I agreed and closed my eyes, suddenly afraid to voice aloud that I didn’t ever want to get back to the real world.
I wanted to stay in a world where Jack and I could dance on the beach and fall madly in love without any obstacles.
Chapter Six
Galveston, May 2010
I held up my empty shot glass, “I’ll have another.”
The bartender nodded and grabbed the bottle of tequila. I glanced down at my watch and scanned the bar for the tenth time in the last five minutes.
She was late.
And I was still pissed over Grey showing up in my hotel room with warnings.
Well, Charlotte was definitely going to get angry fucked first. If she wanted soft and sweet, then her ass should’ve been down here ten minutes ago.
What had she gone to her room to do? Shower and start from scratch? Fuck. I’d be sitting down here alone for the next hour and a half if that was the case.
The bartender slid my shot across the bar to me and I downed it almost immediately.
You know—who the fuck did Grey think he was? He threatened a peace officer. If I wasn’t such a nice guy, I’d come at him and his fucking club with the entire arm of the law on my side.
I didn’t owe him shit.
Patrick’s face immediately popped into my mind. “Ah, Christ,” I held up the shot glass in my hand, “Another, please. Fuck it. Just bring me the whole bottle.”
What happened with Patrick had been an accident. I wasn’t some cold-blooded killer. I massaged my temple and stared down at the bar top. I’d just been a kid—a stupid kid who made a stupid decision to defend himself.
My mom had stitched up my leg as best she could, but I still had a wicked scar that was reminder enough of how immature I’d been back then. I didn’t need Grey popping in to do the same.
“Is this seat taken?” A feminine voice whispered in my ear and I turned, with a smile on my face.
“You’re—not who I was expecting.”
The blonde giggled and sat down on the stool next to mine. It was the same woman who’d accosted me at the wedding. What had Charlotte called her? Oh right, Sandra. Sandra, the seven, who wanted to be fucked.
“Sorry to disappoint, but she’s not coming.” The grin was still fixed on her face, even as mine faded.
She wasn’t coming?
I tried to look like the news didn’t bother me. “What happened? Beauty problems? She meet someone else in the elevator?”
She shook her head. “She’s having a little trouble holding her beer.” Just in case I had any misconceptions on what that meant, she then pantomimed vomiting all over the bar top.
Jesus.
“Do you think I should check on her? Get her some club soda or something?”
Who the fuck was this guy? I didn’t go check on drunk chicks. I left that mess for someone else to clean up.
Sandra smiled, but it looked more like a sneer, to be honest. “She’s fine. I helped her into bed. She’ll be right as rain in the morning.”
I tried to think of how many beers she’d had. It couldn’t have been more than two. Hell, maybe she’d loaded up at the reception and I didn’t see it. “Okay then. Well, Sandra, lovely to see you again. I’m just gonna head back up to my room now.”
Her hand landed on my thigh and slid up. “Wait. Just because she’s indisposed doesn’t mean you have to go to bed alone.”
I let the liquor and her words sink in. If I went back to my room alone, then I was basically telling Grey that he was right. She wasn’t my first choice. Hell, she wasn’t even my tenth choice, but it was late and the odds of finding someone else were slim.
I poured another shot from the bottle. “Fine. Let’s go. It’s just straight fucking and then I want you out of my room when we’re done. Think you can handle that?”
Sandra leaned down and nipped my ear lobe with her teeth. “I like it rough.”
I gave one parting glance to the bar; hoping that Charlotte had miraculously recovered and shown up, but it was the same people as before.
The back table was a group of middle-aged golfers. Next to them was the sports fanatic and his long-suffering wife, who’d been glued to her phone the entire time I’d been down here. I bet she was on Pinterest. She seemed like the type.
There were a couple of tables that must’ve come from David and Elizabeth’s reception, but I didn’t recognize any of them. Plus, they’d paired off into couples and I wasn’t looking for a fight tonight.
Looked like it was just me and my solidly seven Sandra for the evening.
Sometimes, luck’s a bitch.
The knocking sound grew louder and I groaned before tossing the pillow over my head. It was like they were using a fucking jackhammer on the door.
“Room service,” the voice called out cheerily and I cursed.
I didn’t fucking order room service. I knew no one else had either, because the minute the sex was done, Sandra’s ass was back out in the hallway. Older women were all the same, expecting the man to cater to her desires. Well, fuck that.
I kicked the covers off and threw the door open. The woman’s eyes widened as she quickly looked me up and down. “Room service,” she squeaked out before thrusting the tray into my hands and bolting back down the hall.
“Yeah? Well, if you didn’t want to see it, you shouldn’t have shown up so goddamn early,” I called after her before kicking the door shut.
I climbed back into bed with the tray and lifted the lid. Someone had arranged the eggs and bacon into a smiley face—like something you’d see done for kids. Next to it was a note—
“Turn to channel 2…or 11…or 13…or 26. Enjoy your meal!”
I grabbed the remote and switched on the television set. It looked like aerial footage from the beach, nothing spectacular. Then I read the ticker along the bottom of the screen and my blood turned to ice.
“Remains were discovered early this morning near Stewart Beach in Galveston. It’s believed that they could possibly be those of Patrick Roy, a young man who went missing back in 2001.”
Holy fuck.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
That was what he’d meant by a warning.
The knocking began again at my door, followed by a terse, “Mike. Open the goddamn door.”
I jumped up and threw it open, still completely nude, and still not giving a fuck.
David shut the door behind him and ran his hands down his face. “What the fuck is this, Mike? You swore we were in the clear on this.”
I pointed helplessly at the television. “I—we were. I don’t know what happened. It’s going to be okay, David. Just calm down.”
He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Calm down? Calm down? I’m supposed to leave for my fucking honeymoon in less than two hours. What part of this seems like it’s going to be okay to you? And Jesus fucking Christ, put on some damn pants!”
I slipped on a pair of boxers that were lying near the bed and grabbed my cell phone. I didn’t even know who to call on this—my father would side with Grey no matter what and I wasn’t sure the man in charge would even take my call after the way I acted last night.
Shit.
I thought I knew it all. I didn’t have a fucking clue. You didn’t walk away from Silent Phoenix MC. I thought I’d made it out—just like Beast temporarily did after his turn at Russian Roulette. Grey had simply handed me the revolver and let me put a bullet in my own head. I’d thought he was just seeing my side of things, but he knew all along I’d come around. Dangle a fucking body over the beach and suddenly Mike was compliant again.
Hadn’t I seen enough from the club to know how they worked? Nobody left and went on to be successful. No, they left in pieces, to be disposed of somewhere in the desert.
I could’ve waited around and called their bluff, but these guys didn’t seem like the type to give a deadline before dropping the hammer.
“Mike—earth to fucking Mike. What’s your big plan, Detective? How are you gonn
a fix this? And if you don’t have a plan, then let’s walk your happy ass down to my room so you can tell my bride that I’m going away to federal prison for the rest of my natural life!”
I wiped his spit from my cheek and nodded. “Yep, I got all that. If you’ll just give me a motherfucking minute here, I’ll have you all squared away to go off on your honeymoon. Okay, princess?”
David snarled and then went for the minibar. “It’s fucking empty!”
I shrugged and scrolled through my phone contacts. “I got a little thirsty last night.”
Okay, I was going to have to swallow my pride and call Grey directly. I found his contact and waited for the call to connect while David kicked over the wastebasket and cursed. I covered the speaker. “Sweetie? Daddy’s on an important call. So, I’m gonna need you to shut the fuck up. Mmkay?”
He frowned at me just as someone picked up. “Yes?”
I knew it wasn’t safe to talk openly, so I slipped into the code I’d used with them over the past year. “Yeah, I-uh was calling to order a pizza.”
Grey laughed softly. “Well, I’ll be damned. See, last I heard, you were all done with pizza. Said it gave you indigestion and that you’d much rather stick with salad. Is that not right?”
Well, he wasn’t going to make it easy.
“Yeah, the last twelve hours have really helped me understand how much I love pizza. I just don’t think I’m ready to give it up. Pizza for life…or some shit like that.”
I could hear him talking to someone in the background. “You believe this shit, C? After all your hard work laying the leftover dough out on the beach, this shithead decides he wants pizza now.”
“Not a fucking chance,” my father growled. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.”
Well, that was about what I’d expected.
David watched me expectantly and I had to look away. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was a slight chance he might not make it on his honeymoon after all.
Grey clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You hear that, Mikey? C’s feelings are hurt. I think he’s afraid that if you come back, you’ll just change your mind a few months down the line.”
I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “No sir, absolutely not. Let’s just say that I’ve seen the alternative to a life without pizza and it’s a life I don’t want. Just give me another chance. I’ll get the fucking pizza any way you want it.”
“So, you’ll order it the way we say to order it and quit going off and doing things your own way?” His tone was the same as it had been the night before, but I didn’t miss the threat in his words this time around.
“No, whatever you want. I’m in.”
There was silence for a few seconds and then he was back. “You’ve been granted a reprieve. We’ll have that pizza over to you directly. One condition though—the hard drinking ends today. Get it out of your system because the liquor clouds your judgment and makes you a liability. Are we clear?”
“Yep. It’s done.”
I hung up the phone and stared at the ticker on the screen, wondering how long it would be before the story changed. The club was powerful, I don’t think I’d realized the extent until I was on their bad side.
“So?” David leaned into my face.
I nodded. “It’s being taken care of—may have just sold my soul to Satan, but it looks like you’ll get the honeymoon of your dreams after all, Pumpkin.”
Lauren
March 2014
When I left Galveston after David and Elizabeth’s wedding, I vowed to take better care of myself and to find a man like Jack. I’d even searched the beach as we drove away, hoping to see a surfer with dirty blond hair out on the water.
Putting my plan into action had been a lot harder than I imagined though. The trouble was that men like Jack didn’t exist in Lubbock. Oh, and the fact that I still worked for a tyrant who didn’t believe in self-care. Well, when it came to me anyway.
I even tried to lower my standards and told myself that I would look for a man like David—sure, he never smiled and always looked ready to fight, but he was head over heels for Elizabeth.
The results were the same, regardless.
Jack had been the last man to kiss me. How sad was that?
In addition to paying the steady stream of parking and toll violations that seemed to come in the mail every month, I’d also invested a lot of my paycheck in more phallic sculptures, just to keep myself sane. Here I was, almost four years later, in the exact same boat I’d started out in.
I’d taken to studying Elizabeth over the last few months to try and decipher what it was that drew David to her. Marriage hadn’t changed things for them—if anything, it made them stronger. He would send flowers to the office for no reason. She’d look at the card and give this secret smile, as if she was newly in love, before running to the shredder to destroy it.
I found that part odd.
If my husband were sending me love notes, I’d keep them in a special box so that I could show them to my children and grandchildren someday.
The more I watched Elizabeth, the more I found her behavior strange. Lately, she’d become distant at work, completing her tasks as if she were a robot. I waited until there was a lull in the schedule before confronting her by the copier.
“Who died?” I placed my hand on my hip.
Elizabeth looked at me with wide eyes, “What are you talking about?”
I dropped the hand from my hip and snapped my fingers in her face, “You! You walk around here like you’re in a dream and I figure someone you love must be dying.”
She glanced around before lowering her voice, “Look, I don’t want to talk about it here. Can we go to lunch somewhere?”
I nodded, “Sure, let’s do that. Now, I really need you to get back to work. We’ve got an issue with the schedule for next Wednesday. Doc’s going to be out so we’ll need to move those appointments.”
It wasn’t the most pressing of tasks, but I thought it might help get her mind off of whatever it was that was bothering her—at least until we got to lunch. Apparently, Dr. Mulloy’s boy toy had booked a trip to Santa Fe and was insisting they leave a day early.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of patients and nonsensical requests from Dr. Mulloy. Today, she was obsessed with ripping up the perfectly good two-year-old carpet in the lobby and replacing it with tile in the shape of teeth.
I made it to a nearby deli just a little after noon, ready to hear Elizabeth’s story. I’d no sooner slid across the booth from her and stuck a fork in my salad when she blurted out, “I’m cheating on David.”
It was said so matter-of-fact, as if it was the kind of thing all women did to their husbands.
“No,” I exclaimed. “But I thought you were happy. The flowers—”
She shook her head. “Landon, my—God, what do you call him? My other man? He sent me flowers…not David.”
She told me how David had changed since his father, John, had passed away the year before. He’d taken more jobs out-of-town and had been emotionally distant with her.
“I tried, Lauren. I tried to be supportive, but he’s never there. And when he does show up, it’s like dealing with a temperamental toddler—he’s completely unpredictable. I just feel like I can’t do anything to make him happy.” She wiped away tears and managed a couple of bites of food, while I sat shell-shocked across from her.
I’d placed my faith in them as a couple. Granted, we weren’t close. Elizabeth had her life and I had mine, but I’d considered her a friend. To find out that she’d been unfaithful to her husband for the majority of the past year left me feeling unsteady.
If they couldn’t make it, then who could?
I stumbled over my words, “How—why? I don’t understand,” before repeating, “I thought you and David were happy.”
“We were—he’s just been out-of-town five days a week and I’ve been lonely. I don’t even know how to begin cleaning up this mess.
I don’t want to call up Landon, but my husband won’t return my calls.”
David had always seemed broody, for lack of a better term, but I’d naïvely thought that he was someone better when he was with her.
“You have your friends here to help you. I want you to take the rest of the week off and sort this out. I’ll cover for you.” I knew if I were in her position, there’d be no way that I could function properly.
My situation with Monica stealing my car had been different. It was my own fault that I’d gotten into that mess; Elizabeth’s problems ran much deeper.
She stared at me, openmouthed. “Why are you being so nice to me? I didn’t think you liked me all that much.”
Here it was.
The moment of truth. “Of course I like you! You’re my friend. I know I can be hard on you, but it’s because I know how much you’re capable of. Let me help you—anytime that you’re thinking of texting or calling Landon, reach out to me instead and I’ll drop everything.”
She smiled and reached across the table to take my hand. “Thank you, Lauren. That really means a lot to me.”
I’d nodded and smiled, but deep down I just felt depressed. I guess it didn’t matter if life gave you a fairy tale because, sooner or later, one or the both of you would just screw it all up. Perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered if Jack and I had hit it off all those years ago.
Maybe I’d just been holding myself back for something that didn’t even exist.
I’d texted Elizabeth the next day and asked her to dinner. We’d had limited time at lunch the day before and I still had a lot of questions.
I made it to Crafthouse, the restaurant Elizabeth chose, a few minutes after seven. Isaac’s GPS hadn’t known the location of the restaurant like it loudly proclaimed it did. It had led me out of town and down some random dirt road before I started to suspect that it was full of shit.
‘Up ahead, there’s a drifter on the left. Your destination is one half-mile from that.’
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