Stephen closed his eyes and set the empty shot glass on the table. Mallory. Perfect. That’s all he needed. Would he still be able to make his escape? If not, he’d definitely need another drink.
He turned to the two men. “Sorry fellas, but it’s time to go. Maybe you can win back your money another night.”
Jinkens’ eyes narrowed.
Mallory stepped into the midst of their little group and glared at Paul. “What are you two doing in here? Thought Gary told you to stay out of his bar?”
Paul started to reach his arm around her. “Aw, he’s not even here, doll. He won’t care.”
Mallory darted out of his reach, moving closer to Stephen.
Man, he didn’t want to have to fight these guys. He hoped she’d not cause any trouble. His head was feeling a little light. Maybe he didn’t need any more to drink.
Holding up her phone, she said, “I can give him a call. If I remember correctly, he warned the rest of us about you two hooligans at the last town meeting. Or, how about I check with Sheriff Boyd? Saw him out patrolling tonight on my way in. I’ll ask him.” She opened her contacts list and started scrolling through the list of names.
“No need for that. We’re done here anyway.” The men slammed down their pool sticks. Jinkens called Mallory a rude name, then shoved past them, nearly knocking Stephen off his feet. Wouldn’t take much the way his head was spinning.
“Those two,” Mallory growled, her disgust evident. She turned to face him and pointed to his glass. “Didn’t know you were a whiskey man. Been a rough day, Sweetheart?”
“You can say that.” Stephen took his drink, realized it was empty, then set it back down. “I should probably—”
“Let me buy you another. Show you there’s no hard feelings. I’ve had a crazy night, too. Mind sticking around? For a friend?” When he hesitated, she added, “We can be friends, at least, right? A person can never have too many, you know.” She winked and caught one of the barmaids. “Two more of whatever he was drinking. I’ll start a tab.”
“Sure thing, Mal,” The busty blond tossed a wicked grin his way.
Oh man, he should really get out while the getting was good.
Mallory grabbed his arm and dragged him over to two cushy chairs. “We can sit here and listen to the wannabes belt out show tunes.”
“Great.” Sarcasm dripped from his remark. But he didn’t argue. He needed a moment for his head and stomach to settle. He’d nurse this next one, talk to Mallory a bit, then make an excuse to escape.
“How’d Little Miss Dixie do tonight? I had several customers say they’d been turned away from her barbecue joint.” Mal chuckled and downed her drink in one swallow. She ordered two more.
Stephen rubbed at his eyes. Would this night ever end? He wasn’t feeling too great. “I helped wash dishes. But yeah, they’re going to need more wait staff.”
Mallory waved her hand, flashing that bright pink polish. “Oh, it’s not as if I’m feeling like sloppy seconds. I’m pleased she’s finally doing so well. Ethan’s sister stopped in with Bob Beaty. They looked sweet together. I was wondering if Bobby would ever start dating again. He had a pretty nasty break-up with Glenna. They’d been dating a couple of years. Thought for sure—” her words began blurring together along with the lights hanging behind the bar. “—she suddenly leaves town. No explanation.”
Stephen downed his drink in one gulp at the mention of Bekka and the grease monkey. His stomach rebelled at the invasion. That was dumb, Gaines. Really dumb.
“Excuse me?” He asked because it looked as if she were still taking, but he couldn’t make out her words. The sound of rushing water rang in his ears. That couldn’t be good. He didn’t like how he was feeling. He set his glass down, determined not to pick up another.
“I said…people are just strange. You think you have them pegged, and they do something that just pulls the rug right out from under you. No explanation.”
Stephen rubbed at his temples. Maybe he should call Ethan to come pick him up. Nope, he’d left his phone behind. He silently cursed.
“You really look like you’ve been run through the mill, honey. Want to talk about it?”
Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Just getting a headache.”
“So do you know if Bekka is sweet on Bobby? I was under the impression she didn’t plan to stay for long.” Mallory probed.
Was Mal sweet on the grease monkey, too? Perhaps they were more alike about playing the field than he cared to admit. Not that he had any more interest in playing any fields. Baseball was a dumb sport. Or was that football? What was wrong with him? His thoughts were all scrambled.
He tried to push himself out of the chair. “I better get back. I have—”
“I just ordered another round.” She protested. “Just one more, then I won’t hold you back. It’s nice just sitting here and relaxing. Don’t you think? After such a crazy night, we deserve it.”
There was nothing relaxing about what was going on inside his brain and gut. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and down his neck. He didn’t want to talk anymore. Most of all, he didn’t want to talk about Bekka. Especially about Bekka being with another guy. A nice guy.
“I’ve been curious, and just call this a hunch, but why aren’t you with Bekka? She’s beautiful like her brother.”
Stephen peered through his fingers and rubbed furiously at his aching forehead.
Mallory smirked. “Yeah, I was taken by Ethan before Miss Dixie two-stepped in. Think he was hooked on her from the start, though. You can tell by the way a couple looks at each other.” She downed the rest of her glass. “I’ve seen you looking at Ethan’s sister. The other day when you all stopped in for lunch. You had that same dumbstruck gaze. Does he know how you feel?”
“I… don’t know what you—”
“Please, don’t pretend with me. We’re friends, right?”
For a second, he wondered if Mallory had slipped something into his drink as a payback. No, she might give him the cold shoulder, or dupe him into paying for an expensive bill, but she’d not stoop to drugging him. He swallowed, feeling his throat clamp tight. He needed to get out of this stifling room before he lost it. “I better go.”
He managed to stagger to his feet. Then his head did a sickening spin, and he almost tumbled over. Mallory steadied him, a look of concern on her face.
“I think you do need to go. But you can’t drive. How many have you had, honey?” She led him toward the door.
Stephen stumbled forward, and a man caught his arm. “You okay there, Mal?”
“Yeah,” She hefted Stephen’s other arm over her shoulder. “Think he’s had a few too many.”
“Well, don’t let him drive home in this rain.”
“I won’t.” She pushed through the door, dragging Stephen with her.
He staggered along, searching his pockets for Ethan’s keys. The cool, wet air felt good and eased the burning sweat pouring down his forehead and neck. Stopping, he tilted his head back, letting the raindrops hit his face. The movement nearly sent him tumbling backward.
Mallory shoved his back against the wall and kept him propped up by bracing her elbow against his chest. “Give me those keys.” She glanced around the parking lot. “I don’t see your car… oh, don’t tell me you’re in Ethan’s junk truck. Mercy, I can’t drive a stick shift.”
“I’ll be…” His words were lost in the spasm his stomach gave before heaving up whatever he’d had for dinner.
Mallory stepped back. “If you’re going to do that, I’m not letting you in my car, either.” She shook her head and looked around.
Two men came around the corner. Those jerks from the pool table. One of them tapped his friend and pointed in their direction.
Mallory shot them a hate-filled glare. “You still here? I meant it about calling the sheriff.”
Both snickered and hurried off down the street. Stephen started to lunge after them when Mallory grabbed the front of
his shirt and slammed him into the brick wall.
“What do you think you’re going to do? Puke all over them?”
He pointed a shaky hand at their fuzzy forms. “I think they put something in my drink.” He’d had more than he intended, but not enough to cause him to feel like this.
“Wouldn’t put it past them. That’s what you get for gambling with those twits.” She hooked his arm around her shoulder again. “I don’t mind the rain. It feels kind of nice. We’ll walk to my place, and you can sleep it off.”
Stephen hesitated, not sure that was such a good idea. Matter-of-fact, he was sure he’d be jumping right out of that proverbial frying pan and into the inferno. Not that he didn’t trust himself, but he still wasn’t too sure about Mallory’s intentions.
“Look,” she stomped her foot in aggravation. He noticed her rain boots matched her pink fingernails. Did she do that on purpose? “I can call Ethan. Tell him where his truck is. Have him come—”
“Let’s go.” Stephen surged toward the street. A car honked, then passed on by.
With a loud sigh, Mallory looked both ways, then started across. “You’re so going to owe me, Gaines. That’s all I have to say. You’re going to owe me big.”
Could his night get any worse? The way his stomach continued to heave and churn, he feared it just might. He had to stop two more times before they reached the street where her diner was. Each step became pure torture. All he wanted to do was curl up in a tight little ball somewhere and sleep this off.
He stopped, losing the last bit of whatever his stomach held.
“That’s it, buddy, get it all out before we get to my place. The more you get rid of out here, the better.”
He glared up at her, as he leaned against a smelly dumpster just outside a meat market. The stench of fish and rotten meat made him dry heave.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him along again. Cramps clamped around his stomach. They must have spiked his drink. Must have. He shouldn’t feel this horrible. He couldn’t even focus on anything beyond his steps.
“E-man is going to kill me after all,” he mused, wondering why his voice sounded so loud in his head. “I wonder if I should go ahead and tell him about Beks. He can only kill me dead once.”
Mallory’s steps slowed. “What about Bekka? Are you going to tell me now that I was right?”
Stephen squinted over at her. There were two Mallorys. Cool. “Did I say something?”
She chuckled. “Sure did. You’ve pretty much admitted what I’ve suspected all along. Go ahead. Say you’re in lust with your best friend’s sister.”
He shook his head. “Not lust. It’s never been that.” They came to a lamp post. He grasped it to steady himself. “She’s the only one I think I’ve actually loved. He almost killed me when he found out about us back in high school. Put me in the hospital. Told me he wasn’t going to apologize for it, and that he’d do worse if I didn’t stay away from her. Called me a bunch of names you’d be surprised would come out of Ethan’s mouth. But they did.” He pressed his left cheek against the cool metal of the post. Why was he so hot? Was that sweat pouring down his back, or was it still raining? Maybe he should sing. Isn’t that what musicians did when they were out in the rain?
He blinked. “Oh man, I should have stopped at the third one. Or maybe I should have just gone and bought some smokes and settled for that. God, I’m such a dumb—”
“Think He doesn’t know?” Mallory grabbed his shirt and pulled him along. “Keep walking. We’re almost there. I’m ready to get out of this mess. I see lightning.”
“God hates me.”
“Doubtful. Even I’m a little fond of you, and I know He has a much bigger heart than I do.” She reached a metal gate and pulled out a set of keys to unlock it. The walkway led between the storefronts.
Mallory had told him on his first trip there that most of the business owners had apartments above their shops. She led him around the back to a set of stairs. Stephen stumbled after her and stopped at the bottom of the steps. He looked up and for a moment he was sure they went all the way into space. His vision clouded, his world spun, and he slid down onto the third stair and rested his throbbing head on his knees. “I’m not sure I can make it up there, Mal. Just leave me here.”
“You, big dope. I’m not leaving you. My neighbors like me. It would be like leaving my trash bags in the walkway.”
He lifted his head, causing his stomach to flip. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. Get up. We’re almost there.”
“I don’t feel good. I’ve never felt like this when I drank before.” At least they were in the shelter of the awning and out of the worst part of the shower.
She sank down beside him. “Maybe God likes you more than you think and He’s trying to teach you a lesson about drinking too much.”
Stephen actually found that funny. “I’d rather He just keep hating me if that’s the case.”
Swiping wet curls off her face, she shook her head. “I don’t get why you think everyone is against you. First, you say that Ethan is going to kill you. Then you’re convinced God hates you. Now I’m not on the best terms with the big guy, but I do know He’s not really a hater. Not from the stories I’ve heard. So what’s up? Why are you so down on yourself?”
“You don’t like me. Do I really have to explain what a total jerk I can be?”
She gave a nod. “Okay. Point taken. But, there’s a nice guy in there. I’ve seen him. Ethan must have seen it. And I’m pretty sure Bekka loves you as much as you love her.”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t.”
“Strange. She sure seemed concerned about you when you left the restaurant the other day. Was telling Ethan to go find you. Knew something was bothering you. That doesn’t come from someone who doesn’t care. She’s probably miffed at you, too.” Mallory pulled her skirt tighter around her legs and shivered. “You have this way of just doing what you want and not taking into consideration how others might feel about it. Have you ever asked Ethan about dating his sister? Or did you just decide you liked her and did your own thing?”
Oh man, could his headache get any worse? Could Mal’s words pierce any deeper? God, why don’t you go ahead and strike me with a lightning bolt? Let’s just get this over with. Put me out of my misery.
Should he warn Mallory to move aside? Doubtful God would even bother to grant him this one little wish. Another reason Stephen wondered about his standing with Him.
“Don’t hear you denying it.” She stood again and tugged at his arm. “Get up, you big dope.” When he forced himself to stand, she grabbed his shoulders to steady him. “Know what Bob Beaty did before he asked Bekka out on tonight’s date? He checked with Ethan first. He’s a gentleman like that. It probably sounds stupid to a guy like you who just goes after what he wants, but I could tell Ethan respected him for asking, even if he knew Bekka would do whatever she wanted.” She tugged at his arm. “Now come on. I’d like to get out of this rain.”
“Hey there, Mallory. That you?”
She stopped her tugging. “Oh, hey Ray. You just getting home from your shift?”
A man wearing what Stephen thought might be some kind of dark blue uniform strode up to them. He stared hard at Stephen who gripped the rails as if his life depended on it. If she forced him up those steps, it just might.
“What’s up with your friend here? He doesn’t look too good.” The man grasped Stephen’s wrist, his fingers pressing against the inside right above his palm. He wanted to try jerking his arm free but was afraid to release the railing. “Heart rate seems a little off. He looks pretty pale. You think he might need a ride up to the ER?”
Mallory shook her head. “No. He’s had a few drinks, and I have a suspicion… well, he had a run-in with Mitch Jinkens and Paul Turner. Need I say more? I’m thinking they were a little put out that he beat them at pool.”
Ray sucked in a sharp breath as he nodded. “Well, I’d feel better if you’d let me help you. Has
he gotten sick yet?” Was that a mustache growing over his upper lip or had a caterpillar died there?
“Oh yeah, all the way here.”
Ray chuckled. “That would explain the pallor. Let me help you get him upstairs.”
Did they really have to talk about him as if he were a discarded toy? Of course, it didn’t help when the guy hooked his over arm over his shoulder and lifted him up the stairs like a stuffed doll. How did he get himself in these kinds of situations?
They managed to drag Stephen into Mallory’s apartment and over to the dining table where Ray deposited him in one of the wood chairs. “You’re both drenched. Mal, go get some dry clothes on while I brew a pot of strong coffee. Is the trashcan still under the sink?”
“Yep. Thanks so much Ray. I didn’t want him to risk driving home in this. He’s Ethan Winter’s friend. Stephen Gaines, this is my neighbor Ray Jordan. Let him check you out. He’s an EMT.”
Like she was giving him a choice in the matter? The door to her bedroom closed. Ray knelt beside Stephen. “Be honest. You taking any drugs? Prescription or otherwise?” His thick brow cocked in question.
“No. I just stopped in for a couple of drinks.” He rested his head on the table. Man, but he wanted people to leave him alone. He needed some sleep. He needed his head to stop pounding.
“Dude, don’t go to sleep yet, or I’m calling an ambulance.” Ray shook him so hard, his teeth knocked.
“No!” Stephen gasped, forcing himself to sit up. “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a long day. I’m beat.”
Ray pulled the other chair closer. He pressed his fingers against Stephen’s neck, then lifted his eyelids and studied his eyes. Was this guy really a medic or looking for a date? What was his deal?
“Listen. Gaines, is it?” He leaned in closer, his expression dead serious. “You’re either suffering from alcohol poisoning or I suspect your drink was tampered with. If you angered Jinkens, my guess is he slipped you something that would knock you out. If Mallory hadn’t shown up when she did, they probably would have waited for the drug to take effect, led you out back, beaten the crap out of you, then robbed you clean. There’s a good chance you wouldn’t have remembered any of it. Probably still won’t remember much anyway.”
Raining Fools (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 2) Page 12