by JL Paul
“How about a walk?” I asked as I located his leash. His barks grew higher in pitch.
I clipped the leash to his collar and let him pull me out the door.
As I walked, my mind wandered, rolling through recent events. I realized that everything had started falling apart after that first night with Collin.
"No, that's not true," I mumbled to myself as Otis paused to sniff a fire hydrant. "It started falling apart after I figured out that I was in love with Collin."
A wry smile drifted across my face. I'd known all along that love was nothing but a hassle. Look what had happened to Irelyn and that she'd gone through last year? And now this.
Tiring of the fire hydrant, Otis yanked on the leash, urging me forward. My feet followed while my mind was still lost in some crazy world.
I'd been stupid to think that I could easily fall in love and live happily ever after. I'd never been that type of person. People certainly didn't look at me that way. I was Bailey, the chick that flitted from man to man, never settling down. When I tried, I just wreaked havoc on those around me, leaving pain and anger in my wake.
"That's just it," I said as Otis finally found an acceptable spot to do his business. "I need to stop this insane idea that I'm in love and go back to the way I used to be. I'll go out tonight and find someone to help me forget Collin and everything else."
With a plan in mind, I dutifully cleaned up after the dog and coaxed him back to the condo.
***
After a long, pampering bath, I dressed in a short skirt and a white halter. I shoved my feet in two inch stilettos, painted my face, and brushed my hair into a sleek, dark curtain down my back. Satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed my phone, bag, and keys before heading out the door.
Not wanting to go to Rusty's, even if it was open on a Sunday, I decided to head to the outskirts of town. I had to use my phone to give me directions to the little club Spencer had talked about several times but had never taken me to it.
The Tail Feather Club was a story building with a gravel parking lot and not a whole lot of charm. The outside was sided like a house and could almost pass for one except for the gaudy neon sign of a chicken shaking its tail feathers blinking in the window.
It took my eyes a few minutes to get accustomed to the dim, smoky interior, but once they did, I was able to make my way to the horseshoe bar in the center of the room. Taking a seat, I turned to check out the dance floor near the back but several wood pillars obstructed my view. I had to lean to my left to see the sparse group out on the floor, enjoying the beat of some unfamiliar tune blaring from the jukebox.
To my right was a wooden staircase leading to the second floor. I could only wonder what was up there as a rope was stretched across the bottom step with a sign warning customers that only employees were allowed to cross.
"Can I get you something?"
Glancing over my shoulder, I smiled at the young guy tending the bar. He was sort of cute in a big, bulky way.
"Whisky and soda, please," I said with a wink.
The corners of his mouth turned up as he nodded. He mixed my drink with professional care and slid it to me. I paid him as I turned back to the bar to take a sip.
"Nice place," I said.
He lifted a shoulder. "It's all right."
"How is it open on a Sunday?" I asked.
He pointed over his shoulder at a door next to the staircase. "Kitchen. We serve a lot of food on Sundays."
"I see," I said. My eyes darted to the tables that were near the kitchen door. Several people sat, eating burgers and other bar type of foods. My stomach gave a tiny grumble but I wasn't interested in that sort of sustenance.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing here alone?" the bartender asked.
I lifted a brow, amused. "Is that a pickup line?"
"No," he said rather quickly. "I just hate to see nice girls in a place like this alone. A lot of sharks in the water, if you know what I mean."
Laughing, I reached over the bar to pat his hand. "I appreciate your concern but I can take care of myself."
He grinned as he plucked a cigarette out of a pack and lit it. "I'm sure you can."
I nodded at the pack he'd set on the bar. "Can I bum one? I haven't smoked in awhile but I think a cigarette would be mighty fine right now."
Picking up the pack, he offered me one. Once I pushed it in my mouth, he lit it for me, too.
"Thanks," I said. "What's your name?"
"Scooter," he said. "And you are?"
"Bailey."
"Nice to meet you, Bailey," he said, shoving an ashtray between us. "Now, are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"
"Slumming," I said, inhaling smoke that burned my chest. I tried not to cough. I'd never been a regular smoker and it had been awhile since I'd last had one, but this was really ridiculous.
"You're too pretty to be slumming," he said with such honesty that I actually believed he wasn't just trying to pick me up.
"Thanks. You're sweet," I said.
Before he could answer, a hand landed on my shoulder. "Well, look who decided to grace this place with her royal presence."
I set my cigarette in the ashtray before turning around to face Owen. "Like I told Scooter, here - I'm slumming."
Owen's smile lit up his face. He really was quite attractive - for a slimeball. "So glad you decided to slum in my place."
"Sure," I said as I rolled my eyes.
"Scooter, this beautiful young lady drinks on the house," Owen said. I didn't hear Scooter's reply.
"Thanks," I said as Owen took the barstool next to me. "I forgot that you own the place."
"It was my father's," he explained as he nodded to Scooter. "I take care of it now."
"Excellent," I said although I could care less. Still, he could probably prove to be a means to an end if I had the urge…
"Where are all of your friends?" Owen asked as his eyes scanned the bar. "Especially that cute, sweet quiet one? What was her name - Morgan?"
My skin crawled at the thought of him anywhere near Morgan. "She's not here."
His eyes danced in delight as he moved closer, a lecherous smirk on his face. "Is someone a little jealous? Huh? Does someone have a thing for little Owen?"
"I don't know who someone is but I'm guessing no," I said as I picked up my cigarette and took a drag.
He laughed as he placed a hand on my knee. "Ah, one of those hard to get chicks. That's okay - makes everything more fun."
I smashed my cigarette in the ashtray and blew the remaining smoke in Owen's face. "Where's the ladies' room?"
Still grinning, he pointed to the other side of the staircase. I waggled a couple fingers at him as I made my escape. I needed to regroup.
Once inside the sanctity of the ladies' room, I gripped the edges of the sink as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My dark hair was immaculate but my hazel eyes held a look of sadness. I hated that. I needed to rid my body of all self-pity. Perhaps Owen was just the thing.
After washing my hands, I reapplied my lip gloss and reentered the bar. When I returned to my seat, Owen's glass was there but he was absent.
"Bailey."
I blinked as I met Scooter's worried eyes. He refilled my drink, glancing to the left and right.
"Stay away from him," he whispered as he leaned over the bar. "He's bad news. He treats women like crap."
I took the fresh drink from Scooter with a smile. "Thanks, hon, but I can take care of myself."
"I know you can," he said, anxiety all over his face. "But I've seen the girls that he's brought in here and I've seen what he does to them. He destroys them, Bailey. I mean, he really tears them up. He uses them in worse ways than you can imagine and when he gets bored with them, he just throws them away without a second thought."
Morgan flittered through my mind and I wondered, if Owen ever actually pursued her, if she'd be smart enough to stay away from him.
"Thanks for the warning," I said. "But I have no
intentions of letting that man ever do anything like that to me. I'm not the one man sort of girl."
His frowned drew deep lines in his forehead. "I don't see that. You look like a nice girl to me. That's why I don't want you getting mixed up with…you know."
His lips tightened as he edged back, grabbing dirty glasses from the end of the bar. Just then, Owen sat next to me again, placing a hand on the small of my back.
"Everything okay, darling?"
"Just peachy," I said as I tossed back my drink. "How about a shot of something good?"
Owen's white teeth sparkled as he grinned wide. "That's my girl." He motioned at Scooter. "Give me a bottle of tequila and two glasses. And not the cheap stuff, either. Bring us something good."
Scooter nodded as he rushed off to do Owen's bidding. He returned a short time later, setting a bottle on the bar, pushing shot glasses in front of us both. Owen poured and then gestured for me to lift my glass. I did.
"To good times," he said.
"Good times," I repeated and then downed the shot.
"Smooth," Owen said, slamming his glass on the bar. He refilled us immediately.
It didn't take long to get my head spinning out of control - especially after countless shots. My wits definitely weren't about me but I knew, the longer I was around Owen, that I didn't want to use him in any way. He was just too creepy.
"Let's dance," he asked, tugging me off my barstool. I followed him to the floor and allowed him to pull me close. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands inching closer and closer to my hind end.
"Watch it, buddy," I tried to warn but the liquor slurred my words, making them ineffective.
"You are so hot, Bailey," he whispered, his breath warm on my cheek. "I wanted your friend, Morgan, but you are so much more woman than she could ever be."
"Nah, she's so much better than me," I said, fisting his shirt to keep from slipping out of his arms and crumbling to the dance floor. "Better."
He laughed as his hands slid further down. "I don't know about all that. Sure, those nice girls are fine, but when you want to have a good time, that's when you hook up with women like you."
My fuzzy mind wasn't sure exactly what he was saying. "What do you mean? Like…a whore?"
His laughter increased. "Call it what you will, but whore is an ugly word. I prefer 'fun girls'. I think it has a nice ring."
"So, I'm a fun girl and not a nice girl?" I asked.
His smile faltered. "I'm sure you're nice, too." He nodded over my head. "How about we go upstairs and you can show me how fun and nice you are?"
"But the sign said no one can go up there," I said.
His eyes crinkled in amusement. "Everyone knows that the upstairs is for those who want to have fun. Do you want to have fun?"
"I don't think so," I said as I wriggled out of his embrace. "I think I need to go home."
He followed me back to the bar where I located my bag. "Oh, come on, Bailey. You know you want to go up there. Spencer told me that the two of you were never serious - that you'd go out for awhile and split up and then get back together. I know girls like you get bored. I don't mind. I'll show you a good time and then you can come back anytime you want."
I had to get out of there. His words were tearing a hole in my already fragile heart. "Thanks, but I need to go."
"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug and an angry glint in his eye. He leaned closer. "But you'll be back. Girls like you always are." He stalked away, drink in hand, and I released a breath.
"Are you all right, Bailey?" Scooter asked.
I nodded as I retrieved my phone and keys from my bag. "Yeah. I just need to go home."
"I don't think you should drive," he said.
He was probably right. The problem was, who to call. My two best friends hated me, Spencer would have a fit, and Collin…well, Collin seemed to be my only bet. With a sigh, I dialed his number.
"Bailey," Collin said. "Where are you?"
"Tail Feather Club," I slurred. "Can you come get me?"
He swore vehemently, making me wince. "I'm on my way. Stay away from Owen, do you hear me? Don't let that bastard lay a finger on you."
"Yeah, okay," I said. I hung up my phone and slumped on the bar.
"Here."
I looked up to see Scooter sliding a cup of coffee under my nose.
"Thanks, Scooter," I said as I sipped the strong brew. "You're too nice to work here."
He winked. "Did you call someone to come get you?"
I nodded. "Yeah. He's on his way."
"That's good. Just sit here by me until he gets here," Scooter ordered. "I'll keep an eye on you."
I was so tired of people - especially men- trying to take care of me. But Scooter, he was different. Sweet.
"Thanks, Scooter."
It took Collin nearly twenty minutes to get there but I still hadn't sobered up, although Scooter kept feeding me coffee.
"Bailey," Collin sighed when he found me. He lifted a brow at Scooter. "Does she have a tab?"
"She's taken care of," Scooter said. "Just get her home safely."
"Thanks, man," Collin said as he wrapped an arm around my waist. He helped me to his SUV and buckled me in. "How are you feeling?"
"Not very wonderful," I said as I rested my cheek against the cool glass of the passenger door window. "Not very wonderful at all."
"I'll take you to my place, okay?" he said. "I don't want to leave you alone in this condition."
"Sure," I said as I drifted on a wild sea of drowsiness. I slipped under for what seemed like seconds but the next thing I knew, Collin was shaking me gently, ordering me to wake up.
"Come on, Bailey," he said as he eased my body out of the car. "Let's get inside."
Once we stepped into the living room, my stomach rolled and I made a mad dash to the bathroom. I heaved nothing but tequila - everything burning my throat on the way up, tears slipping from my eyes.
Once I flushed, Collin materialized. "Better?"
"Not much," I admitted. I stood on wobbly legs. "I need a shower, I think."
With a slight nod, he closed the lid of the toilet, made me sit, and left the bathroom. He came back seconds later with two towels.
He turned on the shower, fiddling with the water until he got the temperature just right, and then turned back to me.
"Let's get you undressed."
"I like the way you think," I said, my head woozy.
"I know," he replied as he helped me up and undressed me.
He quickly shed his clothes and assisted me into the shower. Holding me up under the spray, he kissed me.
“Thanks for this,” I said. “It’s not very sobering but I’ve been fantasizing about showering with you for awhile now.” I hiccupped. “Of course in my fantasies, I wasn’t drunk and there was a lot more rubbing and suds involved.”
"Some other time, then," he said, holding me closer. "Promise."
My hands slid up his chest to connect behind his neck. I rolled to my toes to press a kiss to his lips. "How about now?"
He kissed me back, a chaste kiss, and shook his head. "Now is not a good time."
My heart wilted. "I understand."
"No you don't," he said, giving me a squeeze. "I can see it in your face. Bailey, trust me when I say that I want you very much right now, but you're very drunk and I don't think it's a good idea. I'd rather not take advantage of you in this condition."
I tried to smile but my lips refused. Instead, a torrent of tears escaped my eyes.
"Bailey," Collin said, hugging me to his chest while rubbing my back. "Don't do that. I promise you that some other time, we'll definitely try the shower thing. I'm not putting you off - I just don't want to do anything like that while you're drunk."
"It's not that," I muttered between sobs. "I…this is all a mess."
"It seems like that now," he soothed. "But it's all right, really. We'll get this mess sorted."
I couldn't speak - could only sob. I was faintly aware of
Collin shutting off the water and wrapping us both in towels. He led me to his bedroom where he dressed me in one of his t-shirts before tucking me in his bed.
My tears began to subside as he crawled in beside me. I burrowed into his side.
"Bailey, please don't cry," he said.
"Sorry," I muttered.
He stroked my hair as I tried to compose myself. "What's with the tears?"
I shook my head. "I'm not a whore, Collin."
"Of course not," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of my head. "I know you're not. All of your friends know you're not, too."
"I think deep down my friends do think that," I said. "I think deep down everyone thinks that there's not much Bailey wouldn't do."
He held me tighter, pressing my ear against his chest. I could make out every beat of his heart. "I don't believe that, Bailey. I don't think you're like that at all. I think there's a lot of fire inside of you, but I don't think you spread that fire out."
I had to chuckle at that. It was cute. And sort of sweet.
"Thank you, Collin."
"You bet," he said, kissing the top of my head again. "You need to get some sleep."
My eyes fluttered shut as my muscles started to relax. Collin's arms loosened but didn't drop away from me.
"I want people to know the truth," I mumbled.
"The people who are closest to you don't need to know the truth," he said. "We know the real Bailey and we like her just the way she is."
In the dark, I smiled as I drifted away in an alcohol induced slumber.
Chapter Twelve
Consciousness threatened to expose my very nauseous body to supreme torture. I grabbed a pillow and held it over my head to soften the blows that were hammering away inside it. I didn’t know why I always thought drinking excessively would solve my problems – all it ever did was get me into more trouble and make me horribly ill the next day. Too bad I always forgot that important lesson when I hit the bars. What an idiot.
The previous evening rolled through my head like some stupid movie stuck on repeat. Another thing about my drinking binges was that I always remembered everything. That came in handy most times – but other times, not so much.
I remembered the shower with Collin and my heart leapt. I also remembered trying to seduce him but he'd turned me down. I hoped he hadn’t been lying when he'd said it was due to the fact that I was totally shit-faced.
