Tiff’s face lights up. “Are you sure?” But she’s already shooing Stella toward the door, so I know she’s already agreeing with me.
Once they’re gone, I put on some music and get to cleaning. If I’m gonna be gone tomorrow night, I want this place to be spic-and-span for Stella to start fresh. Tables, check. Dishes, check. Bar stocked, check.
I’m pushing the broom around the floor when I hear a voice over the music. “Islands in the stream. That is what we are.” I giggle, turning to watch Devin’s back-and-forth as he sings both Dolly’s part and Kenny Rogers’s part of the famous song. Getting his laugh, he dissolves into giggles too. “Girl, your musical taste leaves something to be desired. I’m gonna have to school you a bit on more recent musical genius . . . like EDM.”
“No thanks, man. That stuff gives me a headache. Boom-boom-boom. And there are no words! Just the same beat on repeat.” I mimic a loop with my hand.
“How dare you?” he asks, mockingly insulted. “Whatever, bish. I’m outtie . . . if you’re good by yourself?”
I wave him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Scott will be here soon. I’m just finishing up while I wait for him.”
Devin heads out, and I hear him lock the back door behind him so I get back to the floors. I push the broom around some more, swaying and dancing and singing along as I sweep.
I’m lost in the music and the work until I suddenly sense a presence behind me. I jump, turning to see a red-eyed Carl hovering right behind me. “Jesus Christ, Carl! You scared the shit outta me!”
Carl’s eyes get squinty, like he’s seeing more than one of me and trying to focus on the middle one, hoping it’s the real one. “You’re a real bitch these days, you know that?” he sneers, pointing a thick finger at me.
Great, Carl is a mean drunk tonight. He’s usually chill, maybe a bit depressing, but it must be the Devil’s Night curse. I move away, putting some space between me and the stench of alcohol wafting from his pores. “I’ve always been a bitch, Carl. You just now noticed?”
He stumbles toward me, and out of reflex, I catch him, keeping him from plowing into the floor. “No. You didn’t used to be a bitch. You were quiet, mousy. But now that you got some rich dick, you think you’re better’n us.”
I had been holding Carl up, supporting his much heavier weight with my own, but as he ramps up, the dynamic changes. He presses me against the wall by booth fifteen, his rank breath coating my face like mist. “Carl, you’re drunk and need to go lie down. Now.” I’m scared but keep my voice steely. This is Carl. He’s my friend. Hell, he’s almost family. And I have a moment of hope that he’s going to listen to my bartender boss voice that brooks no argument.
He leans in, nuzzling into my neck, and I think he sniffs me before leaning back to look in my eyes. “I was gonna ask you out when you were ready, but you kept telling everyone you weren’t dating so I waited. Res-resch-respecting what you wanted. But that asshole just comes in here, slamming cash and flashing dick, and you let him lead you out like a fucking puppy. Fuck that and fuck you, Maddie.”
His quiet, lost little boy voice gets louder and louder, turning up my fear level with every decibel. I push against his chest, hoping he’ll lose his footing, stumble, and let me get out of the cage he’s created for me with his bigger frame. But he’s drunk-strong, feeling no pain.
“Yeah, fuck you, Maddie.” And with that declaration, Carl dives for my neck again.
I cry out, truly terrified now and pressing against him with everything I have, no longer holding back. “No, Carl. No. Leave me alone!”
There’s a loud bang on the front door and Carl yells over his shoulder, “We’re closed. Come back later.” But whoever’s knocking doesn’t listen, thank goodness. With one more crashing sound, the door bursts open and Scott stands there. My knight in a custom-made suit. And this time, I’m so fucking glad to see him.
“What the fuck?” Scott yells, but he’s already running across the room, charging at Carl. He lands a punch to Carl’s gut as Carl swings wildly.
“You have fucking everything . . . why her?” Carl roars. Scott answers, but it’s not with words. Instead, he lands one more wallop of a punch to Carl’s jaw, knocking him out clean on the floor.
Scott turns to me instantly. “Are you okay? Oh, my God, Maddie. Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head, burying my face in his dress shirt. I’ve never been a damsel in distress before, and in fact, have argued that fact with the man holding me right now. But in this moment, I want to be the rescued princess because I’m done, stretched to my limit with shock and horror at what just almost happened. ”I’m okay. Just please. I need to get out of here. Get me out of here.”
Scott nods crisply. “Of course. Hang on.” He walks over to Carl, and for a second, I think he’s gonna punch him again, but instead, he rolls his unconscious body to his side, tilting his head so he won’t choke if he pukes. College Drinking 101 in action, I think oddly. But when Scott wraps me back in his arms, puts me in his car, and drives me home, all of my thoughts blank. At some point, I think he gives me a bath because I feel warm water and smell lavender. But all I remember are cool sheets and Scott’s warm body as the darkness takes me and I dream.
Chapter 24
Scott – An Hour Before
I sit in my armchair, staring out over Bane, replaying today’s meeting over and over . . . my dad’s words, the look on his face, and then my semi-makeup with my brother and sister. We’re not magically all golden and perfect siblings now, but our apologies are a start toward something better. And it’s because of her. My Madison.
I watch a car drive by on the road below me, heading somewhere, and I wonder if it’s too early to head to Stella’s. She’d told me it’d be a busy night and she didn’t need to be distracted by my sexiness taking up a paying spot at her bar, so I’d promised to work late and pick her up at closing time.
Eventually, I finish the single scotch I’ve been sipping on for the last half-hour and decide that I can always help Maddie clean up so we can get out sooner. Cleaning up the bar with her last time worked out pretty well . . . other than the tattoo freak-out. But since we’re well past that, I’m sure she’d love the help. And I’d love to get her home and on my cock as soon as possible.
The drive over is smooth and seamless, but all that goes to shit in an instant when I arrive. The parking lot is empty and I realize they’ve left Maddie here to close alone again. We’ve talked about how unsafe that is even though the neighborhood isn’t that bad, but Maddie just shrugged and told me that it was what it was. As if that made it okay.
I park and knock on the door, but there’s no answer. I realize I can hear Dolly playing inside and a smile creeps across my face. That’s my girl. I knock again, louder this time, and I hear a guy’s voice, sounding loud and drunk. What the fuck? Who’s here with Maddie?
I scoot over and peek through the blinds to the left of the door, and that’s when I see them . . . Carl and Maddie. She’s scrambling, trying to push him away from her, and he’s pressing in tighter, pushing her against a booth wall. Motherfucker! I rear back and kick the door, likely busting the constantly malfunctioning lock, and burst into the bar.
It’s a sea of red haze as I punch Carl repeatedly, although I distantly feel a few stings myself so he must’ve landed some too. At some point, I realize Maddie is shaking in my arms as I hold her tight, checking her over for any injuries. If I find a single scratch on her satin skin, I’m going to kill Carl. I know it in my bones. Luckily, she seems unharmed, just terrified. When she begs me to take her home, I can’t help but give in even though every animal part in me wants to rip Carl limb from limb. Knowing if I do that, I can’t take care of Maddie, I do the hardest thing I’ve ever done and leave him there on the floor to take Maddie home. She doesn’t speak as I give her a bath, washing his stench and the residue of his touch from her skin and replacing it with mine. When I carry her to my bed, tucking her safely into the silk sheets we fucked on just ye
sterday, it finally settles the gnawing hole in my gut.
I watch her for a few minutes, or maybe it’s hours. I don’t know, but eventually, I realize there’s something I need to do. Quietly, I tiptoe from the room and go back to the pile of Maddie’s clothes in the bathroom. I dig around in her apron for her cellphone, punching in the code and knowing this conversation is not going to go well.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Maddie, honey? Are you okay?” Stella’s voice is sleepy, and I almost feel bad for waking her, but then I remember the look on Maddie’s face.
“Stella, it’s Scott. Maddie’s okay. Well, sort of. Look, something bad happened tonight at the bar.”
“Oh, my God, what happened?” Stella sounds awake now, for damn sure.
“I went to pick Maddie up and Carl . . . he was coming on to her.” I try to say it gently, knowing this is going to be hard to hear.
Stella groans. “Ugh, that boy. He was drunk as a skunk when I left, supposed to sleep it off in the office. I’ll talk—”
“Stella,” I interrupt, my tone hard enough that she quiets. “Stella, he had Maddie pushed up against the wall and was kissing her neck, and she was fighting him, screaming ‘no’, and begging him to stop. It was . . . bad.” I pause when I hear her hushed ‘no’, but she resumes her quiet so I continue, figuring it’s best to get the whole thing out at once.
“I had to break the door in, charge him to get him off her. We fought.”
“Is he alive?” she asks, and honestly, I think she probably would’ve killed him herself if she’d been the one to walk in on that scene. It almost makes me wish she had.
“He was when I left. Unconscious, still drunk. Left him on his side so he wouldn’t choke and set the door back as right as I could.”
“Scott, if you hadn’t . . .” Stella stutters and then dissolves into tears I can hear as she gulps and sniffs through the phone. “He’s a good boy . . . lazy, sure, but this? I never would’ve thought he would do something like that. It’s the alcohol. Not an excuse, of course, but he’s not right. Been trying to talk to him, but he’s not having it, won’t take any advice from me.”
I sigh. “Honestly, Stella, I don’t give a single fuck about whatever problems Carl has or what you plan to do with his drunk ass. Madison is my only concern. And you put her at risk, leaving her there alone night after night, and this time, something happened. You left her there alone with an asshole too drunk to hear her ‘no’, and she’s the one who paid the price. She hasn’t even spoken since we left the bar, not through the ride home or a long bath or when I put her to bed. She’s in shock.” The blame I’m layering on her makes her tears ramp up, but I don’t stop. “She loves you like a mother and would do anything for you, but this isn’t right. She can’t do this anymore. I won’t allow it.”
“What are you saying?” Stella asks, her voice wavering.
“Effective immediately, Madison’s done working at your bar. Find someone else to run it.”
“What?” Stella shrieks, but her voice is weak. “You can’t just quit for her!”
“I just did. I’m going to take care of her now, like you should have and did for a while, and I appreciate that, but it’s not working now. Don’t call, don’t text. All of you just leave her alone and let her heal, however long that takes. I don’t know if she’s going to wake up in the morning angry, sad, scared, or what . . . but I’ll handle it. Just leave her alone for a while.”
I don’t wait for Stella to answer, knowing she’d never agree to that. As much as Maddie loves Stella, Stella loves Maddie back. She is partially at fault, but Maddie would forgive her readily because that’s who she is. But I can’t stand the thought of her going back to that place, being at risk that way. Not when she can stay here with me, safe and sweet and happy and . . . mine. I hang up the phone and press the button to turn it off. Once I’m sure it’s a brick, I toss it in a drawer in the kitchen and head back to the bedroom.
I strip down carefully so as not to wake or spook her and slide into bed behind Madison. She snuffles in her sleep and turns over, curling into my side like a kitten. I run a soft finger along her skin, soothing her back to sleep and reassuring myself that she’s okay. I hover on the edge of sleep all night, dozing but aware of her every breath, every movement.
The next morning dawns clear and bright, at odds with the darkness clouding my mind. Maddie squirms against me before opening her eyes. “Mmm . . . good morning.”
I’m already looking at her, have been for the last thirty minutes as she wiggled in her sleep and I tried to decipher if she was having a nightmare or just dreaming. So I see the moment she remembers what happened the night before. I see the light in her eyes dim and her shoulders scrunch up to her ears as she burrows deeper under the covers.
“Good morning. How you doing?” I ask gently, wanting to let her set the tone here.
Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m okay, I think. I was freaked out last night for sure, but I’m okay. He was really drunk, and I’m sure he feels bad about the whole thing this morning.”
It doesn’t escape my attention that she doesn’t say his name, just like she told me she avoided her ex’s name for the longest time after that trauma. It’s a sign she’s not as okay as she’s making out to be. I knew she’d try to downplay the whole thing. My sweet, forgiving girl, but she shouldn’t have to forgive this.
So I take charge, leaving out a few key details. “I already called Stella and told her what happened.”
Madison’s jaw drops as her eyes widen. “What?”
“I wanted to make sure somebody checked on Carl first thing this morning because the bar door is busted. Stella said she’d handle Carl and that you were already scheduled for three days off, so take those plus however many more you want. All the time you need. I told her you’d call her later in the week to let you have time to process.” She nods, so I tell her the last bit. “I turned your phone off. Stella will let everyone know what happened and that you’re okay. It can just be us, and I can take care of you.”
I hate lying to her, despise it to my core. But she needs time to heal and to see that this can be her life, here with me. No drunk assholes leering at her, no coworkers getting aggressively handsy, no late nights that wear her out to the point of exhaustion and put her at dangerous risk of God knows what. No, she can’t go back there. I just need to show her how good it can be and she’ll understand. She’s got to.
Madison curls back into my side, her fingers tracing along my tattoo under her cheek. And God help me, I’m at peace with lying because I’ll do anything to keep her by my side and protect her. Even if it’s from herself.
Chapter 25
Madison
Daily Horoscope, November 2nd
Libra - Still waters run deep . . . but a gentle disturbance to the surface can change the underlying sand foundation.
“Dude, give me that!” I say, reaching for the last nacho in the paper tray. But Scott doesn’t give me the tray. Instead, he grabs the last remaining bastion of cheesy-beefy goodness, but he doesn’t crunch into it for himself. No, he holds it up for me to eat it . . . from his fingers. I smile and grab his hand, holding it in place as I nibble the nacho and then lick the cheese from his fingers. His eyes zero on the display I’m putting on for him, watching as my tongue curls around his thumb and I suck it in to get every last bit of cheesy goodness and rile Scott up at the same time. Winning, indeed.
The last few days have been amazing. Surprisingly so, considering what happened at work a few nights ago. I still can’t believe Carl was that drunk or that Scott had to rescue me . . . again. But he did and took it remarkably well. The next morning, I’d still been a bit of a mess and had completely forgotten my surprise birthday breakfast plans for him. But by late afternoon, we’d snuggled and talked about everything and nothing as I felt more like myself.
Granted, Scott hadn’t been happy that I was willing to let bygones be bygones with Carl, semi-justifying his actions with t
he excuse of alcohol, but I know a sober Carl would be horrified that he’d scared me.
I’d felt like the bigger story was Scott making some inroads with his siblings. When he’d said that it was all because of me, I’d beamed even as I’d assured him that it was all his doing.
And just like that, the tone for my weekend off had been set. We’ve laughed and played, explored and experimented, and generally taken our mantra of ‘new experiences’ to heart.
Art museum exhibit about surrealism? Check, although neither of us knew what surrealism even was.
Picnic in the park while a band played folksy covers of rock hits? Check.
An amusement park with an inflatable obstacle course where Scott had beat my best time by four minutes? Check.
A romantic sunset sail around the lake’s bay on a sailboat I’d thought was huge but the captain had assured me was a small personal watercraft? Check.
Restaurants? From fine dining to food trucks to a greasy spoon diner. Check, check, and check. Although the food truck Asian-fusion burrito was by far my favorite.
Shopping? Oh, yeah, that too. We’d left Stella’s in such a hurry that I hadn’t grabbed my overnight bag, and Scott had been adamant that we weren’t going back there, nor was I going home because this weekend was ours and ours alone. So he’d bought me a few T-shirts and two pairs of jeans, at American Eagle, not the Armani place he’d wanted to take me to. He’d laughed when I told him that if I had on Armani jeans, I’d never be able to sit down for fear of getting them dirty. Then I’d laughed when he’d hopped up and stuck his ass in my face, letting me read the label on his own designer jeans . . . that he’d literally been sitting in the grass with.
So yeah, the last three days have been jam-packed with awesomeness. Through it all, Scott’s been totally focused on me, and I’ve given him all of my attention. We left our phones at home, just enjoying life and taking it as it comes.
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