Caught in the Flames

by Kacey Shea

  He stands a few inches taller than his friends, all congregated near the bar. He laughs with his head tilted back at something one of his buddies says, and his deep boom draws attention. I release a whoosh of breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. He’s just here. With the guys. Like he said. I start to move toward him when I’m stopped dead in my tracks. A leggy blonde in a too tight dress stands out like a sore thumb. Shit.

  “Hey, that’s Pancake Bitch!” Jill whispers in my ear. I know exactly who she is. I just want to know what she’s doing here. And why she’s strutting her perfect figure toward Chase. I wait and watch. Alicia and Jill flank my sides and hold my arms as if they know I need their strength.

  Chase doesn’t notice her right away, he’s too busy talking and laughing with Pants. But when she steps in front of him, his lips pull wide into a smile that’s blinding. Or heart stopping. More like heart breaking. He pulls Tiff into his strong arms and lifts her right off the ground. He releases her with a kiss on the cheek and my chest burns. Her hand lingers and strokes his arm in the most intimate of ways. All I want to do is hide, run, and get the fuck away from this place.

  “Wait.” Alicia says, nodding at Tiff. We watch as Cam pulls her into a familiar embrace and swings her around in a circle. Tiff laughs and screams for him to put her down, and when he does he kisses her cheek the same way Chase did.

  “Let’s just go,” Jill says, her voice hard and angry.

  “No,” Alicia and I say at the same time. I need to find out who Tiff is to him. A past lover? A friend with benefits? Old friend? And why the hell is she always popping up where he is.

  “Go get ’em, tiger.” Alicia gives me a little push and that’s all I need to make my way through the crowd. I’m not angry, per se, just determined and fired up as I weave through the bodies. Tiff notices me first and she nods at Cam and grabs his glass of beer to walk my way. She’s coming at me again, that predatory gleam in her eye and I straighten my spine, chin up, and match her step for step.

  “Callie!” Chase shouts way too loudly before Tiff and I meet. The sound of his voice causes her to turn just slightly out of my path. I lift my gaze and I’m met with warm, melty chocolate. Chase’s eyes heat my skin with their stare and his lips pull into that all knowing smile. Tiff brushes by and mutters some insult I can’t understand, nor do I want to.

  “You came!” Chase shouts, this time staggering my way. I’ve seen Chase drunk, really drunk, but I’ve never seen him the way he is now, loose and almost humorous in his swagger. He pulls me into his arms and attempts a kiss, only he misses my mouth and gets my left eye instead.

  “Oops.” He chuckles and pulls back to meet my stare. He shakes my shoulders, “Callie, you came! You found me!”

  “Oh, look. All the dicks are here.” Jill sounds bored as she and Alicia step into our little conversation.

  Alicia narrows her gaze at Chase. “Who was that skank you just kissed?”

  Chase peers over each shoulder and then at Alicia. “Wha—?”

  “Yeah, you, fucker. Who was that woman?” This time Alicia jabs him in the chest with her finger.

  Chase only laughs. “You mean Tiff?” He scrunches up his nose and laughs again, louder this time. “You’re mean when you’re not drinking.” He pulls me into his side with a hand around my waist. “Your friend is being mean to me.” He says it so seriously but can’t keep his head from bobbing back a few times.

  “And you’re fuckin’ wasted.” Jill laughs and drags Alicia by the arm toward the bar. I don’t have to glance behind me to know Alicia’s probably still giving him the stink eye.

  “Baby, you came,” he murmurs in my ear and kisses me just under my earlobe. “What are you doing to me? I can’t get enough of you.”

  “You really are drunk, aren’t you?” I look up at him from under my lashes and he grins the laziest smile I’ve ever seen. His eyes sparkle in the dim light and then widen with a blink.

  “Shit. You’re beautiful tonight, Callie.” He steps back and stares again, blinks several times. “Your hair.” His lips pull wide and I can’t help but grin back. He’s sort of adorable like this. “It’s so different. You look amazing.”

  “Thanks, Chase.” The skin of my neck heats and tingles as I’m sure a blush works its way over my skin.

  “Now, you needa get drunk with me so I get less stupid.”

  “Less stupid?” I laugh and he tucks me back to his side before he leads us to the bar.

  “I’m dumb as shit right now so there’s only one problem to the solution.”

  “I think you mean solution to the problem.”

  “See. You’re too fuckin smart right now. Time to lower your IQ and inhibitions.” He nods to the bartender. “Keith! Another pale ale for me, and two shots of whatever this one wants!” He looks at me as I slide onto a vacated stool. “Fuck me,” he swears, shaking his head. I think he meant for it to be under his breath but the entire bar probably heard.

  No matter. By the end of the night, I’m sure I will be.

  I love Fireball.

  It tastes like Christmas time.

  When I was little, my aunt used to mail a box of Christmas cookies for me and my dad to enjoy. They were the home baked kind, something I never had unless I was visiting in the summer, except these had sugar frosting and were decorated, artistically horrible, by my cousins. Most of the cookies in the box were covered in red and green sprinkles, but there was always one, usually cut in the shape of a snowman, that was head to toe red cinnamon candies. My dad wouldn’t eat it and I wouldn’t let him throw it away. There was something about the burn of the candy mixed with the sugary sweet of the cookie that became my favorite. The Red Hots brought fire to my tongue and tears to my eyes, but once I persevered through those first chews, the sweet frosting and dough soothed the pain.

  Which is why, in some fucked up way, I love Fireball. The sneaky burning liquor that tastes a little too much like Christmases past and goes down too smooth to regulate. I’ve lost count of the shots we’ve done, but I do know my body feels warm, even with my attire of this lightweight sundress, and my straightened hair seems to make my head feel ten pounds heavier than it should as I attempt to stand up straight without using the bar top for support.

  At least we’re all having fun, the guys and my friends. Tiff has kept to the other side of the establishment, closer to the entrance at a table for two with one of her friends. Neither has come near our boisterous group and I’ve almost forgotten she’s here. Almost. Pants, Cam, Chase, Mustache, and Troy claimed an empty table about an hour ago and we’ve been laughing non-stop. So much my side hurts and my face is frozen into a permanent grin. Chase is different with his friends tonight. Carefree and entertaining throughout the constant banter between friends.

  With drinks running low, Alicia and I move to the bar to order more. Even though the alcohol here is cheap and they pour generously, the service sucks so it’s best to go straight to the bartender.

  “Umm, I’m gonna head out now.” Jill stifles an exaggerated fake yawn as she joins us. I refrain from rolling my eyes but Alicia doesn’t hold hers back as we appraise our very tipsy friend. “I’ve got an early wake up call. Need my rest. Eight hours. You know, that’s what they say. Healthy and rested, that’s what I’m about.” She’s trying way too hard.

  “You at least going to pretend you’re not getting in Cameron’s car for a ride home?” I raise my brows.

  “Oh, she’s gonna ride him,” Alicia mutters.

  “I’m not getting in his car. Get me a Bible, I’ll swear on it now!” she shouts.

  “We don’t need to mock the creator of the universe. We just want you to be honest,” I say, and Jill scrambles, digging in her bag to retrieve her keychain. She holds it up with a bright smile and look of utter achievement.

  “Okay, so he’s getting in your car?” Alicia says, and Jill’s cheeks stain with pink.

  “Busted. But you better not be driving,” I warn.

  “She’s
not. I am,” Cameron interrupts and plucks her keys from her grip with one hand. His other slaps her jean clad ass. He tries to snake an arm around her waist and pull her close but she dodges him with a bored expression.

  “Come on, let’s go before I regret this and change my mind.” Jill turns and strides away. Her blonde locks are pulled into a high ponytail and swing with each step. Her long legs move purposefully out of the bar and Cameron jogs to catch up. He leaves like a dog chasing his bone out the door. Poor puppy.

  “I almost feel sorry for him.” Alicia waves the bartender over. “Four shots of Fireball.”

  “Four?” My eyes widen with a little dose of fear. We’ve been drinking for hours.

  “Double the pleasure, double the fun! We’re having fun tonight. I want to have fun!” Alicia shakes her ass to the music pumping through the overhead speakers.

  “Fun, you say?” Chase’s voice is at my ear and his arms wrap possessively around my waist. His day old scruff scrapes the skin of my neck and sends shivers down my spine. “Hey, Callie. Having fun?”

  “She is now. Drink up, bitch!” Alicia slides two of the four shots in front of me.

  “Oh, fuck. We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” I’ve already had three. This will put me over the edge of slightly inebriated Callie to totally intoxicated with a killer hangover Callie . . . and bordering on the puking all night Callie. And no one wants that girl back.

  “Hell yeah, we are. We do everything together.” Alicia winks and places a shot in my hand.

  Oh, fuck. I click my tiny glass against hers and throw back the shot, pinch my eyes tight as the liquor goes down so smooth, and taste my beloved childhood candy treat. I don’t even hesitate on the second. Alicia is sure to give me shit if I try to back out. We tap glasses again, this time being silly and weaving our arms as if it were a wedding day toast of champagne.

  “Fuck, that’s hot.” Chase says from my side.

  “Damn straight.” Alicia giggles. “Nothing wrong with a little girl on girl action to put you in the mood.” Her brows dance.

  “Oh, I’m always in the mood,” Chase declares, a goofy grin on his face. “Right, baby?” He directs his grin my way. Damn, he’s hot, even wasted. I’ve never seen him this shitfaced, and that’s saying something after the party at his apartment.

  “It’s true.” I grin and kiss him on the lips. I only meant for it to be a quickie, but Chase’s lips are so plump and taste a little bit sweet. I move my tongue inside his mouth to determine what it is. Not beer, not chocolate, not—

  “That’s fucking hot.” Alicia’s raspy voice pulls me from my treasure hunt.

  I gaze up and Chase’s chocolate orbs glaze and flame with desire. He watches me while he nods toward Alicia. “Does that turn you on? ’Cause that sure as fuck turned me on.”

  The kiss? I’m confused but I think that’s what he meant. I smile and his grin pulls into that knowing smirk I love. His eyes leave mine to focus on my friend. He leans forward conspiratorially and Alicia and I follow his lead until all three of our bodies touch.

  His voice is sweet and low and all gravely when he talks again. “What do you say, Callie’s best friend? Wanna come home with us tonight? Watch us fuck? That’d be hot, wouldn’t it?”

  His words are like a bucket of ice cold water. What the hell did he just say? Apprehension and fear paralyze my lips and body.

  “Oh, fuck yeah. That’d be so hot.” Alicia giggles soft. “If Callie wants me to, I’m game.” Their chins turn my way and it pulls me from my stupor.

  “N—no! No way!” I stutter. My spine pulls straight as I break out of this little bubble of conversation. “Alicia!”

  “What? I think it’d be fun, but only if you want to.” She tries to give me a side hug but I shake her off. She rolls her eyes and walks away, leaving me with Chase.

  I glare but he doesn’t seem to notice as he orders another beer. “Want anything, baby?” He’s all casual and polite, like he didn’t just invite my best friend into our bed.

  “You know what? I would love something.”

  “Yeah?” He lifts his hand to bring the bartender back over but I pull it back down.

  “Yeah. I’d love a boyfriend who doesn’t invite other women into our sex life. Ya know, without consulting me first!”

  “Jesus, Callie. Calm down. I thought you were into it. It was just an idea.”

  The bartender sets a full glass of beer in front of us and the foam sloshes over the side and puddles on the wooden bar. Chase takes a long pull before meeting my gaze again.

  We stare. Just like that, for what feels like an eternity. I will him to say something, anything, to make this better—to apologize, to take back the last five minutes of what was turning out to be a fabulous night. Instead, he shrugs and goes back to his beer.

  “So, that’s it?” I fling my hands in the air.

  He glances at me from the side. “Look. What do you want me to say?”

  “Something! Anything!” My voice is loud, pitchy, but I can’t help it when I’m angry.

  “Damn it, Callie, you really know how to ruin a good time.” He slams his now empty glass down on the counter and walks away. He fucking walks away. And takes a piece of me with him, but I don’t turn to watch him leave or see where he goes. Fuck that, and fuck him.

  “Hey!” I shout to the bartender. “Two more.” I hold up the peace sign. He nods and pours from the amber bottle.

  “You okay?” He sets the shots in front of me.

  “I will be. Just keep ’em coming until then.”

  I hate Fireball.

  My boyfriend asked my bestie to watch us have sex . . . and she said yes! What the hell is wrong with tonight? It’s got to be the Fireball. The godforsaken liquor. That’s gotta be it. We drank too much of this crap.

  “You okay, Callie?”

  “Mmm?” I collect my thoughts and haul my head from where it rests comfortably. On the bar. On the disgusting, sticky, unclean bar. I almost gag before my shoulder jostles again.

  “Callie?” Troy’s concerned face comes into view. When I blink the room is unfocused and it takes me a few tries before everything balances in order. “Callie, you okay?”

  “Where’s Chase?”

  Troy’s lips lift in a grin and he points toward the restrooms. Oh. Chase must be sick. I can’t believe I fell asleep on the bar.

  My legs feel funny as I slide off the barstool and stagger in the direction Troy pointed. I pass the table we were at earlier, but it’s now filled with strangers. Where is everybody? Where’s Alicia? How long was I passed out? I rub at my eyes and turn into the hallway that leads to the restrooms, glancing in both directions to find the right door. My feet stutter to a stop and I wipe my eyes once more.

  It’s him. With her.

  Alicia’s tan legs are exposed all the way up to the edge of her lace panties—where she wraps them around Chase’s hips and he grinds against her center. With her back against the wall, her jet black hair almost fades into the dim lighting but for the strand of dyed green. The rest of her face is hidden as his lips battle with hers, but their moans reach my ears and I cry out. They lift their chins toward the sound.

  Alicia’s face blurs as tears fill my eyes. Chase nearly drops her to the ground and she straightens her skirt and leans against the wall.

  “Callie,” he says, and bile fills my mouth. I run. Push past them both and lock myself in the women’s restroom.

  “Callie. Callie, open the door.” Chase pounds and the door shakes against his weight. It’s too much. I grip the square metal trash bin and heave. All of the night’s transgressions empty from my stomach. More tears fill my eyes. My nostrils burn with stomach acid and I heave again.

  “Damn it, Callie! Open the door!” The handle jiggles but there’s a deadbolt. “Come out here and talk to me or I’ll find someone to open this fucking thing!” But it’s all a muted threat, as though he’s shouting underwater. I can’t focus on anything other than slowing my racing heart a
nd mind, and upset stomach.

  There’s a flush in one of the stalls and that’s when I realize I’m not alone. I wipe at my eyes, but the touch of my own skin on my face brings up more vomit. The banging at the restroom door fades and the steady tap of heels on the hardwood floor finally pulls my gaze out of the trash can and into the mirrors above the double sinks.

  “You really should learn to hold your liquor, honey. That’s so not attractive. Chase isn’t gonna want to date a girl with puke breath.” Tiff glares through the looking glass and washes her hands in the sink.

  “He’s not my boyfriend anymore so I don’t give a fuck what he thinks.” I spit the words at her. A deep breath aids my attempt to steady my breathing.

  “’Bout time he took out the trash.” She looks down her nose at me and tosses her used paper towel inches from my face and into the can.

  “What the hell is your problem? Why do you hate me? What did I ever do to you?” I straighten and use the trash can for balance.

  “You were never good enough for Chase.”

  Me? I wasn’t good enough? He was practically fucking my best friend in the bar tonight. I wet a paper towel to clean my face. God knows what else he did. The image of his car parked in Tiff’s driveway flashes in my mind and I just know. He’s been cheating on me this entire time.

  “You don’t even know me,” I grind out through clenched teeth.

  “Well, you associate yourself with homewrecking old whores. And misery loves company, so . . .” She smirks. I spin and step so I’m toe to toe with her. She lifts her brow, as though I amuse her and it pisses me off even more.

  “You’re the one with whoring tendencies. Kiki’s been nothing but a loyal and caring friend. The perfect neighbor. Unlike you.”

  Her smile fades and eyebrows lower. Her eyes go hard, as deep and blue as an approaching storm. “Really? You need to get your facts straight, little girl. Ask her. Ask her how she met her late husband. Ask her if she stole a married man for herself. I assure you she’s nothing but a lowlife bitch.” Tiff’s words are venomous as they sting from her lips.