One Knight Stand: Blaine

by Kayce Kyle

  “And you’re still an ass, Blaine,” she retorts, slamming down the gold liquid as she shudders at its potency. I hear Emmit chuckle from behind the bar where he’s polishing beer mugs. “You know these classes I’m taking are during the day, right? When you two boneheads are recovering and getting the sleep you need, I’m studying. Plus, Raymond stopped by today wanting to see Jett and, well, we got into it. So, please, spare me the lecture and cut me a break. You know I’m busting my ass here.”

  I glance at Emmit as the blood in my veins begins to boil. Emmit is only one wrong word away from beating Raymond to a bloody pulp. Raymond is a piece of shit loser and waste of space even in our small town, but he’s Jett’s father. Jett’s their four-year-old son. We’ve known Sharla since we were about ten years old and her family moved in next door to ours. She’s like a sister to us and even more so after her parents were killed in a car accident when she was pregnant with Jett. She and Ray were high school sweethearts. She’s always been too good for him, and he’s always been a loser. Our ma watches Jett while Sharla works, and her neighbor helps with him sometimes while she studies. She can most certainly be feisty, but she’s always been a caring person and a natural caregiver. So, when she decided to go back to get a degree to work in the medical field as a CNA, none of us were surprised.

  Walking up to the bar, I rest my elbows on the wooden counter. “Did he lay a hand on you?” I reach across and grab for her wrists, but she yanks them away.

  “No. And he hasn’t since the night the both of you threw him out of here for good. I guess you both scared him good.” She shrugs, almost offended that I would ask.

  Emmit sighs heavily. “The fucker better stay away from you if he likes his head attached to his shoulders.”

  Sharla giggles as she takes money from the safe and fills the register drawer. “That would insinuate he has a brain in that head of his, and I’m pretty sure it relocated to his dick years ago.” She slams the register drawer shut. “Anyway, he may have treated me shitty, but he’s Jett’s father. It’s not Jett’s fault his dad’s a piece of shit.”

  I walk over to the old jukebox we have in here to keep the feel of the bar country and cozy and turn her on. As I walk back behind the bar, I pat Sharla on the back. “Sorry about snapping at ya. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate and I wouldn’t dream of adding more, you know that. Between Emmit stressing me out about the big game tomorrow night and trying to get everything ready, I’m on edge.”

  “Oh, you don’t need me for you to be a fucking dick. You manage to do that extremely well on your own.” Emmit glares at me and I offer up my middle finger in exaggerated appreciation.

  The doors begin to open, and people pile in one after another.

  TARA

  “Sweetie, your text sounded urgent. Are you okay?” I jump, startled as Carmen’s hand briefly makes contact with my back before she sits across from me at the round glass table I’ve reserved for us.

  Removing my sunglasses that have been hiding my tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes, I hardly take a breath between words, “Preston’s going to ask me to marry him in less than forty-eight hours. Which I’m sure you already know about and, well, as you know, the bastard cheated on me. I’ve been on autopilot these past few weeks and haven’t confronted him. Hell, I’ve barely seen him. So, having to have sex with him after the fact hasn’t been a topic. I’m sure he’s screwing some whore at work anyway.”

  Taking my hands into hers from across the table, she squeezes them. “Tara, my sweet girl. Slow down. Breathe.”

  I pull one of my hands from hers and begin to fan myself as I blow out deep heavy breaths. “I can’t, Carmen. You know I can’t. I won’t.” I shake my head looking down, attempting to ward off any more of the tears awaiting their chance to burst free.

  “First of all, look at me,” Carmen demands, and I slowly turn my eyes up and back to hers. “I did not know about this. I have heard and seen a lot within those walls over the years, but this I have not heard of. Not until now. Your mother has been happier than usual. She’s been making and taking more private calls the past few days, but nothing to alert me that this was going on. What makes you think this?”

  “Rachel. She told me she’d overheard my parents discussing it and that Preston had already asked my fathers permission. He’s got this elaborate plan apparently for my birthday party.” I swipe the tears away that have found freedom and slid down my cheeks.

  Carmen releases my hand and sits back in her chair before she folds her arms over her chest and shakes her head. “Rachel, God love her, but she couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. She’s a big mouth, yes, but she’s not a liar. You have to confront him, Tara. Do it at your parents’ house tomorrow. He wouldn’t dare cause a scene in front of them. Your parents on the other hand, now they might be the ones to cause a scene. That bastard. Hurting my Tara this way.” She leans forward, extending her open palms inviting my hands into hers. “I knew he was bad news from the start. I will be there too, for moral support.”

  “I don’t know if I can. Even if I can, you’re right, my parents will freak out if I dump him. You and I both know they’d play their part in the moment as I confront him about cheating. But as soon as he left, they’d be trying to convince me to give him a second chance. That everybody makes mistakes.” I swallow the large lump that’s formed in my throat before I take a sip of my sparkling water.

  “Call him. Call him now. Set it up,” she orders me. Pulling her hands from mine, she starts gesturing toward my handbag where my cell currently resides. Gosh, she’s such a strong woman and she raised me more than my own mother did. Why do I feel so weak and hesitant about this when I know there’s no way in hell I’ll ever marry the lying piece of shit? Not now. Reaching inside my purse, I retrieve my cell. Looking at Carmen once more, she nods her head in encouragement, giving me the strength I need to place this call. Holding the phone to my ear, I whisper across the table, “It’s ringing.” The loud rhythmic thud of my own heartbeat pounds in my ears as ring after ring, he never picks up. Eventually, I get his voicemail. Of course. “Voicemail,” I whisper to her, and she nods her head again and flicks her wrist, silently encouraging me to leave him a message. My nerves sneak up and grab me, taking me hostage and I quickly end the call without leaving a voicemail before placing my phone down on the table.

  “Tara Elizabeth Billings, I am disappointed. Why, sweetie, why?” she pleads for an answer from me, taking my hands into hers once again.

  “I-I just can’t, Carmen. I can’t talk to him. He’ll sense something’s off in my tone. Of course, he’d have to answer first.” I feel my eyes shift as they roll in agitation. “Please don’t be disappointed in me.” I squeeze her hands. “I’ll figure it out, and by tomorrow. I promise.” I stand from my chair and she does the same. I pull her into my arms as the wheels in my head begin to spin. I know what I’m going to do. I’ll just come up with an excuse after the fact. I can’t tell her because the less she knows, the better. At least she can look and act as shocked as the rest of them without having to lie to their faces.

  After our embrace, she kisses my cheek. “Don’t do anything irrational, Tara. You’re emotional right now. When we act on pure emotion, the repercussions can be catastrophic. Like a baby bird learning to fly, we’re either going to find ourselves planted face first on the concrete. Or, we luck out and fly. The latter of the two is a rarity.” She cups the side of my cheek and I lean into her motherly comfort. “Remember that always my sweet girl. If you need me, call me.”

  I nod as my heart shatters inside knowing it’s time to part ways for now. She hesitates, but eventually turns and walks away. I want to curl up in her lap as I did as a little girl when I was upset. She’d run her fingers through my hair as she held me close and sang to me. It was so comforting and most of my friends all felt the same way about their nanny’s, too. Not a single one of us could share a story of either of our parents ever treating us this way or tending to ou
r broken little hearts.

  After returning to my penthouse, I receive a text from Preston apologizing for missing my call. He proceeds to tell me he’s working late and not to wait up for him tonight. Shocker. His lies and dirty little secrets make me feel filthy. I shower hoping to wash away some of that feeling before changing into some comfortable yoga pants and a tank top. After what feels like hours of flipping through the channels on my television, nothing has managed to find and hold my attention. Now, all I can seem to do is pace the floor to my apartment.

  The startling ring from my phone wakes me. Rubbing my eyes, I reach over and glance at the screen to see that my sister’s calling. Shit. I told her yesterday that we’d have a spa day today. Ignoring her call, I Spring from my bed. Racing to the bathroom, I brush my teeth, hair, and change into a pair of jeans and casual off-the-shoulder top. I finish my ensemble off with a pair of wedges before I gloss my lips and place my sunglasses on. Hastily, I grab my purse as I head toward the elevator door of my penthouse floor apartment.

  Placing my hand on my chest briefly as I inhale deeply, I feel the single two-carat diamond stud Preston had made into a necklace around my neck. It stops me in my tracks and everything leading up to this moment comes crashing down at once, nearly dropping me to the floor. My heart thunders inside my chest as it beats erratically, and I can no longer take it. I’ve got to get out of here; even if only for a few days. At least until after my birthday. Looking down to grab my keys off the sofa table a picture of Preston and I catches my attention. We look so happy. So content. What a fool I was to let myself believe that I had found the perfect man, that he was different than the rest. I feel for the necklace that still hangs like a prize from my neck and yank it off. I place it in front of the framed picture before I turn it face down and leave my penthouse. I have zero clue where I’m going, but right now, I don’t care. My instinct is to run, and that’s just what I’m going to do.

  Chapter Two

  BLAINE

  Tonight’s the big night, and as much shit as I’ve given Emmit, tonight is huge for this town and this bar. Rose City, Texas doesn’t have much going for it, but we’re all family in a sense. In such a small town like ours, everyone knows everyone. High School football, tailgating, and bonfires are what we do. It’s our life and what we know. Are we considered hillbilly’s or rednecks by some? You’re damn right. Do we give a fuck? Hell no. Some people are either born into and are suited for that fast-paced city life. Hell, I pity those fuckers. No wonder they’re all so uptight. I couldn’t imagine having to wake up each morning and sliding myself into some fancy tailored nut-hugging suit with my feet all cramped up into some Italian leather name brand shoes. Nah, this right here is the life. Slow-paced, comfortable, and not a single person to answer to or yapping in my ear. Well, besides Emmit and our ma occasionally. Those are the only two I will probably ever be able to stand in my ear. I’ve done the whole relationship thing when I was in my early twenties. Natalie the lying, cheating, slut. Yep, that’s what I call her. Bitch temporarily stole my heart and when she found her a man passing through town that had a little bit of money, she shagged ass and left me in the dust. Those rich fuckers are all the same. Look down on people such as myself, but my goddamn alcohol and establishment is good enough for them when they want something. Typical hypocrisy from someone born with a platinum spoon in their mouth. I refuse to allow another woman to ever have that sort of control over me. Relationships aren’t for me, and I refuse to budge.

  Aside from our parent’s and Sharla, nobody knows Emmit and I are loaded after our birth mother passed and left us millions a piece. It’s nobody’s business and I plan on keeping it that way. It helps separate the loyal people from the money hungry gold-diggers. Emmit and I never have to wonder or question anyone’s motives toward us. Yes, there are some women still looking for their ticket out of here. And finding it on their backs seems to be the way they go about it. My money sits untouched and in a savings account accruing interest. I like to pretend that shit doesn’t exist, although consciously I know it does.

  “Psycho alert!” I hear Sharla holler out from downstairs. “Your favorite, or shall I say, most recent bed buddy is banging on the front door of the bar calling out your name. Want me to let her in? Kick her ass? I can do both if you prefer.”

  I scrub my face with my palm and let out a heavy sigh. I told her last night I was completely done with her. “Nope! I’ll handle her,” I yell out, as I begin to make my way downstairs, taking them two at a time.

  Ugh, Gwen’s pounding on the bar doors and voice are the equivalent to nails on a fucking chalkboard. I unlock the door, but before I can open it fully, she shoves it, pushing me backward. “Karen? Really, Blaine? You sticking your cock in that slut again?” She shoves her finger into my chest in between each word.

  What’s this bitch talking about? I haven’t fucked Karen in, hell I can’t even remember. Arching a single brow, I cross my arms over my bare chest. “I owe you nothing, Gwen. And where I put my cock is none of your business. Never was. Now, get the fuck out before I call Sheriff Hall.”

  I feel someone approach me from behind and glance over my shoulder to see Sharla glaring at Gwen. “This is rich coming from a woman I once caught fucking my man when I was eight months pregnant. In my bed no less.” Sharla tries to step around me, and I hold my arm up to stop her and Emmit is in front of her but behind me in seconds as if he’s protectively guarding her. “Get the fuck out of here before the only people being called are the fucking county medical examiner’s office when I’m finished with you!”

  Gwen’s mouth parts and a look of shock etches across her face. “This isn’t over! You’re all a bunch of fucking losers who will never have anything more than this bar! And that will never change!” I grab her arm and usher her back toward the door.

  “You’re a pathetic slut that will spread her legs for any man in this town. And that will never change.” Sharla finishes taunting her before I shove Gwen out the door and lock it back behind me.

  Running my hand through the top of my hair, I ask Sharla, “That true? Did Ray really fuck her when you were pregnant with Jett? Why didn’t you ever tell us?”

  She blows out a heavy sigh and turns on her heel. “Does it really matter now, Blaine?”

  Shame and remorse wash over me for ever having that bitch in my bed or allowing her to step foot in this bar. “Yeah, it does fucking matter. I would’ve never allowed that bitch in here. Or in my bed. Just like Ray is banned, so is Gwen. Emmit, put her on the list.” Making my way to the back to check our stock and make sure we’ve triple checked everything, I mumble, “No idea where that Karen nonsense came from. She sat here at the bar last night for hours hitting on me, but I saw right through her desperation.”

  “That would be Emmit,” Sharla answers, never missing a beat as she checks off the list on her clipboard.

  I stop and look back to see my brother just in time for him to swallow so hard it’s audible. “What?” He tosses his hands in the air. “She was rubbing all up on my jock last night and I had one too many drinks.” He raises a finger and points to me. “Don’t you dare say a word. You know as well as I do that even Karen looks appealing with those beer goggles on.”

  I smirk in retaliation to the truth of his words. “Unfortunately, yes, I do. Wait. Sharla how did you know?” I shift my gaze to her, but she never looks up at me as she gnaws on the end of her pen cap. “She was leaving this morning as I was coming in. I wasn’t sure which one of you she’d bedded, but now I know.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say I sense a hint of jealousy in her voice. I look over at Emmit who simply turns and walks away.

  “Stop!” I order him and catch Sharla’s full attention as her eyes meet mine. “Tonight’s the night we’ve been waiting on. We’ve busted our asses extra fucking hard to make tonight perfect. Let’s not get sidetracked now all because Gwen showed up and made a fool of herself. Let’s get refocused and make tonight epic.” I close my eyes for a fleeting
moment and inhale deeply. “Something tells me tonight is gonna be a night we’ll never forget. This will go down in ‘One Knight Stands’ history books!”

  My pep talk does very little and they both grumble before getting back to work.

  TARA

  I’ve driven for hours upon hours now. I’ve blasted my radio and sang the breath right out of my lungs all while managing to cry, too. The sun has long left and went to bed, while the moon is now awake and helping light my way through this darkness. Glancing down at my clock I realize it’s past ten o’clock. I have no clue where I’m at exactly. Pulling my car over onto the shoulder of the freeway, I type in the nearest five star hotel. Unlucky for me, the closest one is over an hour back in the opposite direction. I glance over at my cell resting in the soft leather passenger seat and pick it up. Sixteen missed calls and twelve text messages. I despise what my family stands for and allows on the best of days, but it would still be cruel to let them assume the worst. Surprisingly, several of those calls and texts were from the lying cheater himself. Quickly, I send both Carmen and my sister a text message letting them both know that I’m okay. Only there’s one subtle difference in the one I send Carmen. I told her that no matter what, I was determined to be the rarity she spoke of no matter the cost. I asked her to trust me and assured her that I would be back soon enough and not to worry.

  After I’ve turned my car completely around, my navigation takes me down a desolate, two-lane highway of some sort. Surrounded by complete darkness, tiny rain pellets begin to fall and gloss over my windshield. My nerves begin to take hold and my grip around the steering wheel stiffens and I can feel my skin tighten as my knuckles turn white. “You people don’t believe in street lights or what?” I ask aloud, from the shelter of my car as I slow my speed.