by Michelle Amy
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A Bad Boy Romance: Part One
Michelle Amy
Copyright © 2017 by Michelle Amy, All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please refer all pertinent questions to the publisher.
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Table of Contents
1 CHAPTER ONE
2 CHAPTER TWO
3 CHAPTER THREE
4 CHAPTER FOUR
5 CHAPTER FIVE
6 CHAPTER SIX
7 CHAPTER SEVEN
8 CHAPTER EIGHT
9 CHAPTER NINE
10 CHAPTER TEN
11 CHAPTER ELEVEN
12 CHAPTER TWELVE
13 CHAPTER THIRTEEN
14 CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
I knew it was time to leave when Carly toppled over on her barstool and landed on the ground like a crumpled pretzel. I squeezed by the two guys at the bar who were helping her to her feet and hooked an arm in hers. I turned to the guys and gave them my best smile.
“I’ve got her from here, boys, thank you!”
They exchanged a glance and looked back at me. I wasn’t sure if they were deciding to protest, or if they were assessing whether or not I was sober enough to get her home safely. I prayed it was the latter.
When they gave me a curt nod and moved aside I thanked them again. I braced Carly’s weight on my right hip and wrapped her arm over my shoulder. As we wove through the bar we received a couple cat calls and some sympathetic glances from other girls sitting at tables. We’ve all had a night like Carly was having. Girls with low tolerances for hard alcohol and an uncanny ability to get in one last shot of tequila before close.
We stumbled out of the pub and out on to the sidewalk. Carly was giggling like a fool on my hip.
“You are the best,” she said, her voice slurring. “Like really, Veronica, the best.”
“Yeah, you’ll change your mind in the morning when I’m grinding coffee.”
“No I won’t, I love coffee. Will you make me coffee?”
“Of course.”
She resorted to humming under her breath as we crossed the street and hooked a right, heading for my apartment. It was just past midnight and the streets were starting to slow down to a lazy pace. The occasional car drove by and we walked by a couple out for a late night stroll with their dog.
As we headed further up the block and took a left, the lazy buzz of the busier street faded away to the quietness of my neighborhood. I listened to the hum of the street lights that flickered like unreliable fireflies above. The houses that lined the streets we duplicate three story narrow homes; all were painted in pale pastel colours that looked muted and old in the night.
As we came around the final bend and began to walk down the sidewalk of my street, the sound of voices fell upon my ears. There was a black sedan parked across the street. There was a man leaning on the hood with his arms folded. He wore an oversized sweatshirt that fell nearly halfway to his knees. There were three other men with him. Two were rough housing. At first I thought they were fighting, but when I heard their laughter my anxiety lessened. They shoved each other back and forth while the man leaning against the hood egged them on.
The last man stood separated from the others. He was lighting a cigarette and had an arm draped over the wooden fence of the front yard of the house they were in front of. The amber glow from his cigarette and lighter illuminated his face for the briefest moment, and I was certain that his eyes were watching Carly and me.
Carly mumbled that she felt like she was going to be sick.
“Now is not the time,” I said, “keep it together. We’re almost home.”
My plea went unanswered. She pitched forward onto the lawn of the house we were passing and puked her guts out on her hands and knees.
I crouched beside her and put my hand on her back. I cast an uneasy glance behind us at the four men. We had all of their attention now. “I’m not trying to freak you out, Car, but we need to get out of here.”
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at me over her shoulder. “I… I take it back, you’re not the best. I don’t want to walk anymore, just… just let me die here.”
Her drunken stupor had left her witless. I bit the inside of my cheek as she hurled again. Across the street, the men were huddled together and talking and pointing at us.
Worry bloomed within me and I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. My hand on Carly’s back began nervously tapping her, to which she responded with an angry mumble and a clumsy swatting of my hand.
The men stepped off the curb and started across the street. The one at the back tossed his cigarette on the road and put it out with his boot. I watched them come, hopelessly trapped by those damn tequila shots.
They hopped up on to the sidewalk behind us. The largest one, the one who had been leaning on the hood of the sedan, came and stood beside us on the grass. “Your friend isn’t looking too good.” His voice held the drawl of ignorant confidence.
“I hadn’t noticed,” I quipped back.
He laughed and the others joined him. The worry that had built up in me was morphing into something more real: fear. I didn’t like this. Carly’s back heaved beneath my hand as she was sick again. A whimper escaped her lips as she sulked in her own misery, completely unaware of the threat that loomed over us.
“We don’t need any help,” I said, my voice loud enough for all of them to hear me. “You can go.”
The one who had spoken before splayed his fingers out wide to feign innocence. “Oh, calm down now girlie, nobody’s doing nothing wrong here. Don’t get your panties in a wad about it.” He elbowed the guy standing beside her and pointed his chin at me. “Pretty, ain’t she?”
I regretted the low cut top with cut outs in the shoulders. I regretted the red lipstick and the strappy heels that showed off my pink toenails. I shrank away from him. Carly looked up at me and followed my gaze over her shoulder and to the men.
She twisted all the way around and sank down on the grass. Her hand grabbed my wrist.
“You’re not bad either,” the man said, and the others chuckled some more. He crouched down in front of us and his hooded eyes lingered on me. “I must confess, you are exactly my type.” He rested his chin in one hand and licked his lip.
“If you come any closer to me I’ll scream,” I said, ignoring Carly’s tightening grip on my wrist.
He laughed again, apparently not rattled at all by my threat. “Definitely my type. You want to go for a ride in the car? We’ve got heated seats and some drinks in there. You could do a bump. What do you say?”
I shook my head. No words came to mind that would suffice to explain exactly how much I didn’t want to get in the car with them.
“What about your friend? Want to have a good time, sweetheart? We’re nice guys, I swear. We’ll just go a little ride. Get you feeling a bit better. What do you say?”
Carly was too paralyzed to offer an answer of his own. This only encouraged him. He moved forward and put one hand on my ankle. He traced his finger up the seam of my jeans and then tightened his grip on my
knee. “I like a girl who has a bit of fire, but I don’t like a girl who doesn’t do what she’s told. Get in the car.” His snarl made me recoil.
He reached out to grab my wrist, but one of the men behind spoke up.
“Come on, man, let’s just leave them. The blonde is covered in vomit anyway.”
The man in the oversized sweater paused midway to me and looked back at the one who spoke. It was the one who had been smoking. He stood behind and slightly to the side, like he wasn’t really a part of what was transpiring. Both hands were tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his thumbs peaking out.
The one who reached for me stood and faced the other man. “Didn’t Lucas tell you we are very good sharers?”
The smoker shrugged his shoulders and I heard the leather of his jacket creak. “I’m not one for sharing, personally. I’m also not big on blacked out chicks. So let’s keep it moving.”
“Blacked out?” The man held his arms out wide and his sweater grew in size. “McCoy, who said anything about being blacked out?”
The one called McCoy shrugged again and turned away, stepping down off the curb of the sidewalk. “That’s what it looks like to me.”
This comment didn’t seem to sit well with the others. It ruffled their feathers. Their attention was no longer on me and Carly, but on McCoy, who had now turned his back on them and was making his way slowly across the street and back to the car. He paused, lit another cigarette, and looked back at all of us. “Are you all just going to stand there with your dicks in your hands?”
Apparently the answer was no. The two who hadn’t said a word the whole time followed McCoy out on to the street. The other, the one who made me feel like he was undressing me with his eyes, glared after them. He looked back down at me. “Maybe next time, sweet lips. Have a good night.”
Then they were gone. They loaded themselves into the car and started it up. I expected them to spin their tires and tear out of there in a chorus of loud music and hollering, but their departure was relatively silent.
I blew out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Carly got unsteadily to her feet and I stood beside her. I brushed the grass and dirt off her pants and offered her my shoulder again to continue walking home.
She shook her head. “I’m totally sober now.”
We made it back to my house in record time. Relief washed over me when we locked the front door. I stood in the entrance of my place for several minutes before I pushed myself off the door and went to the kitchen. I brewed us a pot of coffee and we sat in subdued silence in the living room. I invited her to forgoe the couch and sleep in my bed that night. She happily obliged.
CHAPTER TWO
My sleep was restless and riddled with images of the smoking man on the street. His rough drawling voice soothed the terror that gripped me in my nightmare and stirred me awake. It was late morning and I was alone in bed. I sat in silence for a moment before hearing Carly being sick in the bathroom out in the hallway.
I swung my legs over the bed and went to boil water for tea. I grabbed a Ginger Ale from the fridge and took it to the bathroom. Carly opened the door for me and I stood with one shoulder leaning against the doorframe. She took the Gingerale gratefully and sipped it slowly.
“Never again,” she shuddered.
“You said that last time.”
She leaned away from the toilet she had been hunkered over and sat back on her heels. She took another mouthful of soda. When she spoke, she wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I’m sorry I was so useless last night, with those guys. I didn’t realize… I’m such an idiot.”
“Car, it has nothing to do with you. They were a bunch of creeps.”
“Except the one guy,” she said, her eyes finally sweeping up to meet mine.
I thought of McCoy for the hundredth time since meeting him. “Yeah.” I couldn’t stop thinking about him. My imagination was toying with me, devising images of his lazy walk and attitude. His broad shoulders and messy dark hair tickled something in me that I hadn’t been able to silence. I wanted to see his face. In my dreams his features had been hidden in constant shadow, just like they were last night. My curiosity was killing me.
Carly giggled. “Oh girl, I feel you.”
I shook my head and couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t think you’d remember much about him. You were pretty hammered.”
“Oh, I remember him. Tall. Dark. Sexy as hell.” Her eyes widened and she clutched her stomach. “Oh God,” she groaned, shooing me away from the door while she clutched the bowl of the toilet again.
I left her in peace and finished making my tea in the kitchen. I drowned out the sounds she made by turning on the radio, and hummed along to every song in an attempt to distract myself from the tantalizing thoughts of the stranger who had saved us.
✤
I was useless at work that week. I spent my time running my usual errands for my boss, Lisa, but was incredibly scatterbrained. She chastised me for bringing her the wrong coffee on Monday, and scolded me for leaving the wrong pens out at the settings I prepared for her publishers meeting. I was her assistant, and although her demands were tedious and somewhat preposterous at times, I loved my job and rose to every occasion. I never let her down, well, usually. But this week was havoc. My brain swam with images of him, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop myself.
It was unhealthy. I knew it. I had to find a way to get my mind off of him and focus on something else. Something that wasn’t dangerous and rugged and effortlessly cool and-
Enough, Veronica. Pull yourself together.
It was as I was sitting at my desk outside Lisa’s office that she wrenched the door open and hollered my name. I had been staring at my screen saver for who knows how long, thinking about him, even though I had challenged myself not to spare him another second of my thoughts.
“Veronica, may I see you in my office, please?”
I stood and straightened my desk before I left; in other words, I made sure the loose papers were stacked neatly beside my computer, and I dropped all my pens back into their cup. Lisa watched me with a sour expression and clicked her tongue for me to hurry up.
Her office was nicely decorated. It had a soothing vibe to it that contrasted Lisa’s very uptight, take no prisoners kind of attitude. She stood behind her desk and crossed her arms, then pointed her chin at the seat in front of her, asking me in her own way to sit. I sat down, crossed my legs, and uncrossed them again.
“So.” She started, looking at me expectantly.
I wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted me to say. “So…”
She rolled her eyes and dropped down into her own chair across the desk from me. “Veronica, you’re the best employee I’ve ever had, and I can’t help but notice that you haven’t been… what’s the best way to say this?” She glanced at her ceiling as she searched for the right words. “You haven’t been entirely present, this week. You know what I mean?”
“I don’t think so.” Of course I did.
Lisa clasped her hands in front of her. I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on her massive glitzy wedding ring. “What I mean is, you’ve been off in la la land since Monday morning. Now, I’m a little worried about you. It’s not like you to be so spaced out. Is everything okay?”
This was a strange change of pace for me. My relationship with Lisa had been strictly a professional one for the last four years. She had given me some time off when I left Jason, sympathizing with my situation. She had confided in me that she had gone through a similar experience, and suggested I treat myself to long baths and lots of wine to get over him. Since then, everything we had ever discussed had been about work. Now she had noticed I was behaving differently again. Could I really be this hung up on a man I didn’t even know?
When I didn’t answer her Lisa cleared her throat. “You don’t have to tell me, Veronica, I respect privacy. But if you need someone to talk to- a non biased party- you can talk to me.”
“I uh…” Perhaps a neutra
l opinion could be helpful. I found myself hoping that Lisa could give me the approval that I wanted desperately from Carly. So I began to tell her about the other night with McCoy, and his rag tag group of perverts. “And then,” I finished, “they just followed him and everyone got in the car.”
Lisa pursed her lips. “And you can’t stop thinking about him?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I dream about the guy. I can’t get him out of my head. I know he’s bad news. I know that. I’m not stupid. But I’m so distracted all the time.”
Lisa nodded. “It’s an obsession. It will go away with time.”
“An obsession?” Her matter of fact tone and the word obsession frightened me. Weren’t those the kind of things people wrote books and made movies about? I wasn’t that girl. I was a smart girl who kept her head down. A girl with priorities. All of which could go straight to hell if I got tangled up with a man like McCoy.
Lisa laughed lightly. “My dear, I don’t think you need to fret. It will pass with time. Spend time with your friends. Carly, right? She’ll be a good distraction. I’ve met her. She’s crazy enough to keep you well entertained. Don’t you think?”
I shrugged. It was most likely true. Most likely. “I’ll try.”
After that Lisa sent me home early. She claimed I needed time to ‘sort my thoughts out’. I wasn’t going to argue with that logic. I quickly gathered my jacket and purse and shuffled out the door, ignoring the longing looks the others in the office gave me as I escaped to freedom.
Freedom that was still riddled with daydreams of a tall, handsome, dangerous man with a deep voice and bad smoking addiction.
When I got home I took some of Lisa’s old advice. I had a bubble bath and read a book while sipping on a cider. The book was a welcomed reprieve from my thoughts. Carly came over and let herself in with the key I left under my mat and was preparing dinner. She gave me a wide grin when I came into the kitchen wrapped in a silk robe. My hair was knotted on top of my head in a towel. Carly held up a bottle of wine from the counter. She wiggled it back and forth and nodded at two of my wine glasses. “We need a night out. And by we, I mean you. I know you’re all wrapped up in this McCoy guy, but we both know he’s bad news. You need to move on and find a healthier infatuation.”
