Maybe
I wanted something different. God! Do you have to be so damn….you!” Kylee’s nose was scrunched up, peeking over the top of the menu that I could have bet good money on she’d hadn’t even glanced at yet and I felt frustration taking hold of me. I’d known her longer than she’d known herself. Sue me for it. I knew what the hell she was going to order but apparently I had a knack for pissing Kylee off in zero to thirty seconds without making an effort too. Damn talented right here. I needed to find a podium or some shit so my medal could be awarded.

  “Yeah and maybe the sky’s changed color. I’m me. Never been more or less. Just how it is baby girl.” Raising my beer to my lips I took a long swallow as Kylee’s fury built. I cut her off before she could begin the tirade I knew was about to erupt.

  “Look Kylee. Let’s be real. Always have been with you. It’s your fucking favorite. I know it, you know it. Why is it dickish that I placed the order you would have anyway? It’s not a god damn competition. It’s an order.” I tipped my beer up and opened my throat finishing it off as fast as I could.

  I was having a hard time reconciling the woman sitting right across from me with the girl I’d known, but know her I full on fucking well did. Woman, girl, child. I knew them all. Each one of those pieces of her lived in me in different ways I was determined she would never know about. It was all I had, they were mine and I’d be damned to hell and worse before I let anyone try to take them from me. I knew I couldn’t have Kylee, but I would always have the memories of our friendship, the moments in time that made her all mine like her asking me to take her to her first dance and me doing it. Those pieces I never had to share with anyone else.

  Kylee’s menu was folded so sharply the vinyl coated pages smacked against one another before she slapped it against the table like the menu was her problem, I knew better. She raised her water to her mouth, her lips parting just enough to allow the cool liquid to flow past them, the ice bumping against the soft pillow of her top lip before the glass was lowered and set back on the table. Kylee’s big brown’s drilled into me like I was a puzzle she just had to figure out. Sad thing was….she knew every piece, time hadn’t changed that. All she had to do was figure out how to put them all together and I’d be fucked.

  I realized my eyes hadn't left her mouth, had been trapped starring and I had to pull my gaze from them by sheer will power. Damn it. My fork and knife became the most interesting shit I'd ever seen. It was like introducing utensils to a caveman who’d never seen them. I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the fork, touching the tines, testing them to see how easily they might bend. Anything to keep my eyes off Kylee’s sweet mouth which was harder to do than holding water in a sieve since she kept moving the damn thing. She kept talking which just drew my attention back to the exact spot I was trying to avoid before I popped wood, again. It was almost getting embarrassing that my libido was acting like I was sixteen. That was saying something too since it was damn hard to embarrass me; I’ve always had a low threshold of give a fuck.

  I’d been caught in more unfavorable positions than I had fingers and toes to count, even if I borrowed some extra’s. Modesty had never been my strong suit but Kylee made me aware, brought me alive in ways I hadn’t known were lying low while she’d been gone. It was like somebody had recharged my batteries and I was on overload for needing to be used.

  “Maybe my favorite has changed James David.” Kylee’s words were forced past her tight lips and I didn’t miss the use of my full name. It was on purpose. She’d always been beyond aware how much I hated that damn name. She metered it out like it was a punishment and it pissed me the hell off.

  “If it has; change the fucking order. For fucks sake’ it’s a damn order. Not like I slammed my fist down on the button that sets off nuke’s at defcon whatever the hell the military picks to fire that shit at. It was a salad and fries.” My hand scrubbed over my head. I was on edge. Lack of fight, lack of fuck, lack of friend apparently by Kylee’s attitude; I was in a fatal dose of lack of F’s.

  “It’s not like I ordered you a shit sandwich.” I picked up my beer bottle and scowled. It hadn’t been refilled yet and I really needed another dose of alcohol. I glanced around to see if they had something stronger than beer and wine at the small bar towards the front of the restaurant and was sorely disappointed.

  Kylee sat back stiffly, her shoulders squaring up against the back of the booth like she was pulling herself together for a fight and let loose the bomb I knew was coming. I’d been waiting on it since we sat down. “Why did you stop talking to me?”

  If I’d had a mouthful of beer I’d have spewed that shit all over the table and probably Kylee too, even expecting it, it hit me hard. I slid an arm along the back of the booth instead and shrugged one shoulder, keeping my face relaxed like I hadn’t just wanted to choke on her direct question.

  “Why does it matter? You had a life to live. It’s not like you were living it here so why try to tie you here? I’m sure you made new friends Ky.”

  A familiar shade of pink that was quickly turning darker rose along Kylee’s neck; seeping up over her jaw to stain her cheeks and climbing higher to fill out the remainder of her pretty face as she glared at me. It was like watching storm clouds gather, her dark brown eyes turning almost black. Fuck defcon what the hell ever, someone needed to sound a siren. A full fledge Kylee tornado epic meltdown was about to happen and anybody in the path was gonna get caught up in the swirling vortex of her fury.

  I waited and was ready to offer up prayers and thanks to the god I defiantly chose not to believe in when the waitress appeared just then to drop off a fresh beer and Kylee’s salad. The color stayed on her face but it did halt the tirade about to be unleashed on me for a moment longer. Damn that waitress, she vacated the table like she was about to catch a fatal disease. By the look on Kylee’s face, the woman had good reason.

  Kylee’s mouth barely parted as she bit off her words, the waitress’s abandonment letting her tirade free. “You self righteous, self serving prick. You think you were doing me a favor by ignoring the hell out of me? By making me wonder what I’d done wrong or how I’d somehow hurt you to make you start treating me like you’ve treated every lay you ever had. We were different JD!” Kylee’s finger wagged angrily from her to me. “You lowered me to the level of the two bit tramps you slept with and cast away only I didn’t sleep with you! You were my best friend damn you!”

  I was pretty sure she was going to keep going but her voice softened, thank fuck because we were getting an eye fucking by every other diner with in screaming vicinity of Kylee’s voice. “I was your best friend ass hole. And it meant nothing. You just shucked me off like I was nothing.”

  With that said; Kylee picked up her fork and speared her salad like she wished it was me and damn it if I didn’t wish it was too. Kylee didn’t use curse words, she got her point across without needing those kind of adjectives. The fact she’d use any was a testament to the asshole I’d been. I’d really hurt her, way more than I’d realized.

  I knew back then it would probably bother her for a while but banked on her cutting out a new life. I figured she’d find someone else to fill my vacated spot to shower attention on. No matter the cost to me it was what I’d felt was best for her. She deserved way the hell better than I could offer her even as a friend. She didn’t need to spend her lift constantly worrying about me. The fact she’d almost changed her mind about college because of me was more than enough proof that I was a danger to her. At the time it had made perfect sense. So why now all of a sudden I felt like the lowest form of shit, the kind of shit that other shit looked down on caught me off guard.

  What was my motto....oh yeah… drink. I raised my beer to my mouth and poured a healthy amount down my throat barely tasting it. I just wanted to get it down, get another and find my happy place. The place a good buzz took you; that numb spot where you were too foggy to even try to make sense of the damage that was your life; where you were able to block out what you felt about other peopl
e. I was fucking golden at finding that place.

  I shocked the shit out of myself when words tumbled out my mouth as I lowered my beer. I for damn sure hadn’t conjured them up, they just fell out. Stupid fucking mouth.

  “My bad Ky. I was just…shit I was just trying to do the right thing for you. You deserve better than a self destructive prick for a best friend. You deserve the kind of person that gets you. The kind that can help you along in a better life, not drag you down to a level that someone like you should never see, never even know about.” I finally plugged the hole in my head that kept spewing out shit that I had promised long ago never to say to her. It was my load to carry and I was going to.

  Kylee had a savior complex, it had been her mission to save me for as long as we’d known each other and that was only going to cost her so I’d opted out of the program by shoving her away.

  Kylee didn’t know the half of what I’d been up too and she surely wouldn’t get why I was fighting, why I purposely put myself in a position to take a hit and give hits when I had done nothing but try to get away from that when I was a kid. No point in taking her down that path. Down to the type of people who dwelled in the lower level of Cellar Door, to the drugs that got passed around like candy, to the people that would bet everything they owned and chance a beating, risk everything at the thrill of making a quick run if they bet just right. Down to the dumbasses that made cash betting on themselves to lose. What the fuck kind of reject bet on themselves to fucking lose? There were fighters that were owned, that had bet and lost so much that they had “promoters” that got them fights, fights that could get them killed if they were paired up with the wrong opponent. Yeah, the more I thought on it, the more I remembered why I let Kylee go. It wasn’t her scene but it damn sure was mine and I wasn’t going to drag her into it even if there were some decent fighter that fought there too.

 

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