Don't Look Back

by Candice Owen

  There was no disagreeing. Sharon was with him; she was to blame. And now she would fix it. There was no way she was going to let Lance Sanchez get away with nearly killing them. Acting on a hunch, she ducked into the women's locker room and called Polly's cell phone. Lance picked up.

  "I knew it," she said coldly.

  Lance's laugh gave her chills. "What do you know, little girl? I am just answering my missing fiancé’s phone."

  "What do you want? What will it take for you to get off our back?" she said.

  "I take it everyone is still in one piece?" He asked.

  "Yeah, no thanks to you," Sharon replied.

  "Well take that as pure grace. And you're smart to ask what you can do. For starters, I think you should come back to me," he said as though it were nothing.

  "I'll meet you at Lou's Blues. I am not making any promises. But I think we can start with a drink," she said.

  "Right. What guarantee do I have your goon boyfriend is setting me up?" Lance asked.

  "Oh so you don't have all the cards then, do you?" she asked.

  "I don't have you and that's all that I want," he answered

  "Jason is busy right now. This face-to-face is just between the two of us. I want us to come to an understanding."

  She hate like hell doing it, and she knew she would worry Jason like crazy, but she snuck off down the street to perhaps the area's most favorite watering hole: Lou's Blues. Sharon figured it was a public place and, while it was playing with fire, she would be fairly safe since it was well visited.

  She arrived first, taking a seat at the bar. Lance entered, and she knew he was there; she could feel him. She stiffened, wanting to delay their encounter for as long as possible. She hated him. But she let him kiss her hair.

  "Shall we get a table?" she asked.

  She wasn't sure what she was going to do, but one thing was for sure: she wasn't going to let Lance Sanchez take her freedom or harm her man. They ordered margaritas on the rocks. Sharon sipped. Lance knocked one back quickly and ordered a second. It had been a long time since she had a drink; she figure one would be okay, especially if she sipped. "That was a cute trick you pulled with the stairs," she began.

  Lance reached over and felt her up. She sat still while he kneaded her breasts, sticking his hands under her shirt, searching. "You better not be wearing any kind of wire."

  "Like you were tracking Jason's bike?" Sharon cocked her eyebrow. She only had a little bit to drink so far but she could feel it already.

  "Whatever. He stole my woman," Lance said. Sharon had to keep from physically shaking.

  "Yeah well, the stairs came off the wall and nearly killed us. There were three of us," Sharon said.

  Lance laughed. "You don't look worse for wear. Seems things turned out okay. I take it jailbird didn't get hurt?"

  Sharon forced herself to chuckle. "No silly, he and Apollo were in the clear when the stairs hit the ground. However, I was the one who was on them." She took another sip of her margarita. Man, it sure tasted good and she was almost done. This was not the way it was supposed to work. She was supposed to get him drunk and make him talk. Remorse for having blown a streak of not drinking or doing drugs twisted within her. What was she doing? She suddenly felt like a cigarette. She bummed one off of another customer who was very obliging in lighting it for her.

  Lance did not approve. In addition to being so ridiculously jealous, as if Sharon would fuck any guy who came along, he hated smoking. "That's not sexy. I am the president of La Calle. We have a rule against smoking. Did you know that?" he asked as he reached out and took the smoke away from her.

  She might be officially drunk. She was too confused to argue. "I think you need to come with me and show me how much you want to submit to me."

  She was not so drunk that she didn't know the code for giving head. He wanted a blow job. Sharon wasn’t sure if she was willing to do that. She asked the waitress for a glass of ice water.

  "Ice water? Is that your way of saying no?" Lance inquired.

  "Do you take 'no' for an answer?" Sharon retorted drolly, trying to play along to keep him at bay. When the waitress set the water down, Lance snatched the glass and pretended to smell it. "What is that about?" She knitted her brows.

  He handed it to her. "Just checking. You’ve been on the wagon for quite some time. It’s common for people with a thirst like yours to go off on a bender. "

  The excuse hardly made sense and something inside her said better safe than sorry; just don’t drink the drink. But she ignored that little voice. "Well, Lance, it was good to see you. I was hoping you were going to make me a deal here or something but since you were worried Jason was going to shanghai you, I would say we got nothing to be afraid of with you."

  "Oh are you leaving?" he asked darkly. "I think a guy could be nervous about being set up and have the power to make your lives a living hell, don’t you? I made it clear. I want you back. If I don’t get my way I can promise you more will happen than just a couple of loose screws. I do have the power to put you away so that no one has you. Ask your friend Polly."

  Sharon was stunned. And she was also drugged. She could feel whatever it was he must have slipped in her drink beginning to take effect. In a matter of hours, Sharon blew her sobriety with both drugs and alcohol, and was about to betray the man she loved, just to save him. "Now," said Lance, "Speaking of loose screws—shall we?"

  Lance put a couple of bills onto the table and offered her his hand. They left Lou’s Blues like a loving couple reunited.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Back in the days when she drank and used drugs, Sharon was used to waking up in strange places. It took her a moment when she came to from whatever Lance Sanchez slipped her to realize where she was. She went in and out of consciousness but she knew she was in Lance’s house, in Lance’s bed, and he was going down on her. Lance had a major erectile issue—Sharon blamed on his insecurity. And, when he had anything to drink, he simply could not get it up.

  High or not, she made the decision that if giving herself to him was what it would take to keep Jason safe, then that was what she would do. The fact that Lance doped her up was a mercy to her because she couldn’t stomach it otherwise.

  When she was high, she had very few inhibitions. She lied to Lance, telling him how great he was. His only concern ever was his appearances and his own pleasure. To make sex good for Lance all she had to do was stoke his ego.

  Out of her mouth was a constant stream of compliments while he slobbered on her with absolutely no style. Sharon lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling, waiting for it to be over. She heard the undeniable buzz of a couple of Harleys growing louder.

  Jason Larson didn’t wait until morning to pound on his door to find out where Sharon was. By that time, the drug, though it made her groggy, was wearing off. She knew very well the damage she had done but Jason didn’t; not yet.

  She spied at him through Lance’s bedroom window on the front step with Apollo. When she saw his face—his handsome face, with his dark lashes and stark blue eyes, perfect mouth—she knew she had done the right thing. There was no way he was going to go to prison and there was no way she was either. She would work Lance to get information about where Polly was and to get him to spill it about how he set Jason up so he ended up in prison.

  A powerful pang of guilt wrenched her gut. She had never even visited Jason in prison. Now, with the distance she put between them, she would never even be able to say she was sorry. One day she would make him understand.

  Jason pounded on Lance’s door, shouting for him to open up and face him. Lance slipped on an obnoxious silk robe and answered the door. He appeared half dressed just to irk Jason, Sharon knew.

  "Where is Sharon?" Jason demanded with as much constraint as possible.

  "She’s kind of unavailable at the moment," Lance giggled.

  "I want to speak with her," Jason countered.

  Lance snickered again. Apollo puffed up his chest, as if that we
re possible. "You sound like a twelve-year-old girl. I can fix that for you," he said.

  Lance stood toe to toe with Apollo, who was a good four inches taller and, overall, much bigger. "You threatening me, Greek boy?"

  Jason stepped back and happened to look up. He caught Sharon spying. "You had better get your ass down here now or I am going to assume you can’t! In which case I am coming up. You have till three. One."

  Lance shouted into the house. "Come down now! Prove to him once and for all!"

  Sharon swallowed hard, said a little prayer. She mussed her hair more, on purpose and like Lance, came to the door with the strong suggestion that she had been naked. She had to force herself to show herself. "Look at me," growled Jason. He took her jaw rather firmly in his hand. "Does she look wasted?" He asked Apollo.

  "She does," Apollo agreed.

  "Do you have that water bottle still in your bags?" he asked. Apollo nodded, already on the same wave length, and went to get it. "Work up a spit," Jason ordered her.

  Lance stepped up. "Why?"

  "Never mind," Jason retorted, and looked at Sharon. "Don’t you dare swallow until I say so," he ordered.

  "That will be the last time you’ll be able to tell her that," Lance joked and Apollo, joining them again with a half empty water bottle, sucker punched him.

  Lance had the wind knocked out of him and could hardly move or speak but he clutched for the bottle. He gasped. "This deal does not protect you Greek boy."

  Jason and Apollo chorused, "Deal?"

  Jason dumped the water out and ordered Sharon to spit into the empty container. Sharon refused and he honed in on her. They were a breath apart. "I don’t know what you’re up to or why you’re doing it. But you will spit into this bottle."

  "My mouth is dry," Sharon lied.

  "And after all you’ve had to drink," he scolded. "I see you are no longer straight."

  That hurt a lot but Sharon tried to not show any emotions. She worked up her saliva and released it into the bottle. "The only thing that will prove is that I did some drugs. We all know I’ve got a history. I am here of my own free will." She had never seen Jason so angry before and yet she was moved that he struggled to contain himself.

  "Oh really?" he challenged. "Remember how you got here?"

  Sharon searched. She knew she had a drink but from Lou’s Blues to the house, she had no recollection. "I didn’t think so," Jason said. "You do not belong here. No one but Lance is here because they want to be. Did I tell you to obey me? Trust me on this? In fact," he said, and without any warning, swept Sharon up over his shoulder.

  "Give her back!" Lance shouted. "I’m calling the cops!"

  Sharon couldn’t see but she could hear Apollo running interference with Lance, keeping him from getting into his own house. "I will pay you whatever you want, Sanchez. Just name your price. But she’s mine."

  Jason spun around and Sharon’s head spun with him. "But if I find anything but a recreational drug in her body. If there is one molecule of roofie in her system, I am shoving your head up that cop’s ass and it’s never coming out."

  He set her down so she could mount the bike. "I don’t have a helmet," she complained.

  "I will call a cab if I have to." He regarded her sternly. "But you are leaving. You’re standing up pretty good so I figure you are okay to ride. Here," he said, and he handed her his helmet.

  "I am not going to let you ride without one," she protested. But the look he fired back was so fierce, she complied. "Jason I am practically naked," she whispered, choked with embarrassment. There she stood in her panties and a sheet in front of all three men. "I can’t ride like this." He skimmed the wife-beater from his body.

  "This will have to do," he said.

  She turned her back to the house and dropped the sheet, quickly pulling the tank top over her. It fit like a mini dress and she had ridden in plenty of those. She swung her leg over; Jason's hands were on her intimately, instinctively cupping the cheeks of her buttocks. When his fingers lifted her panties and grazed the soft, moist lips beneath. They both paused long enough for Jason to admonish her with a stern look. Sharon burned. The only thing she wanted was to be his. How did it all get so complicated? Once she was situated, he climbed his bike and Apollo dashed for his.

  They went straight for the emergency room where Jason and Sharon bickered about the fact that he wanted her to get tested for date rape. "I can’t actually call it date rape," she said.

  "Why is that? And if you say you wanted to be there I will never speak to you again," said Jason.

  "You know I didn’t want to be there. I called Polly’s cell phone and he answered it. If she took off of her own free will, why did she leave that?"

  "Apollo is contacting the district attorney, don’t worry. Now you look pretty fucked up. How do you know he didn’t get inside you? If he gave you what I think he gave you, you can’t be sure."

  It was a humiliating admission to confess that the man she had been engaged to had sexual issues. "I can," she responded quietly.

  "How is that?" Jason asked.

  "Because he had a hard time… getting hard," she replied. Jason blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. "And I think Polly probably couldn’t take that and he must have gotten mad."

  "Oh… my… god. Could he get it up… ever?" Jason asked.

  "He managed to sometimes. It wasn’t great."

  "So you must have cared for him then, a little bit. You were committed to him?"

  "I was so lonely for you. And I felt so ashamed I wasn’t seeing you and he turned my head around—" She choked. "I really don’t have an answer. After the stair thing, I was so afraid he was going to do so something to you, I freaked."

  "You have to file a report. The longer you wait, the harder it will be to prove. That drug will leave your system before you know it. And not to scare you or cause you to run off, but we have to do it before that runty little cop gets here. He gives good cops as bad name."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Even though she had seen Lance with the intentions of playing nice with him, Sharon had the tests performed to see what it was she had been drugged with. It was no surprise when results came back positive for the date rape drug. Sharon had to meet with a cop and formally report Lance Sanchez.

  Somewhere as the sun was coming up, she and Jason went home, to the gym. Even though Jason spoke to her tenderly and lovingly and they were honest, Jason was pissed. He made good on his word that if she disobey her, he would not have sex with her. It wasn't good timing since she had just been in Lance's bed but they didn't even sleep in the same bed.

  Jason gave her their bed and he slept on the couch. But they both crashed soundly. Apollo was exhausted as well. He had been up most of the night as well. Jason quickly promoted the receptionist, a new high school grad, to assistant manager of Ink’s for the day.

  About mid-day the young employee was knocking on Jason and Sharon’s door, asking for someone to please come quickly. La Calle was shutting down Ink’s and he needed help. Apollo and Jason rushed to the lobby. Sharon had a hangover from the drug Lance gave her. She listened to Jason speak to his rivals. There was a reason he was the captain of the Rowdy Riders. It was just Apollo and him, two guys against a pack of possible enemies, and Jason handled it. "What do you boys want?" Jason asked.

  Sharon sat up in bed, still wearing the wife-beater Jason lent her. She couldn't imagine that it was possible, but someone crept up behind her and gagged her with his palm. She raised her eyes to check him out. Marty. Marty had been a relatively good-looking man at one time, but the steroids ruined him. She had forgotten how ugly he was. Positively grotesque. Sharon knew at once that the La Calle Motorcycle Club in the gym was a distraction to draw Lance and Apollo away from her.

  "Lance sent me here to remind you to keep your mouth shut." He pulled out a knife. "If being too afraid to follow what happened to Polly doesn't scare you, maybe this will." He gripped her flaxen hair and sawed. He hacked off the impeccab
le strands just at her shoulders and kept the ends. Tears streamed down her face. No one was going to hear her. No one could put her hair back. Marty disappeared as quickly as he appeared. When Jason entered the apartment finally he stopped in his tracks.

  "What the hell happened?" Jason demanded, his eyes a gleam with shock.

  "Marty—" she stuttered. "Came in here. To teach me a lesson."

  Jason sent a text and then put his phone away. "Come," he said decisively, "Get some clothes on."

  Sharon shook her head. "I am not trying to be difficult, but I am done. I don't want to one-up anyone. Between the slip last night and this, I feel as low as a person can get."

  "You're coming," Jason said. "We're going on a vacation. A passionate one. I just made Apollo captain for the time being. Cops know where to find us if anything goes down. The purchase of our house closes in another week. But we are moving out of this apartment now. We have the honeymoon suite the Crowne Plaza Paradise. And when we’re feeling a little better, I will get you fat on fish tacos over at the Long Doggers."