by Tara Brown
I almost choked more at the things they said to each other.
If I glanced into the corner, I could see the ever-watchful eyes of Grayson, stalking my every move.
The room got hazy with smoke and the fire ale was making my tongue numb, but I was winning my notes back slowly.
Guy pointed a swaying finger at me. "Ya drink like a man, Millia. It's not attractive. Ya gamble and drink. Not attractive at all."
"You don’t find me attractive?" I hiccupped.
He shook his head slowly. "Can't tell. Yer wearing men's clothes." The devil was in his eyes though, suggesting he thought I was fine.
"I don’t find ya attractive. Too skinny. Ya need some meat on those bones. Men like women with something to grip onto." Hans put a thick arm around my shoulders.
“You aren’t the first man to deny me my beauty.” I shrugged and laughed harder. "But I'm lean, not skinny. I bet I can beat you in an arm wrestle."
Hans blasted me with a jolly chuckle. "Ya want to wager on it?"
I nodded slowly. "I do. You buy the next pitcher."
He spit on his hand and put it out. I did the same and let him embrace my hand with a squishy shake. He pulled his hand away and positioned himself. I wiped my hand off and put it into his. It looked like a child's next to his.
He gave me an icy stare and nodded. "Ready?"
I nodded back as I felt the tension in his arm start to build. Just as he pushed, testing me, I lifted from my seat and planted the biggest kiss I could on his thick, warm drunken lips. His hand went loose and I slammed it to the table with incredible force.
He sat back, stunned. His cheeks blushed as the room erupted into laughter. He pointed his fat finger at me. "Ya saucy little minx. Ya cheated."
I batted my eyelashes and waved a hand in the air. Grayson watched his stepmother bring us a new pitcher. He looked dangerous and for some drunken reason it made my stomach twinge when I saw his look. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.
Hans shook his head. "I dare say, lass, ya just got more attractive. Skinny or no. Kissing a man like that could kill him."
I blushed and watched the icy-blue eyes smoldering in my direction. I didn’t win all my money back, but I laughed, and got drunk for the very first time in my life. It was fabulous. Hans, Guy, Lance, Jarrod, Anderson, John, and Harold were the most fun I had ever had, hands down.
It was exactly the night I needed.
As I got up, the room spun and my throat felt thick. I stood on shaky, wobbly legs, like a newborn deer, and staggered from the table.
My foot caught on something as the floor was suddenly coming at me. Sharp hard things dug into my armpits. I looked lazily up to see the haunting eyes that made me clench everywhere. I smiled up as I hiccupped and got lost for a second in the dark-blue eyes looking at me scornfully. My heart leapt, just a little. I forgot I hated him. I forgot he broke me in every way he could. I forgot everything but a lifetime of desperate love.
Maddox’s face was twisted in anger. "What in the hell is going on?"
The pain of his prior words flew into my mind. I pulled away, staggering back.
Guy caught me, asking with a tone I hadn’t yet heard from him, "Who is this, Millia?"
I pointed a drunken, wavering finger at Maddox. "That is the man who broke my heart, twice. No, three times. Yes, three times."
Hans staggered over to him, looking up at him with fury. I never realized how large Maddox was before. He towered over everyone in the room, even huge Hans who puffed his chest out and nodded at the door. "Ya need to leave now—alone. She’s no concern of yers. She don't need no man who breaks her heart and misuses her. I’ll have ya know she kisses like a demon and has more fight in her than any man I’ve ever met. She deserves a far cry better than the likes of ya."
Maddox glowered over Hans’ drunken sputtering, ignoring him and directing his anger right at me. He gritted his teeth, and all I could see was the disgusted look in his eyes as he sighed with annoyance and put a hand out. "We're leaving."
I paused, watching him for a moment before I laughed and shook my head as all the words I needed to say fell from my lips. "I hate you, Max. I'm not going anywhere with you. Not now, not ever. You ruin everything. You always have, and I loved you before so I didn't see how much you ruined. But now I'm having fun. Leave me alone. Just go." The words sounded less like words but the statement stood. It looked as though he could tell what I was trying to say, through the slurring.
His eyes burned as he shouldered past Hans and grabbed my arm. Hans spun, gripping Maddox's arm in an attempt to pull it off me. But Maddox's swinging hand gripped me still as Hans jerked it, sending me flying into a table and chairs. I moaned from the pain of the hard wood against my skin.
Warmth surrounded me, and as my eyes cleared I saw the worried look on Grayson’s face. He was holding me tight to his chest and speaking slowly, "Time to go, boys." His words were soft but firm.
When I looked up into his concerned face, I felt lost—like I was in a dream. "I think I could love you very easily," I muttered.
He flashed a grin. "Maybe we can talk about it when you're sober?"
I nodded. "Yup."
Grayson smiled at me but spoke firmly to the others, "Time to go, boys. It’s closing."
I turned my head to see the group of them, all tense and looking ready to fight. Hans twitched like he was about to say something but he didn’t. He probably knew how Grayson got when he was angry. I'd seen it a few times. It was savage. No one could fight like Grayson. He was fast and harsh with his movements, like an angry dance.
Hans met my eyes, checking to see if I was all right. I nodded. "I'm okay, boys. You can go. We don’t want to make this one angry." I patted Grayson on the chest. He looked less than impressed.
The guys chuckled. Guy smiled nervously, his eyes darting to Maddox and then to Grayson, and then back to me. "We play this night, every week. Ya have an invite for every game."
I grinned. "Sounds great. I'm in."
“She’s out.” Maddox looked at me and put his hand out again. "I'll take you home."
“You don't decide for me.” I gripped Grayson tightly.
Maddox opened his mouth but Grayson beat him to the punch. "She has a room here. I keep it for her. She’s called this home for a while."
Maddox's eyes burned as he stepped into Grayson's face and growled, "I said I would take her home. You don't even know her. You don't even know what kind of trouble she brings everywhere she goes."
I gulped but Grayson put me down, stepped in front of me, and laughed. "She’s worth every bit of trouble she might bring, friend. The fact you didn't see it until it was too late is your loss. Now I said you aren’t taking her anywhere. I said it’s time to go."
The whole scene froze as everyone got lost in the tension of two huge men squaring off. A nervous giggle trickled through me. I didn't fight it but laughed and staggered to the stairs. "Goodnight all. Been a blast, boys." I teetered and swayed my way up the stairs.
"Amillia, come back here. NOW!" Maddox’s voice sounded angry in a way I had never heard before. It made me smile with warm and fuzzy delight. Finally, he was angry, truly angry. Finally, I was getting over him and he was getting stuck on me. I prayed his anguish would only be half of what mine was.
I stumbled up the stairs and rounded the corner to my room, pushing on the door and struggling with the knob. It didn’t open.
I turned my back on the door and slid down it, fighting back bile as I listened to the commotion down the stairs. My body slid down the wall farther till I was lying on the floor, wondering who would be the victor. Either way, I was not willing to witness them fight to the death because neither would back down. It was ridiculous. I could kill them both. Maybe not drunk, but I could put up quite the fight if I had to.
I smelled something familiar as warmth surrounded me. I tried to open my eyes but they argued that they were shut for the night.
"Amillia, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. We
need to talk." Words whispered as arms wrapped around me, lifting me.
A growl ripped through the air. "Put her down now."
My eyes shot open violently, flashing the world at me too quickly.
I groaned, seeing it was Maddox carrying me in the hallway with Grayson blocking the way. “Get away from me both of you,” I muttered, not sure how much of it was audible. Neither moved so I shouted, "PUT ME DOWN!"
He gave me a wounded look but I didn't care. He sighed, clearly defeated and put me down. I shot a glare at Grayson. "Open the damned door!"
He jumped, opening the door to my room with his key. I staggered, falling into the wall a bit but catching myself as they both stepped forward to help. "GO AWAY, BOTH OF YOU! LET ME THROW UP IN PEACE FOR GOD’S SAKE!" I slammed the door and slumped, pulling my daggers off and dropping them on the bed with all the effort I had in me. I fell onto the bed, not even bothering to roll onto my back. I moaned, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
It didn’t, but I fell asleep anyway.
Chapter Fourteen
I woke to a new kind of pain. My eyes fluttered against the dim lighting in the room. I tried to swallow but my throat was so parched that it felt as if I’d lain in the sun for a year without water.
I lifted my head, gagging a little as I put a hand out to stabilize myself. I was face down on my bed in the inn, next to my daggers and a puddle of my own drool. I let my legs fall over the edge of the bed so I could sit up, getting my bearings.
Shivers covered me, accompanied by cold sweat and a series of regrets that somehow made it through the mess of images that made no sense.
The waste bin next to my bed caught my eye as my throat turned sour. I leaned toward it, heaving the last few remnants of my stomach into it. Then, as if those few bits of food needed to be gone first, the fire ale attacked the bin. It fled like it had sat there all night waiting for the moment to bolt from my body.
I coughed and gagged and heaved until I was more exhausted than I had been when I woke. With the last bit of my effort, I pushed the bin away and curled into a ball on the floor. I closed my eyes, ready to die when a knock disturbed my silence and self-pity.
The knob turned. I lifted my arm, desperately reaching for the hilt of the dagger on my bed.
But Grayson and his smug grin entered the room. "Good morning, sunshine. Nice to see you’re still alive."
I shook my head, still trying to find the dagger so I could wipe that grin off his cheeky face. "No. No, I wouldn’t say that. Please—just stop shouting at me."
He glanced at the bin on the floor and called out toward the hall, "Luke." I winced again, moaning.
The small freckled boy, who had brought me clothes, came running in.
“Empty that before she gets sick again.” Grayson nodded at the bin.
The boy grabbed the bin. "Gross. Fire ale." He turned, holding it away from his small body with a disgusted face and left the room.
I covered my eyes. "I'm so sorry."
He sat on the bed and rubbed my leg. "Nothing to forgive or be sorry for."
I looked at the remnants of bruising on his face. It looked like it was weeks old, but I knew it hadn’t been there yesterday. "What's that?"
"If you think this is bad, you should see him." He winked.
"Maddox beat you up?"
He laughed. "No. I’d say it was pretty fair. I've never fought someone like him though. He's very good. I don’t worry about fights, usually. I know I can handle myself. But there is something about him."
"I know what you mean. I once pulled a sword out of his back and he lived. It was weird for me." I was rambling. "He isn’t normal at all." My eyes closed again.
"Are you?" His question made me open my eyes again, noting the sparkle in his.
I shook my head. "I don’t think so. I have a terrible feeling I'm not."
He lifted my chin. "If you need my help in anything at all, all you have to do is ask. I think I would give you anything." He looked sincere and frightening all at once. It was the best kind of frightening I’d ever seen.
But I blushed and pulled away. "How did you get him to leave?"
"I didn’t. He slept in the room across from you."
I glanced past him to the door and bit my lip. "Is he still here?"
He nodded and stood. "He is. I'll send in some things for you to freshen up." He left and closed the door.
I lay back on the bed and waited for things to make sense.
Luke knocked and brought the water tub. He didn’t look impressed. I felt bad about the bin he had emptied.
"Sorry about that. Grab a bill from the bureau."
He raised an eyebrow and took a bill.
Stepping into the hot water was amazing. I felt much better. I dressed and left the room, nervous of seeing Maddox. I wanted him out of my life. I knew that now. It was a painful place to have reached, but I was finally there. I was finally on the side of the decision about us that he was. I knew we could never be. He didn't love me, and I didn't deserve to be cast aside so often. I was a warrior in my own right. I was strong—stronger than some simpering girl running after a man who didn't want to be with her.
I walked to a table and sat down just as Grayson brought me tea and a large glass of something that looked odd. "Don't breathe, just chug it back. It'll fix the fire ale situation."
I looked at it skeptically. "I don’t think I can drink that."
He laughed. "Maybe not, but you have to. It's the only thing that’s going to stop you from throwing up everything that enters your belly for a fortnight."
My hand slowly reached for the glass. His charming smile almost reassured me of the drink but the dark-green coloring had me convinced otherwise.
The cold glass felt heavy. I lifted it to my lips and chugged the thick warm liquid. It felt disgusting, like swallowing slugs. It landed in my belly with a thud.
I was up like a shot and out of the inn in an instant. I ran to the alley and leaned against the building next door, bent over and heaving. My stomach cramped and ached. The green drink and a lot more fire ale shot from my lips. I'd never been as sick in my life. I heaved and heaved, until finally nothing but a trail of spit hung from my chapped lips.
A warm hand rested on my back and rubbed.
"Grayson, don’t look." I groaned and heaved again, producing nothing but pain.
He rubbed and whispered, "It's okay. Just get it all up. Fire ale has to come back up, it can’t go down." The voice didn't belong to Grayson.
“Leave me alone,” I muttered between retches and my body going into a convulsion of sorts. Maddox passed me a handkerchief. I took it and wiped my lips when I was pretty certain I was finished. I narrowed my gaze when I looked back and Maddox was still standing there.
"Not so tough now, are you?" The look in his eyes and the tone in his voice cut through me.
I closed my eyes. "Look, I can't do this, okay, Max? Just leave me alone. You told me you don’t love me—that you never did. Let me go. I’m working pretty hard on not loving you and having you show up all the time isn’t helping."
He sighed. "I am still your friend, Amillia, and friends don’t let friends stay at inns with strangers when friends are incredibly drunk."
I snapped and tried to keep my breath to myself. "Do friends stalk friends at parties and everywhere they go? Do friends kiss friends all the time but not want to be with friends as more than friends?" The conversation was starting to not make sense.
His face was literally killing me. I shouldered past him but he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his embrace again.
I shoved him hard. "I can't do this. You don't love me? Fine! But I can't like you." I knew my eyes had hardened and my face was stoic; he had done this to me. Killing and stalking and murdering had one effect on me, but he had done the other damage. "You wanted me to get past my little girl’s crush on you. Done. I can't make you love me, and you can't force me to be around you. We can't be friends." A tear slipped from my eyes.
"We never were friends."
I hurried back to the inn and up to my room, leaning my head on the outside of the door, locked out again. I needed to get a key from Grayson. Exhausted and ready to collapse, I inhaled a huge breath and waited until I was calm again before I walked back downstairs.
Grayson smiled at me. "How was it?"
I wrapped my arms around myself, still shaking and nauseated. "It worked. The fire ale is all gone."
He smiled brightly and put a hand out to me, leading me to a table. "It always does."
I stopped when I got there, seeing breakfast for two with eggs, ham, sausage, biscuits, butter, and fried potatoes. The plates of food made me queasy again, but I didn't think I would get sick. I just wasn't certain about eating.
He pulled out the chair. I smiled, not even able to help myself. "Thank you." I sat, telling myself I would just have some water.
He shrugged. "Don’t thank me. I should have hauled your butt away from that table last night. I knew what would happen. It’s the best drunk there is and some are willing to pay the price. I shouldn’t have let you drink that, I wouldn't have.”
I laughed. "Like you could have stopped me."
His eyes were serious. "I could have." But his lips fought a grin. “Now eat. You’ll feel better, trust me.”
Against every signal my body was sending, I cut some ham and took a bite. The first bite was exactly what I needed. The queasy, nausea stopped.
“See.”
I nodded between huge bites. “You do seem to know everything.”
He winked, taking a large bite too. “I have been around for a long time.”
I rolled my eyes. There was no way he was a day older than I was, nearly eighteen. Taking a huge bite of potato and ham, I spotted a face on the locket on my wrist. I paused to look at it and see if I knew the man that had materialized. When I glanced up, I noted the inn had gotten busier as we had eaten. Tables were filling up quickly. The noise was increasing.
But through that sea of laughter and noise, I saw him. On the far side of the inn sat the man whose face was on my wrist.
