Kinged

by B. B. Hamel

  “So, how are things going? Feel settled yet?” Amy asked me.

  I wasn’t sure how to answer. It hadn’t been very long, and I still wasn’t used to the city, but I loved my job. Adstringo was a fantastic place to work, even better than most places in New York. And most importantly of all, our offices were only a few blocks from my apartment, which made my commute super easy.

  “I think so. I’m getting used to the city at least,” I said.

  She nodded. “It took me a while to adjust. You’ll get there.”

  “It’s great here, though. People are pretty welcoming.”

  “I’m glad, seriously. I’m sorry again I haven’t been as available as I should be.”

  I laughed. “Stop apologizing you weirdo. It’s all good. Let’s go over this data before we start talking about your rock again.” I glanced at her enormous ring and felt a pang of jealousy. It probably cost more than everything I owned combined.

  “Fine, just try not to stare at this gaudy thing too much.” Amy waved her hand in the air, and then started to run through the slides.

  Working with Amy was easy. We’d been good friends since we met in college during our freshman year. We were placed in the same dorm room, and hit it off immediately. She was quiet and serious, and I had to work hard at first to break her out of her shell. We lived together ever since, and the only time we ever spent apart was right after college, when she moved back to Philly. During her year away from me, she managed to completely write and market a smartphone app that connected underprivileged kids with inexpensive tutors, she landed her dream job at Adstringo after they bought her app, and she fell in love with Adstringo’s reclusive CEO billionaire Shane Green.

  My job was no different from what I used to do in New York. The only difference was, I got to spend my afternoons with my oldest best friend, and I made a lot more money. Philadelphia was a decent city, and I was slowly making friends in the company. Everyone was kind and the atmosphere in the office was always lighthearted and casual, which was the opposite of some of the big, stuffy ad agencies I had worked at.

  But there was something missing in my life, some gap I had trouble filling. My mind wandered as Amy talked, and I daydreamed about Rex. I pictured his muscles and his tattoos, and remembered the way he didn’t hesitate to beat those guys down for knocking me over. I knew I should have been more modern and find physical violence appalling or something, but I had to admit it was really exciting. He protected my honor or whatever, which was more than any other guy had ever done for me. He was mysterious and dangerous, and I couldn’t stop thinking about running my fingers over his ripped chest.

  I wasn’t usually the type to fantasize about a stranger, but that guy was stuck in my head. I kept thinking about the place he said he worked, and wondered if I could find it. As Amy wound down, we found ourselves chatting idly again.

  “I got a question, kiddo,” I said.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Do you know a bar called Drake’s? It’s in South Philly apparently.”

  Amy scrunched up her face, then shook her head. “Nope, doesn’t sound familiar. I don’t get into South Philly that often though.”

  I felt disappointed. “Alright, I heard it was cool. I might check it out.”

  Amy brightened. “Great! You should. Want me to come with you?”

  “No, that’s okay. I know how busy you are.”

  “Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

  I shook my head. “Really, it’s fine. I should learn the city on my own, anyway.”

  Amy shrugged and started gathering her things. “Alright then, Darcy, you got it. Let me know if you change your mind.” We walked out of the conference room together, and then went our separate ways.

  My desk was in the far corner of the open office, directly in front of a row of single-occupant quiet rooms. It was a great spot as far as I was concerned: just enough privacy that I didn’t feel crowded, but not completely secluded. My neighbor was named Marissa, the same girl I had gone out with on Saturday night. She was a sweet girl, but she spoke too fast and was about as interesting as an enema. Actually, an enema would have been more interesting, and sometimes I wished I were getting one instead of listening to her blather on.

  “And like, that’s how we got our first beach house,” Marissa said, winding down some incredibly boring story about how her family picked out a beach house when she was a kid. They were rich New Jersey people, and both her parents were doctors. I assumed the New Jersey thing explained how gauche and clumsy she was, but I also knew that was just my typical anti-Jersey, New York attitude speaking.

  I could relate to having a wealthy family, but only partially. I grew up in a really similar situation to Marissa. My parents were extremely well off when I was in grade school, but when I hit high school, something happened, and they lost all their money. It devastated my family, and we were never the same after that. I moved in with my grandparents for the end of high school, and hadn’t spoken to my father in years.

  Marissa’s family was still blissfully married and still outrageously rich. She had it easy, and was completely tone deaf to anyone else’s situation in life. Part of me hated her because of that.

  “Great, Marissa,” I said, barely pretending to be listening.

  “I know right!” she said. Her words tended to blur into single-sentence streams of sound. I had to really pay attention to understand her, which meant that I barely ever understood her.

  The day dragged on like that. Marissa alternated between long bouts of silent concentration and monotonous stories about nothing. I did my best to remain calm, but sometimes I wanted to yell at her to shut up. It was frustrating, but I kept telling myself that she wasn’t a bad person, just an annoying one. I was trapped at my desk next to the most boring person in the world, and all I wanted was to daydream about Big Stranger Rex. I knew I was on edge in general, and it wasn’t Marissa’s fault. I was floundering lately, trying to find my footing in a new, unfamiliar place. I felt purposeless and adrift.

  As the end of the day drew nearer, a plan started to form. I did a quick search on my laptop and found a website for the bar Drake’s. It was somewhere south of South Street. I assumed it was the right place, since it was the only Drake’s in South Philly, at least according to the internet. I typed the address into my phone, and leaned back in my chair.

  Something was missing in my life. I had been spending too much time listening to Marissa’s uninteresting stories, and I felt restless. I was bored, bored out of my mind, and I needed a little excitement to balance out my frustratingly mindless days. Amy was great, but Amy wasn’t available. That Rex guy was stuck in my head, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his ripped muscles as I ran into him that night. I hadn’t been with a guy since I had moved to Philly, and I found myself imagining his sweating body pressed against mine. I knew I probably wouldn’t do anything, but I resolved to go down to Drake’s that night, and to see if I could find him. I didn’t normally go to bars alone, let alone strange bars in strange cities, but I was at that point. Maybe it was a new low, or maybe it was a new, exciting chapter in my life. Either way, at least I’d get some drinks out of it.

  It was a Wednesday night. He probably wouldn’t even be working. Actually, he never said what he did there. I suddenly felt nervous, and realized how crazy my plan was. I wanted to go to the workplace of some guy who ran away from me in the streets in the hopes of stalking him down. It was nuts, absolutely insane. But as Marissa launched into another story about how she found a fantastic top on sale, I resolved to go through with it anyway. I needed something. And maybe Rex could be that something, at least for the night.

  Chapter Three

  I got home as fast as I could after work, intent on my plan. I ran up my stoop, unlocked my front door, and threw myself into my tiny studio apartment. My bedroom was my living room, which was also my kitchen, and the only separate space I had was my bathroom and shower. Still, it was in a fan
tastic neighborhood, and so close to work. I kept the place clear of clutter and very neat, mostly because I had no extra room for garbage. I dropped my keys in a small bowl and made my way into my living room slash bedroom space to get changed.

  After debating on my outfit for way too long, I finally settled on a black slinky top that showed off my body and high waisted black shorts. I didn’t want to dress up too much, because I had no clue what that place was going to be like, but my guess was not super classy. I put on dark eyeliner and dark eye shadow and pretended like the makeup was a kind of shield, protecting the real me from whoever had taken over my body. I took a shot for confidence, and ran back out into the street.

  I flagged a cab, rode it down toward the address I had, and walked the last few blocks. It was a comfortable summer night, but I felt like I was sweating already. My heart was hammering in my chest as I made my way down the dark sidewalk. When I got closer to the block, I kept wondering what I was getting myself into. I had no idea what the neighborhood was like, let alone how friendly the bar would be. The area looked fine, as far as I could tell, and the streets were pretty clean. I felt like someone had taken control of my legs though, and I was only along for the ride. Just to be safe, I pulled my phone out and typed a text to Amy.

  Hey girl, I’m at that bar Drake’s tonight. I hit send, and hoped she wouldn’t take it as an invitation to join me. I needed to force myself to do something outside my comfort zone; otherwise, I’d sink deeper into the rut, and fester. But I realized nobody knew where I was, and thought at least someone should have an idea in case I disappeared. Sane people would take that as a sign to turn around and go home, but I was so beyond sanity that I was ignoring my own instincts.

  I turned the corner and saw it. Halfway down the block was a green sign with the word “Drake’s” in script. It looked exactly like what I expected. The front door was dirty and peeling, the windows were fogged over from years of smoke and trash, and the sign was yellowing from age. Sketchy dudes hung around outside the front door smoking cigarettes. It was the definition of a dive.

  I felt a deep pang of fear hit me hard. I really didn’t know what I was doing. It was probably a safe neighborhood, but who knew what kind of people were inside that bar. If I had to judge based on the guys hanging around outside, it was probably full of thieves and bikers, or worse. My pulse quickening, I forced myself to keep walking toward the door. As I got closer, the guys looked up.

  “Hey there, blondie,” one guy called out. I ignored him and kept walking closer. He was chubby, and wore a tattered short leather jacket and a black T-shirt underneath. His jeans were loose and chains hung around his hips. His arms were covered in tattoos, and one half of his head was shaved, the other half slicked back with oil. I found him completely repulsive, but I just had to get passed him, and then I was golden.

  “Blondie, got a name?” he said again as I got closer. His friends laughed and grinned. I gave him a ‘fuck off’ look, and he chuckled softly.

  “No name, that’s cool.” I grabbed the handle of the door. It was grimy and slick. “Coming inside, blondie? This your usual crowd?”

  I looked at him again and felt myself speaking before I had a chance to reconsider what I was about to say.

  “You’re definitely not my usual crowd, I know that much.” I couldn’t believe I had said that. Was I trying to provoke the creepy guy? I felt myself tense up in anticipation of his response.

  The three guys were silent for a few seconds. I could feel the tension build, and I braced myself for what was coming next. Suddenly, they all busted out laughing. The two other guys hooted and slapped the chubby one on the back as I slipped passed them and into the bar. Crisis averted, for the time being at least.

  Inside, the space was dark, and a thin cloud of smoke hung over everything. There was a long bar on the right side of the room, with a few scattered tables and booths, plus pool tables and a dartboard toward the back. The walls were covered in beer ads and pictures of motorcycles.

  Not sure what to do, I made my way over to the bar and found a seat at the end closest to the door. I sat down and looked at the crowd. It was surprisingly full for a Wednesday night. There was a mix of young and old, and most of the guys looked like the same type as the dudes smoking out front. There were a lot of leather jackets, black shirts, facial hair, and tattoos. I felt like I stood out, but nobody was looking my way. Eventually, the bartender, a gruff old guy with a beer gut, asked me what I wanted, and I said a whiskey and coke. When he brought my drink, I sipped it slowly. The warmth spread out into my stomach and gave me a jolt of confidence.

  I had no clue what to do next. On my first look around the room, I couldn’t find Rex, although there were plenty of uglier versions of him playing pool and drinking. The place felt like a cliché working-class Irish dive, and I guessed that’s probably what it really was. Nobody bothered me, and I didn’t bother anyone else.

  I looked at my phone and sipped my drink as the minutes dragged by. For what felt like a really crazy and dangerous plan was actually turning out to be really boring. I didn’t see Rex anywhere, and nobody was bothering me, which meant plenty of time to look at Facebook and pout.

  The door opened and closed again, and I looked up. In walked the three guys from earlier, grinning like idiots. The chubby one caught my eye and smiled, and I quickly looked away. I inwardly kicked myself for making eye contact as he sidled on over to me. I could smell his sweat and stinky breath as he leaned in to talk over the low music coming from the jukebox.

  “Need a drink, blondie?” His teeth were revolting.

  “No thanks, I’m good.” I would love it if you went away, though, I thought.

  He smiled and sat down next to me, still leaning in too close. “What’s your name?”

  None of your fucking business, I wanted to say. “Darcy.”

  “Darcy. I’m Tadd.” He caught the eye of the bartender and ordered a beer.

  “I’m meeting someone here, Tadd.” I hoped that lie would make him rethink his current plan of attack, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Meeting your girlfriends here? Getting a little drunk for a Wednesday?”

  “No, I’m meeting my boyfriend, so could you leave me alone?”

  Tadd stared at me for a few seconds, but didn’t start laughing. This time, he leaned closer, and there was a menacing look in his eye.

  “You shouldn’t be rude, Darcy,” he said. I felt the fear spike in my stomach again.

  “You shouldn’t get so close to me,” I said, ready to get up and run. He leaned in even closer, his face inches away from mine. I heard the door open then shut, and could feel a few people staring at us. My entire body was pulsing with adrenaline and fear.

  “What’s your problem, stuck up bitch?” he said, spit flying from his lips.

  Before I could answer, another person loomed huge in our peripheral.

  “Who the fuck—” Tadd started, and then caught himself. I looked up, and Rex was smiling down at me.

  “Hey, Rex, what’s up man,” Tadd said, and laughed nervously. Rex looked at him with an easy smile.

  “Are you bothering this lady, Tadd?” He was wearing another black T-shirt and cutoff jeans, and I had the feeling he hadn’t changed. His body was still ripped and bristling, but he had a new red mark on his eyebrow, like he’d been punched. I ran my eyes over his ripped chest and abs, and lingered over his tattoos. He was like a beacon in that grimy place, dangerous and wild but not dirty or grungy like the others.

  “No, man, we’re just talking,” Tadd said, backing off and putting his hands up. Rex looked at me.

  “Are you guys just talking?” he asked.

  I shook my head no, but was too afraid to speak.

  Rex looked back at Tadd. “Fuck off now, Tadd. Talk to this girl again, and I will hurt you. Understand?”

  “Yeah, man, sorry, I’ll get outta here,” Tadd said. He stood and walked away fast, rejoining his two friends at a table across the room. I could
see them talking together and throwing scared looks in our direction.

  I turned back as Rex sat down on the empty stool.

  “Thanks for saving me,” I said, half joking.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. Not one for small talk then, I guessed. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look very happy to see me, either.

  “Just having a drink,” I said, feeling lame.

  “Why this bar?”

  I didn’t know how to respond, so I shrugged. He let out a deep sigh, caught the bartender’s eye, and ordered a beer.

  “This place isn’t for people like you,” he said quietly. I arched my eyebrow and wondered what that was supposed to mean.

  “You don’t know me.”

  “No, I don’t know you. But I know your type. Pretty, blonde, rich. If you’re out slumming it for a night, I suggest finding somewhere a little safer. I won’t be around to chase off men like Tadd forever.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. On the one hand, he was insulting me, though in a strange, backhanded way. Maybe I did grow up rich, and maybe I was blonde, but I wasn’t a spoiled little brat like Marissa. I wasn’t out to slum it, either. I was there for him, and him alone, but I couldn’t say that. Although, he did seem genuinely worried about my safety, which was a good sign. Maybe a little old fashioned, but at least he seemed to be a decent guy to women.

  “You don’t need to protect me, I can handle myself.”

  He laughed. “You were doing a great job with Tadd there.”

  I made an angry face. “I would have been fine if you hadn’t barged in.”

  The humor left his face and he looked at me soberly. “Look, guys like Tadd are dangerous. Leave it alone.”

  We were silent for a second. “I’m not spoiled,” I said.

  He grinned at me. “I didn’t say you were. I said rich, not spoiled.”

  “It’s what you meant though,” I said, getting angry.

  He laughed. “Got a little temper on you?”