by Cecy Robson
Instead he’d given me space and time. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him then. As I neared the large glass doors, Big Chris saw me and nodded my way, eyeing the plate in my hands. When he unlocked the doors for me, I knew there was no going back.
I couldn’t afford to buy Mateo anything. My father used to gift me with jewelry, when I made head cheerleader, was nominated for homecoming queen, and when I was accepted to Notre Dame along with Donovan. It only seemed right for me to give Mateo something.
He and Ant leaned against the bar, waiting for the rest of their crew to show before they’d discuss the strategy for the night. At the DJ stand, Jace skimmed through his playlist, his earbuds firmly in place, banging his head to whatever new mix he’d concocted.
Mateo chuckled at something Ant said. His smile invariably revealed traces of the young man hidden beneath the wall of hard muscle. I’d seen sorority girls attempt to lure out that smile while entering and exiting the club. So far, none had succeeded, and tonight, I was especially glad of this. His black Club Excess T-shirt hugged his broad chest, and stubble played along the edges of his square jaw. He hadn’t shaved. It looked good on him…sexy even.
My eyes widened in surprise at where my thoughts had wandered. I counted to ten and forced myself to approach him, clinging to my small paper plate like it possessed the power to make me a little braver and somehow less dorky.
Mateo stopped smiling when he saw me approach, barely managing a nod. “Evie.”
He wasn’t happy to see me. Awesome. Everything in me screamed to run and hide. But it was too late now.
Ant smirked. “Hey, sweet thing. What’re you up to?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing” appeared to be the operative word. They stood there, waiting for more. I struggled with what to say until my gaze fell on Mateo’s Wrath tattoo. I motioned to his forearm with my plate. “D-did you get that when you were…you know, in the big house?”
Their stunned pause gave my face time to warm, but that was nothing compared to the scorching blush Ant’s sudden cackle caused. “The big house?” He laughed again, this time doubling over and slapping his leg. “Evelyn, you are the whitest person on the planet. You have no business saying ‘big house.’ ”
Mateo’s chest and shoulders shook and he struggled to keep his lips pressed tight. He didn’t laugh out loud exactly, but when he gave me his back I figured it was a very bad sign. He placed his hands on his hips and lowered his head, taking a few breaths while I waited like a moron with the friggin’ cookies in my hands. When he turned, I was shocked to see all traces of humor had dissolved from his face. Meanwhile Ant continued to laugh his ass off. Mateo cleared his throat. “Ant, go ask Sam if the new T-shirts are in.”
Ant wiped his tear-streaked eyes. “Are you sure you want me to leave you alone with this badass broad?”
Mateo’s head jerked toward the wall. He swiped his mouth with his hand and took another deep sigh, regaining his composure. “Just ask him.”
He gave him a shove when Ant opened his mouth to say something more. What the eff? I just wanted to die. Mateo tilted his chin toward the cookies. “You like baking?”
“No. Yes. No.” Gawd. I held out the plate. “I made them for you. You helped me last week and I never had the chance to do, well, say…” I released a breath when he just stared. “Thank you. I’m just trying to thank you.”
The next few seconds were the longest of my life, and it took everything I had not to bolt. I was glad I stayed. The edges of Mateo’s full lips curved into a smile. He locked eyes with me, and I forgot everything: Ant’s laugh, my humiliation, my regret. I knew I was in trouble when I realized I never wanted to look away.
“You’re welcome, Evie,” he murmured, his voice deeper. He reached for the plate, breaking our connection as he placed it on the bar. He removed the flimsy plastic wrap. With a wink and a grin, he reached for a cookie.
It was all so magical.
Until he took a bite.
The moment his teeth clenched down, something changed his expression. Was it shock freezing the strong angles of his face? Pain? No…
He continued to munch with embarrassingly great difficulty just as Ant returned. “Sam says the shirts should be in by Monday. Oh, cookies.”
Mateo reached out a hand, trying to stop Ant from swiping one, but he was too busy choking on my mutant creation to be of any use. Ant took a bite and immediately spit it out. “What the—?” He pointed accusingly at the cookie. “Did you make this shit?”
I answered the only way I knew how. “Ah, no?”
Mateo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, chunks of crumbs and chocolate smearing his mouth and jaw. This time he couldn’t kill his laughter. His body splayed across the bar as he forced down the last of my thank-you.
There were moments in my life I could have clung to forever. This was not one of them. I was mortified.
It couldn’t get any worse―or so I thought―until a few of the bouncers strolled in and found their fearless leader slumped across the bar in hysterics. I inched away, ready to race off, screaming. Ant, of course, just couldn’t let it die.
“Listen up, peeps. If anyone, and I mean anyone, pulls the dealing shit tonight, I want you to bash their skulls in with one of these.” He lifted one of my cookies over his head. “These bitches will knock a motherfucker out.”
Chapter Four
I didn’t speak to Mateo or Ant for the rest of Thursday night or on Friday, avoiding them like the flesh-eating-virus-infected patient I was assigned to during my last clinical rotation. Both nights I’d escaped to the locker room and volunteered for restroom duty, and Saturday was no exception.
I hated restroom duty. But humiliation fueled my need to scrub toilets. It also helped that Sam paid extra to anyone willing to clean. Those of us struggling volunteered regularly, giving Sam an excuse not to hire a cleaning company. Yes, you could say the man was cheap.
“Evelyn. No one is going to eat in here. You don’t have to be so thorough. Come on, we’re done. Put your feet up while you can.”
I continued to polish the automatic faucet. “Just a few more minutes, Dee-Dee. I’m almost done.”
“Okay. Whatever.”
She swung open the door, knocking her bucket against it. The crash―along with distant laughter from the staff and the hum of Jace checking his sound mixer―bounced along the black and red tiles. “Dee, is Evie still in there?”
I stopped mid-wipe. Oh. No.
Mateo waited for me outside. My body heated without even glancing in his direction.
“Evelyn,” Dee called over her shoulder. “Mateo wants you.”
No kidding. Both he and Ant had made attempts to talk. I had just walked away, stiffly, swiftly, and silently. If I hadn’t been perceived as stuck-up before, I was now.
Dee left. I stared at my reflection. With nothing better to do, I pulled out my hair tie and fixed my thick blond hair back into a neat ponytail. I wasn’t dressed for work yet. Although Sam insisted the staff be in uniform thirty minutes before opening, I was still in my jeans and T-shirt since I’d planned to hide and scrub sinks. But now it was time and Mateo waited, probably hoping for another laugh at my expense.
I shoved all my cleaning supplies into a bucket and pushed open the door. Our locker room was situated right next door. My hope was that Mateo had left and I could slip in unnoticed. Of course, that was a no-go.
The moment I pulled the handle, there he was, leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, staring directly at the door. Without a word I made a sharp left.
“Evie, wait.” His hand clasped my free one, barely touching me but somehow managing to hold me in place. “Look, I know you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Yeah you are.”
“You’re wrong.”
That was the truth, but there was more. As he held me, I found myself spewing TMI like a co-ed after too many shots of Patrón. “I know everyon
e here thinks I’m a bitch, but I’m not.” His fingertips slipped from mine. “It’s not easy for me to reach out to anyone. I don’t know how to fit in, and I don’t know how to make friends.” I looked at him then. Surprise and concern shadowed the planes of his smooth face.
I hadn’t intended to tell him anything. I just couldn’t seem to stop. Something about Mateo chipped away at me. So there I was, letting it all out. “People came to me because of who I was, and what I supposedly had. I never had to make an effort. Not like I do now.”
He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, watching me. “But you did when you gave me the cookies.”
I nodded, feeling my eyes sting at the truth of his words. “I tasted them before I gave them to you. I didn’t think they were bad…”
My voice trailed off as he stepped forward and gently cupped the nape of my neck. Soft warm lips brushed against my forehead, just barely sweeping across my electrified skin. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he murmured. His thumb stroked a tender spot behind my ear as his amazing eyes met mine. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
He released me and walked away while I remained motionless, holding my stupid bucket.
—
The night was insane. The doors opened at nine. By midnight, I’d already raced back and forth to the bar at least thirty times. And I wasn’t the only one. Dee-Dee hefted her tray above my head as Noelle and I passed her with ours packed to the brim.
“Are these organic olives?” The girl in head-to-toe Versace lifted the toothpicked olive out of her drink and waved it at me. “I only do organic.”
I smiled and lied. “Totally. We only use organic products.”
She popped it in her mouth. “Then keep them coming, honey.”
I wasn’t the only one dealing with idiots. Big Chris separated two swinging frat boys by snatching them by the backs of their necks. I weaved through the crowd, watching him drag them along as I returned for more drinks.
I slapped my tray down at the pick-up station at the corner of the bar. Sam stacked Noelle’s tray with a record eight Long Island Iced Teas and eight BJ shots. “Ignorant sorority tramps,” she muttered. She threaded her way through the crowd as Jace’s Timbaland remix worked the co-eds into a gyrating heap.
“Sam, I need my gin and tonics for table sixteen!”
Sweat dripped along his forehead as he poured what looked like Redheaded Slut shots into ten tiny cups. “Julian’s got yours!”
Three bartenders usually worked the front bar and four took the back, closest to the DJ. Tonight it was just Sam and Julian in front. Julian was new. Brand new. But I’ll admit, that guy could mix. “Yours are next, Evelyn!” he said.
“Thanks!”
My hips involuntarily swayed to the beat as I waited for my drinks. Mateo took point just a few feet away. He scanned the crowd from his elevated platform, appearing to take in everything but me. We hadn’t spoken since he’d left me near the locker room. I didn’t think he’d noticed me until his voice boomed beside me. “Don’t even think about it!”
I jumped, surprised by how quickly he’d moved. He gripped some dumbass by the wrist, their hands inches from my butt. The moron had tried to cop a feel.
Mateo made sure he never touched me.
The guy fell to his knees from the pressure Mateo applied. Mateo’s glare remained trained on him as he let go and the loser stumbled away. “Thank you,” I mumbled.
Mateo winked at me before returning to his stand. Okay. That wasn’t a totally swoon-worthy moment or anything. He watched me for a moment until someone else drew his attention.
A no-neck brute in a leather jacket moved through the crowd, his gaze fixed on something ahead of him. My eyes widened. He had been with one of the dealers arrested last week.
Mateo spoke into his earpiece. Six bouncers from different platforms along the wall looked up at once, their hands cupping their ears as they listened to Mateo’s orders. Ant was among them. He nodded once and stepped down while another bouncer took his position. Big Chris, who was working the floor, also nodded, stalking in Ant’s direction.
“Here you go, Evelyn.” Julian stacked the last of my gin and tonics, topping it with a lime.
Mateo placed his hand on my lower back, halting me in place. “Stay here until we know what’s up,” he whispered in my ear.
Another bouncer had taken his position. I didn’t move, even when Mateo’s palm slipped from the small of my back, knowing better than to question him. His focus remained ahead as he waited, angling just slightly in front of me.
The guy in the leather jacket paused between two men who motioned ahead. Through the sea of dancing bodies and waving arms, I saw who he was searching for.
A skinny guy in a gray hoodie threw back his head and laughed until he caught the man in leather staring straight at him. Panic widened his eyes and he yelled to his group.
The guy in the leather jacket reached behind his back. There was a moment where everything seemed to stand still, then Mateo yelled, “Gun!”
The club lights flashed against a shimmer of silver as Ant locked the arm of the man they were watching and wrenched it up.
Mateo hauled me behind the bar by my waist, his voice a roar. “Get down!”
The weapon fired just as my feet hit the floor, freezing me where I stood. My blood ran cold. Jesus. I knew that sound.
Screaming ensued, followed by the collective bellow of everyone rushing forward at once. Noelle’s heavy tray soared from her hand when someone barreled into her. It was the last image I witnessed before I ducked down below the bar.
Another shot, followed by another. My body jerked with each blast.
I crouched, clasping my hands over my head. Oh, God. Oh, God. The dizzy sensation returned and my throat tightened until I could barely breathe. But then something struck me hard, abruptly halting my rising panic.
One of the waitresses had landed on top of me. She rolled off me, her face bleached with fear.
“Christ, grab them!” Sam yelled.
Sam and Julian were yanking the screaming waitresses who had rushed forward, over and behind the bar. Dee-Dee crawled along the floor to me. “Evelyn. Where’s Noelle? Did you see her?”
I yelled over the noise, “She was by the VIP section!”
“Hell. Are you serious? There’s nothing there to hide behind!”
She was right. If anything, the elevated area made her more visible. I crept behind the bar toward where I’d seen Noelle lose her tray. Some of the clubbers jumped over something on the floor, others tripped over it. I clasped my hand over my mouth. There was nothing there big enough to create a barrier. Except maybe a person.
I didn’t think. Just reacted, racing around the stampeding crowd toward where I believed Noelle to lie.
“Evelyn!”
“Evelyn!”
“God damn it, Evelyn!”
Dee-Dee’s, Julian’s, and Sam’s hollers were barely audible above the cries of the terrified crowd. I wasn’t big, and I sure wasn’t tall. But that didn’t make me weak.
I drove through the clubbers shoving forward in their haste to flee the chaos. Each strike from a shoulder, careless elbow, or flailing arm made me more determined to reach Noelle. If she was on the floor, she was in danger.
Problem was, I could end up the same way.
Someone shoved me into the wall, causing the air in my lungs to leave in a painful rush. I hugged the black cinder block, taking a moment to gather my breath before I realized the advantage of where I stood. There was an uneven ledge about six inches above the floor, remnants of the original wall left from the renovations. It was barely enough to slide my small feet along, but it worked to separate me from the trampling mob so I could reach the first of a row of ten-seater booths lining the wall.
I climbed over the high-backed pleather seat and scooted across the table to the next, continuing along while taking in the chaos on the dance floor.
Every bouncer had abandoned his post. Some swung their fist
s; others shoved away or restrained men trying to thrust themselves into the mix. Big Chris and Ant pinned guys to the floor. They shoved their faces into the sticky hardwood boards, swearing at them and daring them to move.
Mateo had taken on a monster of a man. They went blow for blow, Mateo throwing his weight behind every bone-rattling punch.
Blood oozed from a gash above Mateo’s right eye. My body shuddered. Oh, God, I couldn’t watch him bleed. So I forged ahead, gasping when I caught sight of Noelle’s unmoving foot.
The glass and chrome railing sectioning off the VIP area was just a few more booths away. I fumbled, fell, and dragged my way through, until I reached the section and swung my legs over.
My boots slid across the wood floor as I ran around to the small steps. My detour had taken me to the rear of the club, allowing me to move with the crowd and to Noelle. She lay on top of the glass-littered floor, sobbing and holding her thigh. Blood seeped from her leg as clubbers continued to slam into her. She screamed when someone kicked her in the side.
I shoved my way to her and wrenched her up by her armpits, using the momentum of the crowd to move us forward. Too many people waited ahead trying to exit, but I didn’t need to leave. I just needed to take her somewhere safe.
The moment we reached the first booth, I rammed her beneath it. She scooted under one side, while I crawled into the other, grunting when someone kicked my ankle.
I gritted my teeth from the sharp pain, wondering how she’d survived the parade of blows. “Are you okay?”
Mascara streaked her fair and freckled skin, but she managed to nod through her whimpers. “I couldn’t get up and those bitches wouldn’t help me.”
“I know, Noelle. It’s okay.” I tugged off my white dress shirt and bunched it, then pressed it tight against her leg. I should have felt naked in my skimpy tank, but I didn’t care just then. “Here. Hold pressure.”
She clasped my wrist when I tried to leave. “Where the hell are you going?”
“The crew is all on the floor. I just want to make sure everyone is okay.”
