Chapter 3
I pulled into the parking lot and found the last spot. Alright, this night might actually be good! I entered the bar to see that it was packed and spotted Emma saving me a seat at the bar. Machinehead by Bush was on the jukebox. It was loud, it was smoky, and it was a little slice of heaven. I plopped down on the stool and smiled at Lou, the 70-year-old bartender. He waved and began to pour two shots of Jameson and two chasers of cola. With the speed of a much younger man, he slid them to us and gave us a toothy grin. Emma and I clinked shot glasses and drank up. She already had her two shots waiting, so we immediately threw back the second one. Ah, sweet, sweet Jameson to the rescue. I felt my shoulders start to relax, my lips felt a little tingly, and I couldn’t contain the sigh of relief that escaped my lips.
There was a lull in between songs and Emma leaned closer to me. “That bad, huh?”
I just nodded as if to say “the usual”. She knew all about the usual and she’d been telling me for over a year to leave his ass in the dust. Even her husband agreed with her, having recently pointed out to me that my husband had a complete lack of respect for me. I usually defended Ryan, always the faithful wife. But tonight, after that lovely display at home, I was in complete agreement. If I never heard the name “Katie” again, it would be too soon. I briefly wondered if any man would find me sexy. Maybe I was too curvy for all of them. I was suddenly very lonely and could feel the darkness that had swallowed me all those years ago begin to seep back in.
Speaking of the darkness swallowing me, someone must have been on a Bush kick, as Swallowed came on next. Emma and I squealed (yes, we still held onto our Gavin Rossdale crushes) and jumped up from our barstools. We headed out to the tiny little dance floor and began head banging like we were groupies for an 80’s band. I let go of my exam worries, my marriage stresses, and just jumped up and down to the magic of Gavin’s fingers on that guitar. I smiled and closed my eyes and just let go. I bumped into people, people bumped into me, but it didn’t matter. I reveled in the closeness of other 90’s alternative lovers. I danced until I felt the tension begin to seep away, although I’m sure the Jameson was helping too.
As the song ended I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. I might be plus-sized, but I could dance with the best of them. I smiled at Emma and she motioned to the bar. We headed back over, our seats now taken, and crammed ourselves into the drink line. Lou came out from behind the bar with two more shots and two more colas. Needless to say, we tipped him fat every time we came here. He knew our life stories from our visits on slow nights after class, and he completely understood that we were good girls in need of some R&R. We thanked him profusely and knocked back our third Jameson. By this point I was truly relaxed and in the mood for fun. All of a sudden I heard the familiar opening strands of Glycerine, and the dance floor beckoned. Emma had to pee, so she stumbled off to stand in line for the ladies room. I headed back to the dance floor and just let the music overtake me.
The deep sounds of the guitar mixed with the sweet lyrics took me to a fantasy world. All I could think of were those haunting, crystal clear, green eyes. I raised my arms and swayed my hips. I slowly took off my leather jacket and set it on a nearby chair, having worked up a sweat from the song before. I knew my black lace bra could be seen through my shirt in the low bar lights, but I didn’t care. Thinking of that stare made me feel sexy and almost wanted. I scanned the dance floor for Emma, hoping she would make it back for this song, as I knew she loved it too.
As I continued to sway my hips and sing the words to myself, I could feel someone staring at me. I made a slow turn, trying to figure out if I was making it up through my alcohol-induced haze. A pair of green eyes once again startled me. I spotted him across the hazy dance floor sitting alone at the bar. He was still wearing his black sweatshirt, hood pulled up, and he was nursing a bottle of beer. I kept dancing, suddenly nervous of making a complete fool of myself. I could see his lips moving to the lyrics, as Gavin sang about his girl having a beautiful taste. Oh my god. He was mouthing the lyrics to me! This was the second time I had heard a song about the way I taste today, and both times were right in front of him. I wanted to look away, I really wanted to, but I couldn’t. I just kept dancing, swaying back and forth, and mouthing the lyrics along with him. Through the smoke, I saw him raise his beer to his lips and take a deep swallow. I just stared at him and swallowed hard, my nerves becoming more and more taut.
The song ended and Emma jumped up in front of me, startling me out of my reverie. We made our way back to the bar as I secretly looked for my green-eyed stranger. He had left the bar area, so Emma and I took his seat and the empty one next to it. Seether came on the speakers, Broken, featuring Amy Lee. I’d had a lot of people tell me I look like her, which I took as a compliment. She was freaking gorgeous. Lou showed up with two more shots and chasers and told us they were compliments of a fellow fan of Bush. My face burned red once again and Emma turned to look at me. I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. I briefly explained my encounter in class today and what had happened while she was in the ladies’ room. She began wildly looking around, trying to find him. I shushed her and begged her to stop, suddenly mortified that we were acting like we were back in high school talking about a crush.
I was a married woman, for crying out loud. I needed to put all thoughts about black hoodies and green eyes out of my head. We took our shots and asked for two ice waters, knowing we had to drive at some point that night. Push by Matchbox Twenty came across the speakers and I squealed. Yet another 90’s crush that hadn’t abated. I begged Emma to come to the dance floor, but she was deep in conversation with the guy next to her about some sports team or other. I knew it was hopeless once she got involved in sports talk, so I headed back to the dance floor alone. Once again, I secretly scanned the room for my watcher. I wasn’t sure if he was to be called an admirer yet, as I don’t usually attract admirers.
I sang the lyrics loudly, getting out some of my frustration. Moving my hips, I began gyrating and losing myself in my national anthem. I felt a presence behind me and got a whiff of laundry soap, deodorant, and a faintly distinct male scent. Hot breath danced along the back of my neck and a pair of hands lightly gripped my hips. I fought the urge to freeze and instead slowed my motions, swaying instead of gyrating. I looked down and saw black nail polish on the most beautiful set of masculine hands I had ever seen. I knew immediately it was my watcher.
He leaned in slightly, his chest touching my back, and whispered, “Don’t turn around,” into my ear. My heart skipped a beat as I got the first hint of his gravelly voice. He began singing the chorus to me…it was the most beautiful singing voice I had ever heard. The song ended and Long Day by Matchbox Twenty immediately followed it. I could have sworn someone was playing the soundtrack to my life.
I giggled to myself, the Jameson taking hold finally. His hands left my hips and I felt their loss acutely. I didn’t want to go against his command, but I wanted to look into those beautiful eyes up close. Turning around all I could see was that black hoodie quickly retreating into the crowd. I was disappointed and sang along with Rob Thomas. I was in a daze, forgetting who I was, what my life was, and momentarily stuck in a fantasy world where my troubles didn’t exist, wiped clean by those gorgeous hands.
The song ended and I shook my head to try to clear it. I went back to Emma and ordered a large ice water. Like a Stone by Audioslave came on next and sent me back in time to the days of drinking and karaoke with my ex-boyfriend, Brice. That’s when the darkness had completely taken me over. I was either in a drunken haze or high all the time, trying to escape his abuse and neglect and my mother’s hold over me, until I had felt so damaged and so undone that I had taken half a bottle of his sleeping pills to put my demons to rest. I had found him in our bed with his ex that night and it had been my undoing.
I had come so far in my life since that raging alcoholic of a cheating bastard, but I was a long way from where I longed to be. I went from
an emotionally abusive alcoholic cheater to a mentally abusive asshole cheater. Why couldn’t I have someone who took care of me? I imagined myself roaming from room to room, waiting for green eyes to appear. I was so confused. I needed to sleep this off and return to my real life where I had to make some life-changing decisions.
Chapter 4
I was sober enough by now to head out for some fresh air. I needed to get home…to what I wasn’t sure of. I kissed Emma on the cheek, made sure she was good by herself, and made my way outside. I walked quickly to my car, feeling eyes on me yet again. I scanned the parking lot, but there were so many cars that I’d never be able to find him. I opened my door, only to feel it being pushed closed. My nostrils were assaulted with whiskey and stale cigarettes, and a masculine voice said, “Hey baby, what’s the rush?” I froze in fear and slowly turned around. I was greeted by the beady eyes and drunken sneer of a very large stranger.
“You must have me mistaken for somebody else,” I mumbled.
He laughed, making my heart pound, and said, “Nope, you’re the fat slut from the dance floor.” I cringed at the word fat, knowing I should be used to it by now.
I tried to side step my way out but he quickly put both of his beefy arms onto my Beetle, effectively trapping me. I began to panic and couldn’t think straight. All I could smell was his putrid breath, and all I could see were those beady eyes burning with hatred and lust. I took a deep breath, willing myself to think. I could scream, but he might hit me or pull a weapon. I could hit my car’s panic button, but no one pays attention to car alarms anymore. I could try to kick him in the groin, but I feared I might miss and piss him off. I was out of options and in an all-out panic when I caught a glint of silver at his throat. A deep voice almost whispered, “Back away from the lady and I won’t slit your throat from ear to ear.” My attacker’s eyes grew wide in fear as he took a step backwards. I instantly recognized that whisper. I held my breath, waiting for this scene to play out.
My attacker tried to turn around, but green-eyes held the knife a little closer. I could see a drop of blood trickle down my attacker’s thick throat and I felt a small thrill at being rescued. Green-eyes started to slowly walk backwards, pulling my attacker with him. Once they were about ten feet away from me, he pushed the heavy man forward and I watched him stumble away very quickly without looking back.
When he was gone out of our sight, green-eyes flicked the knife shut and put it in his pocket. He raised his head and stared openly at me. His breathing was heavy, like he had just gone for a run. I watched his chest rise and fall and wondered what was under that baggy sweatshirt. His hood had come down and I could see his hair was black, slightly wavy, and overgrown. He shook his head and a curl fell into his eyes. I was still frozen in my spot, also breathing heavily. I had no idea what to say or do and I didn’t want to break the spell his stare had once again cast over me.
He approached me slowly, as one would a wild animal that had been backed into a corner. I just stared into those eyes, numb to the coolness of the night, and deaf to the activity of the bar near us. He lifted his arm and ran a finger down my cheek, wiping a tear away in the process. I hadn’t even known I was crying.
He said quietly, “It’s okay. He’s gone now. You’re okay.” I let out the breath I was holding and sobbed in another one. I kept staring into his eyes as I quietly nodded. He lifted his other hand and wiped away another tear.
“Do you need to leave right away?” he asked. I shook my head no, still unable to speak. I wasn’t sure if it was the shock of almost being attacked, or the spell his eyes had cast over me.
“Walk with me for a while,” he said. It was more of a command than a question. I nodded again and took a step forward. He took my hand, gently prying the keys from me. He locked my Beetle and put the keys into my jacket pocket, but never let go of my hand. I knew he had to have felt my wedding ring, but I didn’t say anything.
We began to walk down the sidewalk and into the nearby neighborhood. It was late, so many of the streetlamps were off. The street was dimly lit by some of the porch lights. He began to quietly hum Hang by Matchbox Twenty. His voice was melodic and calming. I could feel the calluses on his palm and the strength of his fingers as he lightly held my hand. He hadn’t put the hood back up, giving me a chance to study his profile. He had high cheekbones, a large, almost Romanesque nose that had a slight bump in the middle, and a strong chin covered in a goatee of thick, dark facial hair. His moustache was neatly trimmed and connected to his goatee around his full lips. He was tall, over six feet, and towered over my five-foot four. He must have felt my eyes on him, because I saw the side of his mouth raise up into that same slight smirk he had given me at the bar. Busted.
I opened my mouth to say something, but had no idea what I should be saying. I stuttered a few times and finally mumbled, “Thank you.” He stopped walking, turned to look at me, and my heart leapt into my throat. He ran his finger down my cheekbone once more, causing my breath to hitch. He was still humming Hang, and I couldn’t help but think it was on purpose. Some of the lyrics popped into my head and I thought to myself, How could he know how much this song speaks to me? It was like those green eyes pierced my tough exterior and looked right into the cloudy depths of my soul. He sang the final lyrics, softly so that only I could hear, and my heart almost stopped.
He let that last note fade into the night and I continued to stare at him. My mouth was slightly open and my breathing was labored. His face was as beautiful as his voice. I was light-headed and began to wonder if I was actually dreaming up this entire night. No one this beautiful would ever even look at me, let alone stare so openly at me or sing to me. He took my other hand in his free one and stooped down to look at me closely.
“Better now?” he asked quietly. I nodded slowly, still unable to form words. He smiled and my breath caught.
“Stunning,” slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. My face burned bright red and I was thankful for the darkness.
“Stunning?” he repeated questioningly. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I figured I might as well finish my thought, as the foolishness had already spilled from me in a moment of insanity.
Chapter 5
“You,” I said, “you’re stunning.” His slight smirk returned and he thanked me. He let go of one of my hands and turned us around and started walking us back to my car. We hadn’t gone very far and we reached the parking lot quickly, too quickly. I didn’t want this night to end. He pulled out a business card from his hoodie and tucked it into my jacket pocket.
“Text me when you get home so I know you arrived safely.” Again, I nodded, looking up into those emerald eyes, afraid of speaking, should anything else embarrassing pop out unexpectedly. He brought my hand to his lips and lightly kissed it, pulled my keys from my pocket and unlocked my door. He placed the keys in my hand and opened the door for me, all the while still holding my hand until I was seated. I pulled on my seatbelt and started the engine. He slowly closed my door and I heard him whisper, “Goodnight, Lily.” He knew my name. HE knew MY name. I stared up at him and he mouthed, “Text me,” and began to walk away. I turned on my lights and pulled out of my spot. I saw him watching me, yet again, as I left the parking lot, and I finally smiled.
“What the hell just happened?” I asked myself, shaking my head.
I turned on my Pandora Radio, hoping for a song that would fit my mood. Zombie by The Cranberries was on. Perfect. I had been a zombie for years now. Roaming aimlessly through my life, taking what little nourishment came my way, feeding off the scraps that were tossed to me by my husband, my boss, my family. Tonight was the first night in way too long that I had actually felt alive. I could still feel the slight brush of his lips on my hand and the caress of his callused fingers on my face. His voice echoed over and over in my head, ‘Goodnight, Lily.’ So soft, yet deep and almost scratchy. I wondered what he did for a living and remembered he had tucked a business card into my pocket. It suddenly struck me tha
t I had no idea what his name was. I couldn’t wait to get home and study every last detail of that card.
I pulled into my space, ran up to the second floor, and quietly let myself in. Ryan had fallen asleep on the couch still watching the television at a loud volume. I sighed and turned it down slightly. I knew if I turned it off, he’d wake up and come to bed. I needed to be alone. I was so hoping he’d actually be out tonight, like I had asked. I swear he stayed here tonight just to spite me, or maybe Katie was busy, ha. I needed the bedroom to myself. This whole night was a blur, and I needed to go through the details in my mind and figure out what exactly had happened. Anything could have happened with that drunken ogre, but it was like this green-eyed beauty of a man was my very own personal guardian angel. He’d swooped right in and made the man go away; then he’d been able to calm and soothe me with just a short walk and a few words.
The Watcher Series Volume # 1: Falling Page 2