by Amira Rain
Nikki's red-haired pipeliner was gone, as was a pipeliner that Liz had been hanging on all evening. The double table group had an addition, though, with the man who'd been the odd man out of the unevenly-numbered group of pipeliners and attractive women up at the bar. Now these six pipeliners who remained looked at me intently, to say the least, while I made my way up to the bar, but I didn't care. I was going to say goodnight to Dana, and then I was going to go home, hopefully never seeing any of the pipeliners ever again.
When I reached Dana, she expressed surprise to see me, speaking loudly to be heard above a song probably put on the jukebox by one of the pipeliners, a song with fairly vulgar lyrics saying something about "gettin' lucky" and "gettin' rode like a horse."
"I thought maybe you'd taken off already."
Wishing that were the case, I shook my head. "No, I was just tied up in the bathroom, cleaning up a little vomit mess that Angie accidentally made. I'm taking off now, though, and I think I might actually do a little heel click once I'm out the door."
Setting a cleaning rag aside, Dana gave me a wry little smile. "Had enough of our classy little establishment, have you?"
I smiled in return. "Yeah. I think I've had enough of The Doodle to probably last me a few years. It was great to get to visit with you, though. You should stop by the gym if you ever want to take a Pilates class or a yoga class. I teach most of them, and I'll give you half off the class fee."
Dana smiled and started to say something, but she stopped in mid-syllable and went quiet for a second, looking over my shoulder, before speaking again. "Don't worry. I'll kick 'em out if they get too pushy or rowdy. Or, maybe I'll try to distract them for a second so that you can make your escape right now."
Wanting to follow her line of vision, I turned just in time to see all six of the remaining pipeliners strolling up to the bar. Knowing that they were all likely going to try to make a play for my attention, I quickly turned back to Dana. "I'll see you later. But are you okay in here with no locals for backup in case these guys get a little crazy?"
"Oh, I'm just fine. Just hit the road. I'll see you later."
Not entirely sure that I should leave her in the bar, I turned to leave, thinking that once outside, I'd make a call to her cousin Sarah, asking if she and her very physically fit construction worker husband John and their friends might want to come down to The Doodle for a drink. I'd worked with Sarah at the gym for several months before she'd quit, and I knew that normally on Saturday nights, she and her husband and their friends liked to have a few beers and sing karaoke at Harley's, just down the street, where I thought they might be at present.
However, not only did I not quickly make it out of The Doodle to place a call, I turned and hit a solid wall of chest. It was Green Shirt, the man who'd been rude to me earlier, and he was now blocking my way.
CHAPTER FOUR
Revealing yellowed teeth peppered with tiny dark holes I could only assume were cavities, Green Shirt grinned at me. "Where ya goin', sweetie? You still owe me a little lap-sit. Remember? You said that once you got over your shyness and had some more beer, you'd have a nice little sit right on ol' Randy's lap."
Obviously, I hadn't said anything of the sort.
"I'll even buy ya another beer if you want. Or are you ready for somethin' a little stronger now?"
I was ready to just about gag. "Ol' Randy's" breath smelled like whiskey and garbage.
I took a tiny step back, and I would have taken a larger one, but there was only a few inches between my back and the bar. "I'm leaving right now, and if any of you dare try to follow me, I will call the police."
I was surprised to hear the hint of a tremor in my voice, though maybe I shouldn't have been, considering that my heartbeat had begun thudding in my ears, and my hands had begun shaking just slightly. I wasn't exactly outright scared yet, maybe just getting there. I definitely wasn't used to being backed up against a bar by no fewer than six burly men.
In response to what I'd said, Randy snorted. "That one bitch was right...you really are a grandma."
Furious but somehow profoundly embarrassed at the same time, I made a move to try to bolt my way past him, but one of his friends immediately took a step to the right, blocking my path.
"Not so fast, darlin'. If you don't want to talk to Randy, that's fine, but there's five others of us who'll buy you a beer."
"Hey." From somewhere behind me, Dana had spoken. "Are you guys aware that there are places in this town where you can get your 'needs' met without having to corner women? If you go down to the very end of Bennett Avenue, you'll find an old blue house with a little sign on the door reading 'Therapeutic Massage Clinic.' In this house, there are three very nice women who'll-"
"We don't want any of those ugly, disease-ridden old whores." Randy had spoken, and now he continued in what could only be described as a snarl, to gaze at me. "We just want to chat with this pretty little filly for a bit. I just want to chat with her for a bit."
Behind me, Dana spoke in a voice completely devoid of tremor. "Well, you know what? She doesn't want to chat, and she is leaving. And if you don't let her pass, I'll kick you all out of the bar and ban you from returning for the rest of your time in Sandstone. And by the way, the chief of police is my uncle, and I've got him on speed-dial. I've got your boss on speed-dial, too, and I know he's been known to make misbehaving men sit out from work a week, losing a week of pay."
This took the glint out of the pipeliners' eyes. A few of them exchanged glances, and Randy scoffed, shrugging.
"Call whoever you want. We were about ready to leave this shitty bar and try one of the others anyway."
I discreetly breathed a sigh of relief, not wanting the pipeliners to know just how relieved I was. At the same time, any quiet sound from my exhale was drowned out by the sound of heavy footfalls on hardwood. Bootfalls, to be precise. The vulgar song on the jukebox had ended and another song hadn't started up, making the bootfalls seem nearly thunderous in the now-quiet bar. The mysterious man from out-of-town was approaching. In my anxious, borderline-fearful state, I'd honestly kind of forgotten that he even existed.
When he reached the group, he spoke in a voice even a bit stronger and more confident than Dana's had been. "Is there a problem here?"
Now I was afraid that there was going to be one, because something just told me that if there was one thing drunken pipeliners liked, other than harassing women, it was a bar fight. Although with six of them, and just one mysterious man, I wasn't sure it'd actually be much of a fight. It would probably be more of a six-on-one beating. I figured that while Dana called her uncle, I'd call 911, just to make absolutely sure we got help quickly.
With a sneer, Randy turned from me to the mysterious man. "Ain't no problem here. Me and the boys were just about to take this pretty little lady to a different bar, like she just asked."
"I never asked-"
"If you want to fight us for her, though, you're more than welcome. And, actually, since the little lady wants to go with me, in particular, you can just fight me only to make things fair. My boys won't jump in, nothin'. No bullshit, and no cops called, no matter what. Just me fightin' a dumb-ass who thinks he can stop me from takin' a pretty little lady where she wants to go."
The out-of-towner man stood with his face nearly expressionless. "All right. Step away from her, then, so we can fight."
Things were starting to feel like they were happening way too fast. Though honestly, they kind of had been all night.
I wanted to race out of the bar before the first punch was thrown, but at the same time, I didn't feel like I could or should leave Dana. Once the fight between the the pipeliner and the mystery man really got going, I was afraid that the other pipeliners might try to do something to hurt her.
Not that I had any clue what I could do to stop this if they did. But nonetheless, I didn't really feel like I could leave. I also didn't feel like I could take my phone out to call the police, either, afraid that this action mig
ht cause one of the pipeliners to react with anger or violence, making a bad situation worse.
In response to what the incredibly handsome mystery man had said, Randy Green Shirt did step away from me and made his way over to open floor space about ten feet away, never taking his narrow-eyed gaze from Mystery Man the entire time. "Think we should have the ladies move some of the tables to the side of the bar, partner? I'm just thinkin' that you might prefer to hit the floor rather than gettin' your head cracked open on a table."
While he moved to the open floor space as well, Mystery Man's expressionless expression didn't change at all. "No, I don't think we need any tables moved. This won't be a long fight."
My stomach was beginning to twist itself into knots, and I had long since started internally cursing myself for agreeing to accompany Nikki and the others to the bar. My fear was that Mystery Man was going to be injured while trying to fight on my behalf. I didn't think this because he wasn't tall and extremely muscular, because he definitely was both of those things.
I thought this because Randy was tall and extremely muscular, too, as well as just built brawnier than Mystery Man. A bit overweight to be sure, Randy probably had an extra thirty or forty or so pounds on Mystery Man, and I was afraid this would give him an edge in the fight. Also, despite all his drinking, Randy honestly didn't seem drunk at all, so that likely wouldn't help Mystery Man, either.
Turning to look at Dana, I was surprised to see her leaning over the bar on folded arms, with her expression just as calm and unperturbed as Mystery Man's, as if she was just simply ready to watch a good TV show or something. Knowing that she had her phone behind the bar, I mouthed Police? to her anyway, but she just gave her head a quick shake and mouthed back Not yet.
When Mystery Man invited Randy to "take the first swing," I cringed, sure that this invitation had been the wrong move. However, my cringe soon turned to an expression I was pretty sure was a mask of shock.
Randy did take the first swing, but Mystery Man dodged it easily, ducking, already beginning to lift his own fist at the same time. And his swing didn't miss. His fist connected with Randy's jaw with a loud thud, actually lifting Randy off his feet. Randy then flew backward at least a yard, landed on his rear, and rolled onto his back, groaning.
It honestly hadn't even looked like Mystery Man had put much effort into the punch. Swinging his arm from a ducking position, he certainly hadn't put his full strength into it.
Other than Randy's feeble groans, the bar was now so quiet a person probably could have heard a pin drop.
Mystery Man looked from Randy to the five other pipeliners, who were all still standing beside me. "Anyone else? Or are we all ready to act like adult men and simply let the lady leave the bar."
One of the pipeliners, a man with dark chest hair creeping out the neckline of his t-shirt, looked from Randy to Mystery Man, clearing his throat. "We're just gonna pull our friend over to sit at a table for a while, and then we'll be on our way. The girl can go wherever she wants."
Just then, a noisy group of three young-ish couples entered the bar, though their talking and laughing came to a sudden stop when they saw "Ol' Randy" laid out on the floor. Grunting and giving his head periodic quick shakes, he was trying to pull himself up to sit, though without much success.
One of the men in the group of new arrivals to the bar looked over to Dana and asked if the police needed to be called, but she just shook her head.
"Nope. Everything here got settled just fine. You could hold the door for my friend Alyssa, though, Doug. I think she's just about to take off, before anything gets all riled up in here again."
I didn't need a second prompt to leave the bar, and I all but flew out of it, horrified to feel my eyes filling with tears. Raking a hand across my face to wipe them away, I just nodded, breezing right by, when one of the women in the new arrival group asked if I was okay. I definitely wasn't, though, and by the time I reached the small parking area behind the bar, my tears had started coming so fast that I was wiping my eyes every second or two.
Thankfully, the well-lit parking area was deserted. I hated crying in front of people, hated showing blatant vulnerability, and I definitely didn't want to do that in front of some ladies who were my yoga students. Or worse, another former high school friend. I'd had just about all the "high school reunion" I could stand for one evening.
I wasn't even quite sure why I was crying. I supposed it was just because of the anxiety of the situation I'd just been in, with a half-dozen leering, burly men looking as if they wanted to drag me off to some cave by the hair or something. I might have been crying also because Randy saying that I really was a "grandma" had deeply embarrassed me for some reason. Some bizarre reason, because it wasn't like I really cared what he thought.
Nonetheless, maybe just because Nikki had kind of been low-level embarrassing and hurting me all day with her various "mom" and "grandma" comments, I was crying here. Something about Dana prompting me to leave the bar had also seemed to have helped to turn on my tear faucet as well, although I knew that my safety had been her only motive in saying what she had.
It was just that to the new arrivals to the bar, what she'd said might have possibly made it seem like I had somehow been responsible for whatever had just occurred in the bar that had resulted in a man being laid out on the floor, which of course had embarrassed me, just to think that the new arrivals might have thought that.
Additionally, I was embarrassed that some man from out of town, a complete stranger, had to "rescue" me from the pipeliner thugs, even though I had to admit, I probably had been in need of some sort of rescue. Which also embarrassed me. I supposed I was just crying a ton of "embarrassment tears," if that was a thing.
Sniffling and wiping my eyes, I paused next to my car for a few seconds before reaching to fish my keys out of my purse. My hand met only air, though, and that was when I realized that I didn't even have my purse.
"Dammit."
It was still in the bar, probably right on the bar stool where I'd left it before chasing Angie into the bathroom. Somehow I just hadn't thought to grab it before making my hasty exit out of the bar.
I definitely wasn't going to go back in; I knew that much. Crying even harder, simply out of frustration, I figured I'd probably just walk the mile or so back to my apartment. Sandstone wasn't completely without crime, by any means, but it wasn't necessarily an unsafe town, either, and walking seemed much better than the alternative, which was calling someone to get me.
Being that DJ was still out in California at this point, I couldn't call him, and as far as friends in town and co-workers, they all had small kids or babies, and I knew they probably couldn't just leave the house at a snap.
As far as my boss Betty, she was currently on a Hawaiian vacation, not that I would have wanted to call her to pick me up in the parking lot of The Doodle anyway. I'd just walk home.
However, before I could turn from my car and take a single step, a deep male voice coming from somewhere behind me, maybe across the parking lot, made me jump.
"Are you okay?"
It was Mystery Man.
CHAPTER FIVE
Furiously wiping my eyes, not wanting Mystery Man to see that I'd been crying, I turned toward him and nodded. "I'm completely fine. I'm just completely...." I paused for a deep breath, not knowing what I'd been intending to say. "I'm absolutely great right now."
After closing the distance between us, he came to a stop in front of me, frowning slightly. "Well, no one would blame you if you weren't absolutely great. No one would blame you if you were a little rattled."
Wiping my eyes again, I shook my head. "Nope. Not even rattled at all. I wasn't even afraid at all at any time in there, either. I'm the kind of female who can take care of herself. Everything was actually pretty much under control when you stepped in."
For some reason, it had become important to me to express to this man that I wasn't helpless and weak; however, I realized that what I'd said last had
probably come off as ungracious, which I hadn't intended it to be.
"I am grateful to you for getting all the pipeliners to officially back off, though. You didn't have to do that. Thank you."
In the fairly bright lights of the parking lot, the man seemed to search my face for a moment before responding, as if possibly surprised by my immediate smoothing-over of my ungraciousness. "You're welcome. I'm glad you're okay. I brought you out your purse, too. The bartender said she was pretty sure it was yours."
Slowly, as if he wanted to make it crystal clear to me that he wasn't going to makes any kind of fast moves on me out in the deserted parking lot, the man extended my tiny, cream-colored clutch purse to me. When he'd come over to me, I just simply hadn't seen it in one of his large hands. Maybe because my focus had been more on his strong-jawed face and his broad chest.
I took my little clutch purse from him, absolutely horrified to feel fresh tears welling in my eyes. "Thanks so much."
Maybe I was a little disappointed that checking on my well-being hadn't been the only reason he'd followed me out to the parking lot, and maybe it hadn't even been the primary reason. Upon seeing my purse, Dana had probably told him to catch up with me. He'd probably just asked me if I was okay out of politeness. I just wasn't sure why all this had made me cry harder for some reason.
Clutching my little purse, I raked the back of my hand across my eyes. "Sorry. My contacts are just completely bothering my eyes tonight. Which is strange, because normally they never make my eyes water, and never in front of other people. The last person my eyes watered around was my mom, right before she died, and that was like...four years ago or something."
