by Lisa N. Paul
“No, no, no—you chickies need to walk your asses over there and take those shots with her. Her friend just left her high and dry to play pool with her boyfriend. There’s nothing more pathetic than seeing Lyla drinking alone,” The bartender explained pouring the drinks into the martini glasses.
Rolling her eyes, the woman at the end of the bar said just loud enough to be heard over the music but not any louder, “I promise I’m not crazy…well, not overly crazy. I just need a drinking partner.”
Cate’s brows knitted together as Elliot’s giggle permeated the air. “I told you this was gonna be fun,” she squealed. “Let’s go.”
Rounding the bar slowly, Cate weaved through the patrons with ease. Where Elliot seemed to get bumped and touched, smiled at and spoken to, Cate was good at making her way through a crowd without being noticed at all. Elliot reveled in attention, while Cate repelled it. Just like an invisibility cloak, Cate practically made herself blend when out in public. She’d spent years perfecting such a skill, trying not to be seen, not to be noticed. Most of the time, she succeeded. Tonight was obviously an exception.
“Seems like it may take your friend a minute or so to join us.” Lyla nodded over to a few people who had gained Elliot’s attention. “Should we wait for her? Or let her catch up on the next round?” She must have had a deer in headlights look, because the woman—Lyla, she remembered the bartender saying—had the strangest smirk on her face as she pointed to the shot glasses in front of her. “Um, you do want to drink these, right?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. My friend Elliot tends to get caught up in...people.” God, you sound like a freak, Cate chastised herself. She spoke to people every day on the phone at the shop, but that was in a professional capacity. Socially, some would call her shy; others would say stilted; she would say uninterested.
“Sorry, peeps, I just ran into some guys I know from the gym. Ooo, our shots, yay, are we ready?” Cate glanced from Elliot’s bright and excited blue eyes to the lifted brow and sky-colored eyes on Lyla’s guarded face, two such different women both staring at her waiting for her to make the first move. Nodding, Cate reached for the shot glasses, pushing one toward Lyla, handing one to Elliot, and lifting one to her own lips.
“Stop,” Lyla bit out. Her voice was sharp, but her posture was relaxed and careless. “Ash, drop what you’re doing. Your customers can wait an extra minute. Better yet, let your fiancée pick up the slack.” Cate watched Lyla’s face soften as she spoke to the people behind the bar who were obviously her close friends.
“Yeah, Ry, pick up the slack while I have a shot with the girls,” Ashley called over her shoulder to the sexy, dark-haired stud of a man tending to the opposite end of the bar.
“Sure, no worries, Princess, and I’ll be sure to come up with a way for you to pay me back later.” Ryan winked at Ashley before returning to his customers.
With each of the four women holding shot glasses, Cate once again lifted hers to her mouth.
“Stop,” Ashley giggled. Confused, Cate turned to Elliot for understanding, but garnered no more at first than her own confusion mirrored back as they continued to watch the women banter about giving a toast and making it funny or something. Ells peered like she was watching a tennis match. However, her face was beaming with happiness, almost as if she had been waiting her whole life to meet these people, which only made Cate feel guilty.
Cate knew the reason Elliot stayed in so often was because Cate preferred the comfort of her own home. Elliot spent her life watching over Cate, protecting and guarding her. In the meantime, Elliot was missing out on adventures that would bring her deserved happiness. She owed a lot to her best friend. More than she could ever re-pay, thus in that moment, she decided she would enjoy the hell out of the evening. Elliot deserved to have a normal night with a normal best friend. Christ, it was the least she could do. She was going to let down her guard for one night. Hell, it was already eleven o’clock. How much trouble could she fall into, in a couple of hours?
“Here’s to great drinks with new friends and hot men with tight ends. Here’s to a kick ass girlies night out,” Lyla seemed to search around the bar before adding, “And an end to my sexual drought! Cheers!”
How Cate managed to swallow the vodka down without spraying it all over the three women next to her and embarrassing the hell out of herself was nothing short of miraculous. Lyla’s toast was funny as hell, and hearing all that sass coming from such a petite, little package could have been un-nerving if it wasn’t so damn entertaining.
“Ly, you never disappoint, ever.” Ashley extended her hand to Cate. “I’m needed back to work back to work before Ryan gets all huffy, but I’m Ashley, and you are…?” Even though the question was directed to both she and Elliot, it felt like Ashley’s hazel eyes were trying to peer into Cate’s instead of just staring at them. She gingerly lifted the full martini to her lips, licking the sugar from the glass, and sipped a tiny bit before answering.
“I’m Cate, Cate Lockton, and this is my friend Elliot.”
“Umm, what she meant to say was, I’m her best friend, Elliot Reed. But close friends call me Ells.” Elliot reached over the bar, shaking Ashley’s hand with enthusiasm. Yep, there she goes, another friend in her proverbial pocket. It wasn’t that Cate was jealous of Elliot’s innate friendliness and all around likeability; it was more that she wished she was normal enough to want some of those things for herself. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t. Feeling a familiar tightening in her belly, a sensation she had been trying to avoid for months, Cate picked up her cocktail and finished it off. Tonight is about Ells. One normal night: no worries, no pity, just fun.
“Well, Elliot, it appears your girl can drink. Ash, another round, please.”
“Catey, what’s gotten into you?” Elliot’s brows were pulled together, utter bewilderment etched on her pretty face.
“Tonight is about fun.” Cate stroked Elliot’s arm and sighed. “You need a boatload.” Elliot inhaled, her questionable objection was practically out of her mouth when Cate shook her head denying any and all arguments. “Close your mouth and listen. You’re always saying I need to venture out. Well, here we are. Out. Let’s enjoy the evening with our new friends. I haven’t been hungover since college, and we don’t have to work tomorrow. It’s the perfect night to let loose. I’m letting loose, Ells. Enjoy it, ‘cause who knows when it’ll happen again.”
The joy radiated from within Elliot’s round eyes that made Cate feel amazing and somewhat sad. Something as trivial as cocktails at a new place with new people gave Elliot a lot of pleasure? Wow. She really needed to do this more often, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Stuffing away the sadness for the night, she drank her next drink quickly and ordered her third.
“Catey, slow down, honey. Our night has just started.” Had the alcohol not yet entered her blood stream, she would have heard the warning in Elliot’s voice. But it had, and she didn’t.
You’re HER?
HAVING PURGED EVERYTHING he’d drank plus all the food he’d eaten that day, Kyle stared at his disarrayed image in the mirror. Feeling exactly how he looked, like hell, he splashed cool water on his face in an attempt to wash away the sallow features. Blood—she laid in a pool of her own blood. Her eyes open, staring lifelessly at nothing. The smell made him retch that night—Pushing back those memories, he popped half a roll of breath mints into his mouth to rid the smell of sickness and then staggered from the restroom at the back of Danny’s to the billiard tables. With his head starting to clear, he straddled a stool next to Janie while Max and Gage played a round of pool.
“At least let me order you something to eat. You need to soak up all that alcohol, Kyle.” Janie leveled him with her stern teacher’s glare, and he had no choice but to relent. “I’ll send the waiter back with a burger,” she said quietly to him as she kissed his cheek and sauntered over to Max.
“Babe, I’m gonna head back to the front bar. It’s girls’ night. I don’t want to miss too much
time with Ly and Ash.” Kyle shifted his gaze from Janie’s soft, sweet face over to the billiard table. Gage was leaned over to make his shot when he looked up. A dark stare met Kyle, no words were spoken, but none needed to be. The message was clear. Gage disliked Kyle, and Kyle knew it.
The long standing disapproval started more than a decade ago. Kyle didn’t know why Max’s best friend detested him back then, but he had a pretty good idea why the feelings weren’t warm and fuzzy now. Kyle couldn’t blame the man for being pissed after what he pulled with Lyla, but Lyla had forgiven him, and Gage really needed to move on as well.
That being said, while Gage only stood an inch or two taller at six feet and four inches, the man outweighed Kyle by an easy twenty-five pounds or more of pure muscle. Basically, Sebastian Gage was a machine. Kyle may be the king of poor choices and bad moves, but he was not a stupid man. If the guy wanted to hate, he could hate away. Kyle was done caring about all of it.
The clacking of the billiard balls pulled Kyle from his thoughts. His eyes darted to the table only to see Gage’s fiery glare and cocky smirk aimed at him as ball after ball landed in the pockets. “Fuck this shit. I’m outta here.” Kyle hefted himself off the stool with enough force to topple it and trip over its wooden leg. Pain surged up his thigh and through his hip like hot iron prods, knocking the wind from his lungs in one ungraceful swoop.
Instantly, Max was by his side, steadying him and righting the chair, all without the judgment Kyle had become used to seeing in his friend’s eyes as of late. What’s changed?
“Dude, I don’t want your fucking charity,” Kyle growled unable to hold back the poison spewing from his mouth.
Max’s grip on Kyle’s shoulder tightened. “Good, man, ‘cause I don’t have any to give you. I’m your friend, Kyle, not your goddamn enemy. And as your friend, I have a question for you.”
He concentrated on Max’s face, on the muscles in his jaw moving as he imagined Max trying to find the best way to phrase his words while causing the least amount of damage. Pain ebbed through his leg as he tried to shift his weight ever-so-subtly onto the other without drawing more attention to the injury. Another drink would help to numb the complete cluster-fuck the night had become. Another drink would help him forget. “I don’t have all night.”
Sighing, Max shook his head and stared directly into Kyle’s eyes. Not the look of a concerned friend, but the connection of family, of a brother. “I’ve been where you are. And I wanna know. How does it feel?”
“What the fuck, DeLucca? I don’t have a clue to what you’re talking about, and I don’t have time for Jeopardy. Either say what ya gotta say or let me leave.” That little outburst left him breathless, hollow. He knew he was pushing everyone away. He couldn’t stop it; he couldn’t even try.
He’d been here before, four months ago, the night of the accident. He tried to move forward, but he failed at that, too.
“Kyle,” Max’s voice was hard but not harsh. “How does it feel to have finally hit the bottom? Because you’re there, buddy. Feel around. There’s nowhere else to fall; nothing left to lose. Sure, you can give up your share of the bar or turn your back on us, but honestly, haven’t you already done that?” With two large hands placed on his shoulders, Kyle felt Max’s shake fizzle through his body.
“You’re on the fucking ground, man. We can’t help you anymore. And I, for one, am done trying. You’re family—a brother, here’s my brotherly advice. When you’re done rolling on the floor, you’ll know it. Call me when you’re ready to start climbing back up. I’ll be there for you, just like you were for me. I promise, I will be there.” Max clapped his shoulders and turned his attention back to the pool table, effectively dismissing him.
“I don’t know why you even bother with him, DeLucca,” Kyle heard Gage mutter as his heavy boots trudged from one side of the table to the other.
Max’s response came without hesitation. “He’s family, Sebastian. I don’t give up on family.” His words released a kernel of warmth in Kyle’s chest. The same warmth that Danny’s words, Julie’s looks, and Janie’s concern fired. The same warmth that made him feel angry and worthless, that left him cold.
Still drunk but needing more Kyle headed for the front bar. While his gut was empty, his head swam with alcohol and Max’s words. The bottom, the floor. He had finally hit the bottom. He just didn’t know if he had the strength to pull himself back up. He felt battered and broken. He’d spent his whole life bending. Conforming to everyone’s needs, he bent to be who they wanted or needed him to be. The good son, the perfect beating target, the strong big brother, the good friend, and the reliable employee, but he failed at everything. He failed everyone. He bent so far he could no longer hold himself tall. He was done. He needed to be done. He had no more fight left in his body. He was a disaster of a person and a mess of a man. He was broken and wanted to finally find peace.
Slowly walking to the front room, trying his best to hide the limp from his gait, he moved around the people hanging out with friends, chatting up conquests, and drinking away concerns. He could easily ignore them all; they were just obstacles standing in the way of his ticket to numbness. Choices, Danny’s warning echoed in his ear just as Kyle placed his hand on the mahogany. “Ry, gimme a beer.” See, beer was better than vodka. Already a better choice, his brain insisted.
Kyle leaned up against the bar, placing all of his weight on his good leg. Immediate relief comforted his sore thigh.
“Sure, but this is your last drink of the night, my man. I’m flagging you.” Before Kyle could respond, his world went dark.
“Guess, who?” The voice was high pitched and shrill. That, combined with the scent of bubble gum and menthol cigarettes, and the large fake tits that were pressed against his back told him the woman behind him could have been any of about twenty-five different chicks he banged in the past year. The other broads either favored regular smokes or abhorred cigarettes all together. Not that it mattered; he almost never kissed the chicks he nailed, and if he did, he was too fucked up to taste them and couldn’t care less if they liked his breath.
He batted the hands away from his eyes, grabbing the slender wrists of the woman to hold her still while he exhaled sharply, letting the light of the room wash over his senses. He hated the dark, hated when someone took away his sight without his permission. Hated that loss of control even for a second, especially from someone he didn’t trust, hell, someone he didn’t even like. He turned to gape at the tall blonde with the toothy grin and the barely covered tits. She was practically vibrating with excitement, and he couldn’t remember her name or, hell, even her face.
Releasing her wrists, he put some space between them. “Yeah, what do ya want?” His voice was flippant as he crossed his arms over his chest. He should have felt sorry for her when the smile fumbled from her overly made-up face. Normally, he would have turned on the charm, spewed out a few cocky lines, and changed her look from pity to putty in a matter of seconds—guaranteeing himself a blowjob in the coat-room or a quick fuck out in his car—but he wasn’t feeling it tonight. He wanted nothing to do with the trash standing before him.
“Um, I just wanted to pop over and say hi. It’s been a while, I…I heard you were in an accident.” She reached out to touch the jagged scar that ran through his left eyebrow, barely masking the shiver of sadness as her finger felt the raised tissue like he was some kind of science experiment. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could…umm, you know…do,” she stammered, clearly questioning her decision. Staring into brown eyes that held absolutely no appeal at all, Kyle reached out with his right arm and wrapped his hand once again around the waist of the nameless woman unfortunate enough to have approached him.
His left hand gently grazed her jaw line, landing her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping it up. He knew…he knew that his next words were gonna be nasty, hurtful, and downright rude, but as he stared at the woman in front of him, her face began to disappear. All he saw was an easy tar
get and an easier lay. She had been a means to an end one night when he was horny, and nothing else. She was what all women were: good for nothing more than sex and headaches. In that second, he felt his mouth open and the vile words spilled out.
“Listen, Sugar Tits, just because I fucked you once doesn’t mean I’d ever go back for more. You were an effortless, albeit a forgettable, lay, and now you’re just in my way.” The nastiness that had been forced into his head his entire childhood—words that had been beaten into him had he ever tried to forget—now slid from his tongue. Those words he’d repeated hundreds of times in his adult life, words he’d shake off. But the shamed look in the blonde’s eyes would add to the box of broken spirits he’d been collecting since he was small.
“This round is on me, since I missed the first few.” Cate took in Janie’s delicate features as she gingerly passed out the cocktails. God, what was with these women? They were all nice as could be and perfectly pretty. Just as quickly as that thought zipped through her consciousness, the knee-jerk reaction thought followed. Will being with them ensure my invisibility or shine a light directly on me? Forcing herself not to steal a glance at her surroundings, she chastised herself. Stop it, Cate. Just enjoy the evening like a normal person. With her self-consciousness squashed back down, Cate sipped her martini, using the liquor as the cement that would firmly place the negative thoughts in the basement of her mind, locked away where they wouldn’t threaten to come free again that evening.
“Uh oh. It’s show time.” Ashley made her way over to the women with a shot glass in hand.
“What do you mean ‘show time’?” Elliot asked, searching around the crowded space. “I love shows.” Cate sipped her drink and smiled. Sometimes her friend’s innocence was still quite sweet.
“Well, sit back and watch, because these are usually as entertaining as they are demeaning,” Janie explained. “I used to feel really bad for those girls because he treats them like shit afterwards, but I don’t anymore.” Shrugging her shoulders, she continued, “I love Kyle. I do, but he’s a pig, and he doesn’t attempt to hide it. He’s only out for one night stands. That’s it. He doesn’t even ask the girls for their names anymore—and if they offer one, he just forgets it and calls them some degrading term he comes up with on the spot. His reputation precedes him, at this point I’ve stopped placing all of the blame on him. You know? It takes two to tango and all those other clichés.”