“Perfect,” I grimaced.
We went inside.
It was dark. The lights hanging over the pool tables and the soft glow behind the bar were the only illumination. We grabbed barstools.
“What’ll it be?” a middle-aged bartender asked, all business. He had silver hair fluffed back in an old-school style and a silver goatee.
I turned to Jake. “I’ve already had a bunch of beers. What’s that shit people say?” I grumbled, “Beer before liquor, never sicker. Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear?”
“That’s how I remember it,” Jake said.
“Fuck the rules,” I said to the bartender.
The bartender snorted.
“You got any Wild Turkey?” I asked.
The bartender nodded.
“You want one, Jake?” I asked.
“Whatever he’s having,” Jake said to the bartender.
“Two shots of Wild Turkey,” I said to the bartender.
“Is that two and two,” the bartender pointed two fingers at me, then at Jake, “or just two total?”
“That makes six,” I grinned, amused with myself. “Three each.”
The bartender smirked. “Let me know when you need the bucket below the bar,” he said before walking off.
“Dude,” Jake said sarcastically, “You sure you don’t want to order a few more shots before he runs off?”
I smirked at Jake and shook my head, ignoring his comment. “So, how’s Madison?”
“She’s awesome. She’s some kind of business genius, man. Once I told her about starting a clothing line, she jumped all over it. She handed me a business plan two weeks later.”
The bartender brought over a tray with six full shot-glasses and set the tray in front of us. “Bottom’s up, boys,” he nodded, then walked off to help another customer a few seats down.
Jake and I each raised a shot glass, clinked, and pounded.
Did I think about the fact that my dad first started drinking when the pressure of painting for a bunch of demanding rich fucks started getting to him? No. Did I think about the fact that I was probably going to be in jail inside of ten days? Fuck no. I just drank my drink. I didn’t want to think about any of it.
“Good shit,” Jake said.
“The best,” I said. “When are you and Madison getting married?”
Jake laughed. “Whenever she says yes.”
“You ask her already?”
“No, but damn, she’s great, man. I can’t imagine a tighter girlfriend.”
“She’s tight all right,” I said. “And she’s a good person, I can tell. Hold on to that shit, man.” I raised a fresh shot glass to Jake. “To you and Madison.”
He raised his own and we clinked. “To me and Mads,” he said.
We pounded.
“Sam’s pretty damn awesome herself,” Jake said. “Gimme a minute, and we’ll raise that last shot to her.”
“You pussing out on me, bro?” I jabbed.
“No, just wanna keep the drinks in my stomach and not put them in that guy’s bucket,” he smiled. “They’re costing you good money.”
“Me? I’m fucking paying?”
“When you order six fucking shots for the first round, you are,” he smirked
“Totally,” I smiled back.
“Dude, not to be a bitch,” Jake said cautiously, “but I haven’t seen you drink like this for a long time. It’s the trial, isn’t it?”
I sighed heavily. “Yeah.”
“Is your lawyer having any luck?”
“Man, I’m spending a fuck-load on Merriweather. He’s got the best people all over that shit. But it isn’t getting me anywhere.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Roll the dice.”
“You mean go to trial?”
“Fuck yeah. I’d rather take a risk than sign up for nine to twelve months down at Thunderdome.”
“What’s Thunderdome?”
“That’s what they call the jail down past Otay. Where I’d be going. And that’s not even the prison, which is worse. I could end up there if I’m found guilty for everything.”
Jake was silent.
I didn’t blame him. “At least I’m out on bail instead of sitting in that hole awaiting trial.” I picked up the third shot. “Here’s to fucking making bail,” I said sourly.
Jake picked up his shot but rested his hand on my forearm. “No, we don’t drink to that shit, man. Like I said earlier, we drink to you and Samantha. To good shit.”
I looked him in the eyes. He was right. I needed to crawl out of the cesspool in my head. “To Samantha.”
“To you and Samantha,” Jake said, clinking his shot glass against mine.
“To me and Samantha.” I threw my shot back.
SAMANTHA
I set my Sociology reading down and rubbed my eyes. They were crossing from staring at the page all evening. How long had I been reading and re-reading the same paragraph? I had no idea, but I did know I hadn’t the foggiest idea what the paragraph said.
All I could think about was calling Christos. I was worried about him. He had seemed off. I didn’t know what it was, but for the last two days, he’d taken a sudden, dark turn.
When he’d come over last night, after my blowout call with my parents, he’d smelled like alcohol.
I knew that smell.
I used to smell like that, back in high school.
Emo. Goth. Suicide Watch…
Christos was hiding something. But what?
Another woman? That stupid Isabella? I’d claw the bitches eyes out.
Bitch. Slut. Whore…
But I didn’t think that was it. In truth, I had no idea what it could be. I’d believed that telling Christos I wanted to move in with him was going to magically fix all my problems. I guess I never considered his problems. But what problems did he actually have? None that I knew of.
Unless…
Did it have something to do with me moving in?
Oh, no. Was my mom right?
Had I somehow scared Christos off, now that I’d agreed to live with him? It couldn’t be. He’d seemed so excited the night I’d told him. So what was wrong? Was it possible he was having second thoughts? I wasn’t sure, but I knew he was pulling away.
Oh, God, please no.
Maybe I’d been stupid to think Christos was so perfect. He was human, after all. He had to have some flaws somewhere.
Whatever they were, I would love him and accept him. If he would only tell me. The not knowing was driving my crazy.
I jumped up from my couch and grabbed my phone. My finger hovered over the speed dial for Christos.
I was going to call him again and ask him to come over right away. I desperately wanted to sort things out with him.
But he was out with Jake.
Groan! I suddenly felt guilty at the thought of calling. I knew Christos needed a break. He’d been working hard on new paintings ever since New Year's Eve. He never took any breaks, other than when he was with me, and that wasn’t nearly often enough, considering how busy I was with my jobs and classes.
Maybe he just needed space. For tonight.
I reluctantly set my phone down on the coffee table and went to my kitchen.
I’d been a good girl lately. I’d barely touched my ice cream in weeks. I pulled a pint of Double Dark Chocolate Devil’s Delight out of my freezer, grabbed a spoon, then went back to my couch.
Ice Cream always helped me study. That’s the only reason I was going to eat any. Because Sociology 2 deserved no less.
I would not let Sociology 2 down at any cost.
I swear, my worries about Christos had nothing to do with my sudden urge for an ice cream splurge.
I wondered if perhaps the red cartoon devil printed on the side of the ice cream carton would be waiting for me at the bottom of the tub when I reached it.
Nope, just cardboard.
CHRISTOS
Jake and I stumbled out of the bar a couple ho
urs later. I’d lost count of how much I’d had to drink after the beers at Dick’s and those shots of Wild Turkey.
Whatever.
We cruised the streets, trying to sober up.
Neither one of us was in any shape to drive.
“Maybe you should call Sam,” Jake belched.
“Naw, we’ll be fine in a while.” I didn’t want to tell him that I felt like a dipshit for getting so loaded, and I didn’t want Samantha to see me like this.
“I can call Mads,” Jake said.
“We’ll be fine, just give it some time. There’s an all-night coffee shop around here somewhere. We can sit in it and suck back espressos until the booze bleeds out.” At this rate it was going to be sunrise before I saw Samantha.
We strolled through the thinning crowds on the sidewalk in the Gaslamp.
As we turned onto Fourth Street, we passed by Horton Plaza. “I fucking love that place, man,” I slurred. “It’s like the Disneyland of fucking shopping malls.”
Jake snickered. “Dude, you’re fucking wasted.”
“I’m fucking wasted,” I smiled.
We continued down Fourth until we hit the Hooters on the corner of Market Street.
We paused.
I cocked a thumb toward the Hooters. “Wanna get some more drinks?”
“And have a bunch of PG-13 strippers wearing those road-crew orange shorts hit on us all night? That shit is comedy, but I’m all good,” Jake smiled. “Hey, didn’t you used to bang one of the waitresses who worked here?”
“Probably,” I sputtered, meaning it.
Jake cackled, knowing I was telling the truth.
Jake and I both turned as the doors to Hooters opened and a group of rowdy guys poured onto the sidewalk. They were laughing and shouting and making a bunch of noise.
One of them was that guy Hunter Fucking Blakeley. He had his arms around two bar babes. They were clearly into him. He was clearly into them. Both bar babes looked toasted. Both were pretty damn hot in their tight skirts and tops. Neither were in Samantha’s league, but both were hot enough for a magazine cover.
They were gazing up at Hunter like he was Brad Fucking Pitt or some shit.
I could fix that.
I stood my ground as Hunter’s buddies parted around me and Jake like we were our own fucking continent, and they had no choice but to flow elsewhere.
I made sure to stare Hunter right in the eyes.
It didn’t take long.
“I know you,” Hunter said. “Where do I know you from?”
“From my girlfriend,” I growled.
He stopped. “Oh yeah! You’re Sam’s man. You were too pussy to fight me the other day.”
He could spin that shit however he wanted. But that wasn’t my point. I was strategizing.
It took about three seconds for his two honeys to turn their greedy eyes on my shit.
“Is this your friend?” the brunette asked Hunter.
Hunter had some game. “Yeah, sure,” he said confidently. He wasn’t ruffled yet.
Yet.
“What’s his name?” the blonde asked.
Hunter didn’t seem inclined to answer.
Both of the girls were drooling at me openly.
Despite the chill air, I wore a short-sleeve black V-neck. My tatted arms were cocked and loaded. I twitched both arms, making the muscles pop and stand out like hard-chiseled granite, all striated and rugged.
“Mmmm,” the blonde said. She literally released her grip on Hunter and stepped up to me. She slid her hand down my chest and abs. “I like,” she purred.
I was used to this shit. When I turned it on, like now, chicks went fucking nuts.
“What’s your name, honey?” she asked.
“Adonis,” I said. Fuck yeah, Adonis.
“Sounds like a hero’s name or something,” she said.
Fuck yeah, it did. “What’s your name?” I asked her.
“MacKenzie,” the blonde murmured. “Check him out, Kylie,” she said to her friend. “He’s yummy,” she purred.
Kylie the brunette was now gaping at me.
I cocked my dimpled grin at her.
As if hypnotized, her hands relaxed from touching Hunter and drifted slowly to her sides. She leaned away from him like she was hypnotized and floated toward me on her heels. She grabbed my belt with one hand and slid her other into my front pocket.
“Oh my god,” she whispered, her fingers gliding across my dick through the material.
The thing was, this shit only worked when you did it for real. I was hard as a fucking rock.
“He’s huge, MacKenzie,” Kylie said to her friend, sounding astonished, like she’d just met God.
Hunter glared at me.
His buddies circled around me and Jake. There were three of them. Four on two. Jake could fight. We were going to be fine.
I could feel the tension on the street corner.
MacKenzie and Kylie hung off me like they were my harem.
The second I’d seen Hunter walk out the door of the Hooters, I’d wanted to kick his ass. But this was better.
“You guys ready to go?” Hunter asked the two girls who were humping my legs.
They looked at him like he was a ghost or maybe a gust of wind.
One of them broke into a stripper laugh. That was all either of them had to say on the subject of going anywhere with Hunter and his boys.
“Shall we?” I said to the girls. I nodded toward Jake. He opened the door.
I walked inside Hooters with MacKenzie and Kylie on my arms. Jake followed.
Hunter and his buddies were left out in the cold.
It was winter, after all.
Chapter 25
SAMANTHA
I was totally disgusted with myself for downing the entire pint of ice cream, I couldn’t even begin to think about calling Christos to come over. I imagined burping up the taste of ice cream in his face while asking him if something was wrong.
It didn’t seem like the right tone.
I went for a jog instead. Slowly, at first, until I was certain I wouldn’t puke, then settling into a normal pace until I’d run four miles.
I came back to my apartment, hoping there would be a message from Christos telling me he was on his way over. Nope, he still hadn’t called.
I took a shower and got ready for bed.
I considered driving to his house and surprising him by waiting in his bed. As much as I liked the idea, I felt like I should at least call first. I didn’t know the number to the Manos house, or Spiridon’s cell phone number, or if he even had one. I didn’t want to just show up unannounced. Although I suspected Spiridon probably wouldn’t care if I did, it still seemed rude.
I laid down on my bed with damp hair. My phone lay on the night table beside me, the ringer set to low, in case Christos tried to call. I did my best to keep my eyes open while willing my phone to ring.
Ring, damn it!
It didn’t work.
I woke up in the morning to an empty bed.
CHRISTOS
Inside Hooters, Jake and I had to buy drinks for MacKenzie and Kylie. We would’ve looked like dicks if we hadn’t.
Me and Jake drank colas. It was as good as coffee, I guess. And we both drank plenty of water on the side. Didn’t need a hangover tomorrow.
It turned out that MacKenzie and Kylie were not really drunk. I kept an eye on what they drank, and noticed neither did much more than sip. They were kind of fun to talk to. Both went to USD, over in Morena, just east of Mission Bay. They were law students, and they were pretty fucking sharp. Me and Jake couldn’t believe it. Not that they were smart, but that they were so good at pretending to be stupid drunk chicks, because it was a total act.
When it was last call at Hooters, I hit the Men’s room and drained for what seemed like an hour. At least I was down to a light buzz. I could probably drive.
Me and Jake walked the girls to their car, like gentlemen.
“You guys okay to drive?�
� I asked.
Kylie held up keys to her Audi and jangled them. “I’m as sober as a judge,” she joked.
“Then you better not drive,” I smiled.
“Touché,” she smiled. “I’m fine.”
“Since you’re law students,” Jake said, “You can represent yourselves in court if you get DUIs.”
“You guys could drive us home. In your car,” MacKenzie said.
“Sorry ladies,” I said. “Me and Jake are sworn to our girlfriends. We may as well be married.”
“He’s right,” Jake smiled.
MacKenzie shook her head. “You guys are two of the good ones,” she sighed.
“Damn right,” I smiled my cocky grin.
“If either one of you men ever ends up single, look us up,” Kylie said.
“Yeah,” MacKenzie blurted to Kylie, “I think either of them would be more than enough for the both of us.”
Jake chuckled.
“Will do,” I grinned. “But don’t wait around. Go find some eligible bachelors. I’m sure there’s some around San Diego somewhere.”
They waved after climbing into their Audi, then drove off.
Me and Jake turned around on the dark city sidewalk and headed back to my Camaro. At the end of the block we ran right into Hunter and his boys.
“Fuck, Hunter,” I smiled casually, “how long have you been waiting for us?” I laughed. “We were in Hooters for three hours. You must want a beating real bad.”
Hunter ground his jaw and curled his lips over his teeth.
“Dude,” Jake said calmly, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I knew what Jake was thinking. My trial. Me out on bail. If there was the slightest chance of cops driving by, or Hunter crawling to the cops after getting his ass beat, I was in for a good reaming. Bail revoked. Sitting in jail until trial. The new charges I would get for pounding Hunter would be further evidence used against me in my pending trial.
Jake had a point.
“I knew you were a pussy,” Hunter sneered.
I smirked at him. “I thought I taught you a lesson the other day, Hunter.” The question was, did I need to give him the graduate course on why he should not fuck with me? And would I stop myself before I murdered him? Fuck it. He deserved a full-ride scholarship. I was tired of his shit. “I’ll give you a free swing. Go for it, Hunter.”
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