by MK Schiller
I rubbed his shoulder. “I forgive you, Evan, but why do you regret the way you used the years?”
“I’ve wasted them. Anyone else in my family wouldn’t have thrown that time away like I did.”
“Evan, your life isn’t over, but I don’t think what you said is true at all.”
“You don’t?”
“Baby, you make people happy with your music.”
“That’s nothing.”
“It’s a lot, Evan Wright. An awful lot, but even if you didn’t do that, you are a good person. You feed stray cats, you work at this bar for a bartender’s salary because you’re a good friend. And what you did for my brother… That was very special to my family.” I embraced him. “I’m proud of you, Evan. Your family is too. Not just because of what you do. I’m proud of the person you are.” I wanted to ask him why he didn’t go to Sri Lanka, but he’d shared so much already.
“Thank you, Billie…my beautiful Billie Marie.” He pulled back and tousled my hair. “I have no right to ask you for anything, but would you consider coming on a road trip with me?”
“What kind of road trip?”
“A soul-saving one. There’s a few long-overdue things I need to do. A few wrongs I need to make right. It would make it easier for me if you were there.”
“Then I’ll be there. Where is there?”
“Frisco City, Alabama, where I’m from originally—and a few other pit stops. We’ll be gone about a week.”
“When?” I didn’t want to miss Marley giving birth, but as soon as the idea came into my head, I dismissed it. He would be gone by then anyway. He’d bared himself to me, but he wouldn’t stay. I bit back the sudden pang of sorrow that gripped me and forced my lips to resemble a shadow of a smile.
“How about two weeks from now?”
“But the bar?”
“I’ll talk to Mike and Tilla. They’ve hired some more people. They won’t have a problem with it. Will you come?”
“I’ll follow you wherever you need to go.”
“Even in the dark?”
“Especially there.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s funny how you think the worst is over or yet to come, but we never stop to think about the in-between. And bam, that’s when life happens—all those in-between times.
A week before Evan and I were set to leave, it appeared to be a very normal night at the bar.
“You and my wife have gotten close, right?” Mike asked me.
“Yes, she’s my work bestie,” I said.
“I don’t really get girl terms like that, but here’s the thing. I need your help.”
“With what?”
“Our anniversary is in a few weeks and I have no idea what to get her.”
A baby, I almost blurted, but instead I asked him what she liked.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking for help.”
I laughed and patted him on the chest. “Okay, let me think on it for a bit.”
“It has to be special. She’s my everything and I need to give my everything something special.”
“That’s sweet, Mike. You should say that to her.”
“Okay,” he said, searching the bar, no doubt looking for his everything.
“Not now. Save the good stuff for your anniversary.”
He nodded, smiling wryly like we were conspirators. “I gotcha.”
Evan came behind me while I was mixing drinks. He grabbed the shot glass, throwing it up. I caught it mid-air. He handed me a bottle of grenadine before I could even search for it. “Hey, Mike told me you’re going to help with the anniversary. I want in on that.”
“You want to help?”
“Why not?”
“Look at you, Mr. Romantic.”
“Don’t get carried away, Billie Marie, or else.”
“Or else what?”
He bent down so his mouth hovered above my ear. “I’ll have to carry you away, over my shoulder and straight up the stairs. You look fucking delicious tonight. Are you trying to kill me with this outfit?”
Yep…sure was. I’d worn a short, black pleated skirt and a V-neck tank top, which created some cleavage. I paired it all with knee-length socks with my Mary Jane shoes—an ensemble I referred to as Catholic School Girl meets dirty little freak.
“We’re on, Evan.” Mike called out.
“You heard him. You’re on, Evan.”
“Only if you promise to get me off later,” he whispered before licking the shell of my ear. And the Catholic School girl almost lost all her manners to Dirty Freak Girl in that instance.
Damn if the first song he chose wasn’t Sex and Candy by Marcy Playground.
“Hey, kid.” There was only one guy who called me kid.
“Dillon,” I screamed, coming around the bar, almost toppling him with my hug.
“Wow, watch the hair, please,” he said, brushing it back. “Speaking of hair, you could use a trim. What’s the heck are you wearing, Billie? Sexy vampish goth…I love it.”
“Too much?”
“Just right.”
“Thanks. What are you doing here?”
“You told me to drop by for a drink, remember?” He gestured to the bar. “I see my suggestions are working out.”
“I didn’t work here before they were made, but everyone says it’s better now.”
The tall, muscular guy behind Dillon cleared his throat.
“You gonna introduce us, McKay?”
“Sorry. Billie, this is Josh.”
I pulled on Dillon’s shirt. “Marley’s Josh?”
“Marley doesn’t have a Josh. She has a Rick. I have a Josh, and this is him. But yes, I did meet him through Marley, if that’s what you’re asking. And boy, am I glad you passed.”
“You used to work with my sister, Josh?” I asked, because the guy had a pierced tongue and tattoos covering both arms. Marley had worked for a conservative, family-owned company.
“Yeah, she’s a great girl. How is she? We all miss her at the office.”
“Oh good. You’ll have to come by and have dinner with us sometime.”
Dillon shot me a worried look. I shrugged my ‘get the hell over it’ look back at him.
“We’re going to find a table close to the band,” Dillon said, taking Josh’s hand.
“I’ll grab you some drinks. What do y’all want?”
“Did you just say y’all?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Baby girl, we’re from Chicago. We say ‘you all’. Sometimes we say ‘yous guys’. But we never ever say ‘y’all’. Is that cowboy rubbing off on you?”
“In all the right ways.”
“I’ll have a Killian’s,” Josh said.
“Make it two,” Dillon added.
“You want a beer? Not a cocktail?”
Dillon looked at Josh, the corners of his mouth crinkling. “You can’t make the kind of cocktail I want.”
Looks like I’m not the only one being rubbed off…rubbed on…rubbing…whatever. Shit, I was horny.
Josh and Dillon each pulled out chairs and stared at each other. I laughed, realizing they’d pulled out the chair for each other. How cute. Like Evan, Josh was a little Rocky Road, and Dillon was…Neapolitan, but it sounded like a really good flavor combination to me.
The night wore on, but I’d never had so much fun at work. Evan sounded terrific and even the fangirls didn’t bother me tonight. Plus, I got to chat with Dillon and Josh whenever I had a free moment.
All my customers were friendly too. Well…I did wish the table next to Dillon’s wasn’t so friendly. It was six rowdy guys who kept referring to me as ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’ and all those things that sounded sweet coming from someone you cared about and creepy coming from someone you didn’t.
“I want a mojito,” the guy I’d nicknamed Alligator said. Not because he was scary, but because the few times he got up, he did zigzag. I wondered if I should cut him off. “Now take out your pen and paper so I can explain how to make that.”
“I think you’ve had enough.”
“I’ve had two drinks here.”
That was true. I’d only served him two. “I don’t believe we’re the only establishment you’ve been at tonight.”
“Establishment…now that’s a big word coming from such a tiny girl.”
“Take it easy, asshole. She’s just doing her job,” Turtle said. I called him that because his knit cap resembled a turtle’s shell. “Don’t bring him anymore drinks.”
For whatever reason, Alligator didn’t argue and I was grateful for it.
“Thanks,” I said to the Turtle when Alligator stormed toward the bathroom.
“Anytime. I’m really sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I’ve had worse,” I lied.
Eventually, everyone in the group left until there was just Turtle.
“You guys need anything else?” I asked Dillon and Josh shortly before last call.
“I’m going to squeeze in a quick game of pool,” Josh said. “You coming, McKay?”
“You go ahead. I’m going to sit,” Dillon said.
I moved to the table next to them. “It’s going to be last call soon,” I said to Turtle.
“Why don’t you take a break and enjoy it with me?”
“I’m not allowed to sit with guests.”
He gestured toward Dillon. “I saw you sitting with him earlier.”
“I have a boyfriend.”
His hand grazed my leg. “I won’t tell.”
“I will, and I swear if you don’t remove your hand right now…”
“I got you. He’s going to kill me.”
“He won’t have to because I will. But he will help me bury the body.”
He didn’t move his hand away. Instead, he slid it down my leg. “I like it feisty. Come on. We both know you’ve been coming on to me all night.”
I backed away from him. He stood. I had to look up. He was tall enough that his body cast a long shadow over me.
“Are you seriously scared of me? I’m just trying to be friendly. Remember what I did for you earlier?”
“Hey, you touch her again and you answer to me,” Dillon said, wedging himself between us.
“Are you the boyfriend?”
“You can call me the fucking bodyguard for all I care. Point is, it doesn’t matter who I am. It only matters what I plan to do to you if you don’t leave right now.”
I desperately searched for Brick but he was nowhere to be found. I grabbed Dillon’s arm, surprised how muscular it felt. “Dillon, let’s sit down.”
“Listen to your girlfriend, buddy.”
I managed to get between them. “Leave before I call the police,” I said.
“I am the police, honey.”
Oh shit. Dillon was trying to pull me out of the way while the asshole in front of me was trying to grind into me.
“How old are you? ’Cause you look way too young to be working here. Why don’t you come to my car and I’ll show you what a real man can do.” The scent of liquor spilled from his breath.
I went to knee him in the groin, but he moved back just in time. “He is more of a man than you’ll ever be,” I spat. Dillon was holding me back now.
“What the fuck is going on over there?” Evan’s voice boomed through the microphone.
“None of your business,” Turtle answered back.
“You’re groping my girl and that is my business.”
“She’s not with you. This slut is with the maggot over here.” Only the guy didn’t say maggot. He said the other word that began with F that I couldn’t repeat.
Everything got real quiet then…at least for me. Ten things happened at once. I felt a swoosh of air from Dillon’s arm as his fist flew past me, connecting to the guy’s jaw. I screamed, but nothing came out. I stumbled back. My chest heaved and I could hear my heart as if it had lodged itself in my eardrum. I turned toward Evan. It was like slow motion. He threw his guitar. It made a strange riff as it bounced on the stage.
He leaped onto a table then a second one, slow and fast all at once. When he jumped on top of the cop, knocking Dillon out of the way, they crashed to the floor, followed by shattered glass and spilled drinks. Evan swung his arm back. I winced at the cracking sound of breaking skin and broken bone. But he didn’t stop.
“Evan!” I screamed. This time it had volume but he wasn’t listening. I scrambled toward Dillon and helped him up. “Are you okay?” He touched his hand to his lip. It was bleeding.
“He’s going to kill him,” Dillon said. Dillon and I each took one of Evan’s elbows mid-blow. That was a mistake. Evan whipped his arm back mid-punch, jabbing me right in the eye.
Someone screamed… Oh, it was me. I landed on my ass, searing pain spreading across my face. I cupped my hand over my eye. It took Mike, Brick and Josh to finally hold Evan back.
“Get some fucking control,” Mike screamed.
Evan blinked rapidly, until he focused on me. His mouth gaped. “Billie… Did I do that?”
He turned to Mike and Brick for confirmation. “Let me go.” He fell to his knees and crawled over to me. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he said. He helped me onto his lap. “Let me see it, baby.” He took my wrist and moved my hand. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
“It’s over. Go home,” Mike said to Turtle. I flinched at the sight of my assaulter, who sported a black eye, broken nose and split lip.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and the air whistled. Maybe he’d lost a tooth in all the commotion as well. “Are you kidding? This is just beginning. Your employee just beat up a cop. Either I’m going to own this place or shut it down. And you,” he said, pointing to Evan. “You are going to jail for a very long time.”
“I don’t think so,” Dillon said, leaning on Josh for support.
“No doubt about it. I can see the headline now, ‘Bar Brawl Results in Attack on Local Cop’.”
“I can see the headline too, but it reads ‘Local Cop Starts Bar Brawl and Slings Gay Slurs’.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Oh, it is,” Dillon said. “You called my sister a very offensive name. When I came to intervene, you did the same to me. Then you punched me in the lip. Luckily, I had my friends here to defend me. I’m a protected group. You know what that means? The F-word. Not the one you called me but the other one—felony.”
“That’s not how it happened.”
“That’s the way I’m telling it.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not the only witness then.”
“That’s the way I saw it too,” Mike said.
“Me too,” Brick added.
The guy looked around the bar, but Mike stepped in front of him. “If any of you saw anything and feel like going downtown to make a statement, please raise your hand.”
No one did.
Mike turned back to Turtle, shrugging. “Sorry, man, but you are really shit-faced. Is it possible things went a little differently in your head?”
“Are you going to walk out on your own two feet or should I drag you?” Brick asked, shaking him slightly.
The guy walked out.
I heard Evan thank Dillon. Dillon shrugged as if his quick thinking hadn’t just saved the day. “I’m sorry,” Evan whispered to me.
“It’s okay, Evan. You’ve said that.”
His hand shook as he picked a piece of glass from my hair.
I grabbed his wrist and flipped it over. I gasped at the sight of his raw, bloody knuckles. “Your hand.”
“It’s fine.” He pulled it away before I could finish my inspection. “I’m going to get you some ice.”
“Actually, I have a bag of frozen peas in my freezer. That would be better. Bring a few bags.”
I felt him fish in my pocket for my keys. He helped me to the chair. “I’ll be right back.”
Mike cleared his throat. “Okay, everyone. Last round’s fifty percent off.”
The bar erupted in cheers.
> “Why don’t we just give it to them for free?” Tilla asked.
“Because I want to buy you a really nice anniversary present,” Mike said, putting his arm around her.
“Good point.”
Evan rushed down the stairs. “I could only find one bag of peas and two bags of carrots. Will that work?” he asked, holding out the bags with shaking hands.
“No, it has to be peas.”
“Really?”
I laughed. “Give it.”
When everyone had left, a group of us sat around licking our wounds or rather, one another’s. Evan held the package of carrots to my eye. I held another against his swollen, bruised knuckles. Josh cleaned Dillon’s lip.
“Do you think you’ll be able to play guitar?” I asked.
“I don’t care.” He placed his other hand under my chin and lifted my face to meet his. “Did he…did he hurt you?” Then he shook his head. “I mean, I know I hurt you more, but did he?”
“No, really, I’m okay.”
His brow furrowed, a look of anguish taking over all his features. “You are not okay. You’re going to have a huge bruise and I did that. I’m never going to forgive myself.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’ve hit her before,” Dillon said.
“What?” Evan’s eyes narrowed but my laughter calmed him.
“We were going for the same bouquet at Mom’s wedding and she was in my way.”
“Who got the bouquet?” Tilla asked.
“Dillon did, but he gave it to me out of guilt. Maybe that was my plan all along. Did you think of that, Dills?”
“I always knew you had the heart of angel and the mind of a villain.”
“Thank you for what you did,” Mike said to Dillon. Everyone followed suit.
“You saved my ass and, more importantly, this place,” Evan said.
“I just wished my punch would have knocked him out.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I said.
Josh kissed Dillon on the forehead. “I can’t believe I missed it all. I’m never going to play pool again.”
“Why did you do it?” I asked. “You could have gotten hurt.”
“I couldn’t let him get away with that.”
“I get why you reacted that way,” I said.
Dillon leaned forward on the table. “There’s no way I’m going to let anyone treat you that way. Not on my watch,” he said.