“Wow. What happened? I mean, why did he dump you?”
“Motherfucker.” I laughed as I said this and tossed a tomato slice at Terry. “For your information I dumped him.”
The look on his face said how truly baffled he was by my admission. “No shit? How come?”
He was killing me. But I took another sip of beer and a deep breath and told my friend the truth. “Because he was going to live forever … and I wasn’t.”
“Damn, that’s deep. Why not just enjoy the ride while it lasted?” Terry took another look at me and must have seen that I couldn’t answer. The emotions were still too raw, even after all this time. “You loved him, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“B-but, he could have turned you or something.”
“No, he couldn’t. It’s part of his contract. He’s not allowed to turn others.”
We stood there in silence for a few minutes. Terry took a beer out of the fridge too and downed it in a couple of big gulps.
“Dawn, you and me, we’ve known each other since we were kids. How come you never told me about this?”
“Because it’s painful you dumbass,” Jamie said. She slapped Terry on the arm as she pushed past him and made her way toward me.
“I’m really sorry. When I heard a rumor that you two had dated—” He shrugged. “Hell, I just figured you hooked up one night or something. I had no idea you had feelings for the guy. That’s gotta suck.”
I laughed at the pun he didn’t realize he’d made.
“I won’t say anything,” he said very seriously. “If George asks about it later, I’ll say I made a mistake.”
I walked over and hugged him, the top of my head just barely reached his chest. “Thanks, Terry.”
“How long ago was this, anyway?”
“Seven years ago.”
“Seven years and you never said anything?”
He seemed hurt and I didn’t want that. Terry was like family to me.
“You were going through a divorce at the time. You had enough to deal with. By the time you got things straightened out it just never seemed like the right time to bring it up.”
He nodded. “I understand. Your secret is safe with me.”
I laughed softly. “It’s really not a secret, Terry. It’s just something I’d rather keep to myself.”
“Come on,” Jamie said, putting her arm around me. “I’ll follow you home.”
“You mean the fight is over? Did Nightmare win?” Terry asked.
“Of course he won.”
If it weren’t for his prosthetic leg, I think Terry might have danced a jig. “Holy shit. I just won five thousand dollars!”
Jamie laughed. “You said you quit gambling.”
“Don’t nag me, woman.” This was a common joke/argument with them. Terry turned to me then. “If you ever see him again, tell him thanks. I always win when I bet on Nightmare.”
By the time we walked back out front our two waitresses, Angie and Rachel, had the place mostly clean. There were still a few other people hanging around, talking about the fight. But, Our Place was officially closed for the night. George and a few other regulars were finishing their drinks before they left. Nightmare’s music was still playing and when I looked at the screen I got one last glimpse of him before he disappeared behind the heavy black curtain.
“Where the fuck is Earl?” Terry asked.
Earl is our dishwasher and he and Terry almost never get along. I could see him in the far corner of the room stacking up plates. His long blond ponytail was pulled back tightly and as usual he looked damn good in the jeans he was wearing.
“I’m out here collecting dishes. What did you think?” Earl shot back.
“You might as well be jerking off for all the help you’ve been tonight.”
“Terry,” Jamie scolded. “There are still other people here.”
“Fuck you,” Earl yelled.
“No, fuck you!”
She sighed. “Like I said, other people still here.”
It was no use. Those two just did not get along. But they did both work hard, despite what Terry might say about Earl or what Earl might say about Terry. Once the rest of the cleaning was finished and everyone else had gone, Jamie and I left Terry to lock up.
When Jamie offered to follow me home that normally meant she had a bottle of whiskey in her car and didn’t want to drink alone. That was fine with me. It had been a while since we had shared a drink together and I didn’t want to be alone either.
As soon as we stepped outside I was drenched. George hadn’t been kidding about that rain. Sure, I had an umbrella with me. In the car.
“I needed a bath anyway,” Jamie yelled above the downpour.
The drive home nearly put me to sleep. There is nothing quite like the gentle patter of rain when it comes to relaxing sounds. At least, that’s my opinion. The rain had gotten so heavy that I could barely see my mailbox at the end of the driveway. If I hadn’t been living there for a while now, I probably would have missed the turn.
Jamie had lived with me for years because the rent was cheap and easier to split between two people. The rent was so cheap because the old house was practically falling down. Well, it had been before I bought it from our landlady. I used the majority of my winnings to fix the place up while Jamie chose to buy a smaller house across town. It wasn’t that she didn’t like living with me, she was afraid of ghosts.
Since the house was built in the early 1900’s she was convinced that it was haunted. Every time the floor creaked or the roof settled a little bit she thought the dead were watching her. Needless to say, she bought a brand new house. She didn’t think it was possible for new places to have ghosts.
Honestly, I didn’t think my old house had anything in it besides a little bit of dust because I’d been too busy to give it a good cleaning lately. I had been in love with the house ever since I laid eyes on it, even when it was in complete disrepair. I’m not sure what architectural style you’d call it, but it is a two-story with three baths and four bedrooms. And thanks to me it now had a fresh coat of white paint and new green shutters.
Home looked particularly inviting on this drizzly night and I couldn’t wait to get inside. As I suspected, Jamie dashed through the rain carrying a brand new bottle of whiskey. Once we were inside we both kicked off our boots beside the door. I tossed my cowboy hat across the back of the sofa on my way through to the kitchen while Jamie hung hers on a coat rack.
The night was warm and I had no real desire to change out of my wet clothes just yet. Actually, it was kind of refreshing. It was only May the second and already I dreaded summer. Jamie sat at the kitchen table while I got out a couple of shot glasses and some beers.
She slammed back the first shot and made a face. “I’ve got to tell you something,” she said.
“Well, that sounds ominous.” I reached for the bottle and tried not to be uneasy. I hate it when people say things like, “I need to tell you something.”
“It’s not about either of us,” she added, taking a sip of beer.
“Then spill it, you’re making me nervous.”
“Fine. You remember Amanda? Used to work in a salon downtown? I think she went to school with you too, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, I remember Mandy. She moved several years ago. To Texas I think.”
Jamie downed another shot. “She’s back to visit family and friends. I saw her in town yesterday and she wants to have lunch with both of us tomorrow.”
I shrugged. “Well, that sounds like fun. What’s the problem?”
“She’s pregnant.”
That was fine by me, but I could tell it bothered Jamie. “I don’t understand,” I said softly.
“It’s just another reminder that I’m getting older, I can’t find a decent man and I’ll probably never have any children.”
At this point she started to cry and put her head on the table. I reached over and put my arm around her. This wasn’t the first time we’
d had this discussion either. It wasn’t something we sat around and talked about all the time. However, for someone who once made a living based on her looks, getting older weighed heavily on Jamie’s mind.
“I understand. Turning thirty last month was hard. It brought home the fact that I am no longer twenty-something … and I’m alone. I don’t know of a way to be with the only man I’ve ever loved and I can’t stop comparing everyone I date to him.” I sighed and Jamie lifted up to put her head on my shoulder. “I don’t think I’m old and I don’t think you’re old. I just think it’s time I made a decision of some sort. Maybe you should do the same.”
She sniffed and went back to pouring another shot. “What kind of a decision are you trying to make?”
“I’ve got to find someone who can make me forget Marcus and make a life with them.”
“Or?” she prompted.
I reached for the bottle and poured myself another shot. “I’m not ready for that part yet.”
“Do you want kids?” she asked.
It just occurred to me that in the nine years we had known each other I had never answered that question. I was well acquainted with what Jamie wanted out of life, but she’d never asked if I wanted kids before and I never felt the need to discuss it. Maybe that was because I wasn’t sure.
I shrugged. “I thought I did. At one time I wanted it all, nice house, sexy husband, a dog, and a couple of kids.”
“We’ve got that one stray cat that keeps hanging around the bar,” she teased.
“You’re an ass.” I laughed at her words, but still confessed, “That was part of the reason I decided to break things off with Marcus. The undead cannot create life. I thought that life – kids and the whole lot – was what I wanted.”
She took a minute, seemingly to digest what I’d just said. “And what do you want now?”
I reached over and took the whiskey bottle from her again. “The hell if I know.”
Jamie laughed. “Yeah, turning thirty will do that to you.”
“Shut up. Thirty is not old.”
“Of course not. It’s just like you said, time to figure out what I’m doing.”
That wasn’t exactly what I said, but it was close enough.
“You know, I never asked this before because I knew it was a painful subject.” She paused. “But what is it about Marcus that you can’t seem to get over? I mean, it’s been seven years, Dawn. Seven years that I know you’ve slept with other men because I’ve met some of them. Did they just not do it for you? Were their dicks not big enough? What?”
I laughed a little, but still answered, “You’re right, it is a painful subject.”
“Does that mean you aren’t going to answer me?”
“It means I’m not drunk enough yet. Find us some music to listen to and hand me that bottle. It’s been a long time since I got drunk and it’s been even longer since I talked about Marcus. If you want to hear how I feel, stick around.”
An hour and a half pint of whiskey later, we got back to the subject. My hair was almost dry and I thought about going upstairs and braiding it. But, the look from Jamie said she was ready for an answer.
“Are you drunk enough to talk about Marcus yet, because I’m drunk enough to hear it? Much more of this,” she said, pointing at the whiskey,” and I’ll end up asleep on your couch.”
I sighed. “Sure, why not?”
Jamie propped against the kitchen counter where I was standing and took my hand.
“I understand why it’s hard, you know. If it didn’t matter, then you’d talk about it all the time.”
She was right. Jamie knew Marcus and I dated. And she knew when we stopped seeing each other. What she didn’t know was how serious things had been. To be quite honest, I’d tried to hide it, even from her. If I talked about our relationship it seemed to make the loss more real. But if I kept it to myself, then no one knew I had lost anything. At least, that made sense to me.
But, talking to Jamie wasn’t like telling some random person. I trusted her and it was time I spilled it all to somebody. As a matter of fact, she was the reason Marcus and I met in the first place.
Chapter Three
When Jamie and I first moved in together she figured out in a hurry that I was a huge P.F.C. fan. I never missed a fight. Once I forced her to watch a few shows with me, she started to get into it too. For my twenty-third birthday not only did she get us into the show, she got us a job working the ticket booth. It was better than just watching the show because you got to meet some of the talent. (I learned from Marcus that that’s what people in the business called the fighters.)
She also knew of my huge crush on Nightmare a.k.a. Marcus, because by this time she had noticed how much I drooled every time I watched him. I started watching P.F.C. fights when I was a kid. Actually, the company started doing shows when I was three years old. By the time I was four, they had already recruited the best professional wrestler in the game, Marcus, who was even then known as Nightmare.
Sometime around the age of sixteen I developed a taste for tall, dark, and sexy. Most people were intimidated by the fact that he was six-foot-seven and heavily muscled. But I’m not most people. Everything about him turns me on. Besides, he’s a really nice guy. Of course, no one outside of the business knows that except for a handful of people. Even if things didn’t work out between us, I felt fortunate to know the real him.
But back to my point. Thanks to Jamie, I got to meet Nightmare. Actually, that part was kind of an accident. The show was almost over and I was trying to find the bathroom. I have a horrible sense of direction to begin with and the crowd that was already gathering in some of the hallways didn’t help. I got lost in the arena and when I turned a corner too fast, ran right smack into him. My head bounced off his bare stomach and I would have fallen if he hadn’t caught me.
When I realized whose body I was pressed against my heart fluttered so hard that I felt faint.
“Excuse me,” I said breathlessly.
He smiled down at me and I knew I was lost. He had green eyes like no one else and a thin goatee that surrounded his mouth, adding to the sensual appeal of his lips.
“You all right there darlin’?”
He had the sexiest voice I had ever heard. It was deep and rough. And the way he spoke was slow, sultry and … southern? I’d never noticed his accent before because Nightmare only ever uttered a few words on camera. Mostly they were threats to other fighters.
“I think I’m um …” I could feel my face burning. I wanted to lose myself inside the robe he was wearing. Here I was finally getting to meet the man I had lusted after for so long and I could barely speak. I laughed and his smile widened. “I think I’m blushing.”
He took a step back, but didn’t release me. His eyes sparkled and my stomach did a little flip-flop. “So, you are. Anything I can do?”
I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. “No, it’s everything you’ve already done.”
He raised a brow. The effect was striking.
“My name is Dawn. I worked the ticket booth tonight and I’m a fan of yours. Have been for a long time.”
I stuck out my hand for him to shake. When he kissed it instead I almost peed in my pants.
“I had no idea my fans were so attractive.”
My laughter sounded nervous, even to my own ears.
He leaned forward and put his arm around me, taking me underneath the robe and against his side. I couldn’t believe this was really happening.
“Tell me, what brings you back here?”
I wanted to ask him the same thing. I couldn’t have wandered into the backstage area because that was guarded by security. So, what was he doing wherever the hell I was? And where did everyone else go?
“I’m lost actually. I was trying to find the restroom.”
“It’s this way,” he said, continuing to lead me down the hall.
As we walked I kept stealing glances up at him. In reality, he was only a few inches taller than Ter
ry, but it seemed like much more. Maybe it was because he stood up straighter? Or maybe he was just so much larger than life to me.
“The bathrooms here are really terrible,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“The bathrooms, they’re not that great.”
I wanted to laugh. How did I end up discussing public bathrooms with my favorite wrestler? “Either way, that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got to go.”
“How about I let you use the one in my dressing room?”
There went my heart, fluttering like a trapped butterfly again. “All right.”
“That is of course, if you’ll go out with me tomorrow night?”
I crossed my arms and paused to look up at him. “Would you really make me use the other one if I said no?”
He laughed and the sound poured over me like liquid velvet. Was that part of his vampire powers or just his natural sexy way? I never got around to asking him.
“Of course not.”
He led me to the opposite side of the arena and right past security. My heart was working overtime. Here I was tucked underneath the arm of a superstar like Nightmare and being walked through the backstage area like it was perfectly normal. Maybe it was. Maybe he took women back here all the time. But even as the thought crossed my mind I saw the way some of the staff looked at me and decided that wasn’t so. Whatever this gesture was, it was not normal for Nightmare.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a seven-foot werewolf approaching and almost didn’t need the bathroom anymore. Without realizing what I was doing I moved closer and hid myself underneath Nightmare’s heavy black robe. About that time the werewolf slapped Nightmare on the shoulder.
“You knocked out my back teeth,” he growled.
Nightmare winced, showing a little bit of fang in the process. Why was that so sexy to me?
“Sorry about that.”
It took me a second or two to get past his bloody mouth and realize that the werewolf was smiling and not bearing his teeth.
“It will take me a week to grow that shit back,” he complained.
“I guess this means you don’t want to go out for steak tonight?” Nightmare asked.
Till the Break of Dawn Page 2