Follow You Down

by K. B. Webb

  “Fuck you, Lucas. You don’t know shit about her.”

  “Really, Logan, I don’t know shit about her? She’s a fucking woman. She will hurt you like all women do. You need to start taking care of yourself, man, because I’m getting real tired of having to babysit you and your emotions all the goddamned time. Get it together, Logan. She has a fucking boyfriend that she chooses to live with! If she wanted to be with you, she would. Quit falling for her poor pitiful me bullshit and man up.”

  “Man up? That’s your advice. What? Should I be like you, Lucas? Fucking random chicks and constantly cutting down everyone around me who tries to have an actual relationship. Is that what you mean by man up? I should be like Jack Wade? Like father like son, right?”

  Motherfucker. How did one conversation about Molly turn into my own brother comparing me to the man I hate more than any other person? The one person whose death I would fucking celebrate.

  “You’re going to compare me to Jack? After all the shit I’ve done for you, that’s what I get? You blowing this whole thing out of proportion and comparing me to that shithead. Get the fuck out of my truck, Logan. I know you’re my brother, but right now I want to beat your fucking face in. Get the fuck out of my truck.”

  “Hit me, Lucas. Just another reason that you’re just like Jack.”

  I don’t think about what I’m doing; I just act. I get out of the truck and walk to the passenger’s side, flinging the door open, and dragging Logan out into the parking lot. I grip his collar in my hands and slam him into the side of the truck. Right now, more than anything, I want to hit him. How did this night turn from amazing to total shit so quickly?

  “Hit me, Lucas. I know you want to. I can see it in your eyes.” He’s pushing my buttons on purpose. Trying to get a reaction out of me, but I won’t let him. If I ever laid a hand on Logan, I would never forgive myself.

  “You know what, Logan? I’m not going to hit you. I really fucking want to, but I won’t. I’m going to let you walk right back in there and play the happy couple with someone else’s girlfriend. Let you be delusional for a while. And you can think I’m like Jack all you fucking want to, Logan, but you know deep down that’s bullshit. I’m the only fucking person who has always had your back. So you can get pissy with me for voicing my opinion, but you know I’m fucking right, Logan.” I shove him into the side of my truck once more before letting go of his shirt and walking back to the driver’s side. I jump in and slam the door. I hear him cussing under his breath as he straightens his shirt out and walks back toward Ricky’s.

  I need to get some frustration out. I consider calling up Dani, but I know I can’t do that. She likely wouldn’t answer, and if she did, I doubt she would agree to an angry fuck.

  Despite my better judgment, I do the only thing I can think to do.

  I grab my phone, scrolling through contacts, knowing this is a bad idea. I hit dial and it only rings twice before she picks up. I don’t even give her time to speak. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Unlock the door and be naked on your bed when I get there. Got it?”

  Candice giggles, “Can’t wait.”

  I hang up the phone, put the truck in drive, and peel out of Ricky’s gravel parking lot.

  I really wish I was headed to fuck a girl with red hair and even redder cowboy boots, but right now, I’ll have to settle for a brunette in cheap stilettos.

  Dani’s right; I am an asshole.

  “So, how was your first night at work?” I’m sitting in front of my laptop, switching between sipping coffee and chugging Diet Coke. It’s what I like to call the breakfast of champions. My mother is drinking her coffee, black, and looking at me through the screen. She gives me the evil eye when she sees me place my coffee on the table and grab the Diet Coke.

  “It was… interesting.”

  “Interesting? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, two of the waitresses are really nice, I’m a terrible bartender, and I got asked out on a date.” I say everything in a rush as one run-on sentence, hoping she will miss the part I said about having a date.

  By the way her mouth pops open and her eyebrows shoot up; I know she didn’t miss it.

  “A date? Did you say yes? Is he good looking? What’s his name? Should I have your father do a background check?”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Yes a date. Yes, I said yes. His name is Lucas, and you don’t need to run a background check on him.”

  She smiles a half-smile at me over her coffee mug. “You didn’t say if he was good looking or not.”

  I was hoping she wouldn’t catch that part. “He’s fucking gorgeous, Mom. And kind of an asshole. I am so doomed.”

  She laughs at me. “No you aren’t, Dani. You’ll be fine. You’re young! You’re supposed to be going out on dates with hot guys, even if they are assholes.”

  “I thought you would be mad at me because of everything that happened with Reggie.” Reggie Donald, my married ex-boyfriend and the reason I moved to Monroe in the first place.

  “Honey, all of the drama Reggie brought into your life wasn’t your fault. Some of it you brought on yourself, but most of it, he piled on you. You were young and naïve and I would like to think you have learned from your mistakes. In fact, I know you have.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You told me about this Lucas boy. You didn’t tell me about Reggie for months because you knew that I wouldn’t approve. You knew what you were doing was wrong, so you hid it. You aren’t trying to hide anything now, so I know you’re learning.”

  My mother, always having faith in me even when realistically she shouldn’t. Have I learned my lesson? Who fucking knows? Part of me agrees with her. My relationship with Reggie changed me in many ways. When I met him, I was still the kind of girl who believed in fairy tales. Now, I know better. I’m not a fucking Disney princess. Prince Charming isn’t some fair-haired hero. He’s a jackass who feeds you bullshit just to get in your pants and breaks your heart without a second thought. Prince Charming is a fucker.

  “Dani, you need to forgive yourself, baby. Shit happened. You made some not so great decisions, but everyone does. Let it go, baby.”

  I smile halfheartedly at my mom. I know she’s right, but there is a part of me that will never forgive myself. I caused someone serious heartache without a second thought. In my book, that makes me a cold-hearted bitch.

  “Let’s talk about something else, Mom.” She nods and begins to tell me all about her new yoga class. My mother is a workout enthusiast. She has been on more diets than I can count, and she really doesn’t need to be. She has a naturally small frame, but she continually works out and watches what she eats to maintain it.

  We talk for a few more minutes about nothing special. This is the part of my relationship with my mom that I love; we can talk about anything. She’s my best friend, which is completely cheesy, but totally true. I finally tell her I’m going to try to get some more unpacking done before I have work tonight, tell her bye, and close my laptop.

  I spend the next few hours unpacking boxes throughout the house. My dishes are finally all in cabinets; my clothes are hung in my closet or placed in drawers, and pictures and books sit on my shelves.

  I pass by the spare bedroom and open the door, pausing for a second before I walk in. When I started searching for apartments, I insisted that I only needed one bedroom. But my mother disagreed, and being the kind of girl I am, I relented and bought the two bedroom. I figured I should spend the hush money Reggie paid me on something to establish my new life since he fucked up my old one, plus, I needed a workout room.

  I walk in the room and stare at myself in the wall adjacent from the door. It’s covered in a floor to ceiling mirror that takes up the whole wall. Against the far wall is a treadmill and elliptical. There are a few yoga mats, a set of free weights, and an exercise ball sitting in the corner. I haven’t been in this room since I moved all of the equipment in, but I quickly realize I need to spe
nd more time in here. I spot the silver pole in the center of the room and walk up to it, wrapping my hand around the shiny metal and walking around in a circle. When I decided to turn this into a workout room, I knew I had to have a stripper pole. It’s the best workout around, and part of who I am.

  I wrap my leg around the bottom of the pole, still holding it with my hand, and do a spin. The small spin leads to another; this time with more force and speed. I am instantly transported back to the main stage at Temptations, wearing nothing but a black pair of see-through boy shorts and black stiletto heels. Winding around a pole placed in the center of the stage, I watch men in designer suits throw hundreds on stage while I dance to Radioactive.

  I loved dancing. I loved the attention. I loved the money, but most of all, I loved the exhilarating feeling I got every time I stepped on stage. I had no insecurities, no worries. It was just me and the beat of the music as the rhythm worked itself through me.

  I realize I’ve been mindlessly dancing while day dreaming when I catch sight of myself in the mirror and am met with a reflection that has flushed cheeks and rapid chest movements as I try to catch my breath.

  That part of my life is over, and while I will always miss it, I have to start over at some point. Now, instead of dancing in front of crowds for hundreds, I’m dancing in front of a mirror just to prove to myself that I’ve still got it.

  Hours later, I’m standing in Ricky’s making sure everything is stocked and ready for tonight.

  Molly told me Thursday nights are usually pretty busy, so I’m in slight panic mode

  “So, Dani, what’s your story? You from around here?” Molly sits across from me, leaning over the bar.

  “Has anyone ever told you that your boobs are huge?” She chuckles and nods. “All the time, dude. I hate them though, so to me it’s not a compliment. Has anyone ever told you that you have a great ass?” It’s my turn to laugh. I have heard that quite often. From running so much, religiously doing squats, and dancing, my ass and legs are fuller than most girls’.

  “Lucas sure told her that last night.” Wynee walks in and plops down in the stool next to Molly, shoving her shoulder. Molly’s eyebrows knit together and she eyes me suspiciously. “I saw that. Lucas seemed to be paying you some special attention.” I was hoping they wouldn’t notice. I haven’t decided how I will handle the questions that I’m sure will arise when they find out I moved here from Dallas; now I’m having to deal with questions about Lucas. Questions I don’t have the answers to.

  “Special attention, my ass. The only reason Lucas even gave her the time of day is because he hasn’t fucked her yet. Once she puts out, which she will soon, he’ll get bored with her. Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.” Fucking Tiffany. I’ve only known this girl for twenty-four hours and I already can’t stand her. Fake blonde hair, fake blue eyes, fake boobs, the only thing real about this girl is her bitchy personality.

  “Go fuck yourself, Tiffany. Just because Lucas has been rejecting you for years doesn’t mean you have to be a bitch to Dani.” Wynee pops off at Tiffany before I even have a chance to respond.

  “I’m not being a bitch, Wynee. I’m just speaking the truth. And you and I both know that if I really want someone, they won’t reject me. Maybe I should test that theory out on Justin.”

  I’m waiting for Wynee to flip the fuck out on Tiffany for even mentioning her boyfriend, jump from her stool, and punch Tiffany square in her slut mouth, but she doesn’t. She just laughs. “Sweetie, go right ahead and test it out. Justin wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, and you know it. But if you want to add some more rejection to your growing pile, go right ahead, give it a shot.”

  Tiffany opens her mouth, but quickly shuts it; then storms off through the double doors toward the kitchen.

  “So,” Molly claps her hands together, drawing Wynee and my attention away from the doors Tiffany just walked through, “why was Lucas behind the bar last night anyway?”

  “Well, he saw me struggling and offered to help me. He’s giving me bartending lessons.” I shrug my shoulders, trying to play off the interaction between Lucas and me.

  “Oh, please!” Molly laughs and shakes her head. “Dani, I may not know Lucas that well, but I know he wouldn’t just offer to help you without getting something in return. So, what does he get out of this whole deal?”

  “I might have agreed to go on one date with him. Just one!”

  “Sure, Dani. Just one.”

  Wynee cuts in, “Tiffany may be a jealous bitch, but she is kind of right about Lucas. He is known for sleeping with random girls and never settling down. He doesn’t do relationships; he just fucks. Just don’t get your hopes up.” She smiles at me and walks away with Molly on her heels.

  I think Wynee was worried her remarks about Lucas would hurt me, disappoint me in some way, but it actually had the opposite effect. I am in no need of a relationship, but I am in serious need of a good fuck, and I think Lucas Wade is just the man to give it to me.

  I feel like shit today. And I look like shit. I know this because that is the first thing my boss says to me when I walk into work.

  “Damn, Wade, you look like shit. Did you even sleep last night?” Chris, my boss, is also my friend. Sometimes. If I fuckup at work, he will rip me in two, but as long as I’m good at my job, which I am, he’s cool and cuts me slack when I need it.

  “Thanks, Chris. How about you keep the smartassness to a bare minimum until I get a few cups of coffee in me.” He laughs and walks out on the loading dock, slamming the door to the office loudly and laughing when he sees me close my eyes and hold my head in pain. Fucker. I fix my first of many cups of coffee and head out to the dock, ready to start my day.

  I work as a dockhand for a trucking company and have since right after college. Most people would ask why the hell I was working manual labor when I had a business degree, but I have never really had a good answer for that. I loved college, loved my business classes, but once I graduated, I quickly realized the business world wasn’t for me. I am not, and never will be, a suit and tie kind of person. I like manual labor, shirts with cut off sleeves, and my work boots. I like being outside in the Louisiana summer heat and sweating my ass off daily. I fucking love my job.

  The day goes by in a blur. I spend most of it on a forklift, dripping in sweat, loading and unloading freight off the dock onto incoming trucks, and making friendly conversation with the truck drivers.

  Chris has been trying to get me to get a CDL certification to move up to a driver for a few years now, but I keep putting it off. My mother says it’s because I refuse to fully grow up. She’s right, and I know it. I have partially grown up. I have a good job that pays the bills, my own apartment, my own truck, and I go see my mother at least once a week. I’ve settled down in those ways. But in my mother’s mind, settling down means having a real relationship. I don’t fuck with relationships. I still party into the early morning and like to get my dick wet as much as possible. See, partially grown up.

  “Day’s done, Lucas. Go home and shower off the booze you sweated out today.”

  “Ha ha, Chris, very funny.”

  “You gonna stay in tonight, or can I expect a repeat of today tomorrow?”

  I laugh at Chris while clocking out for the day. “Stay in! What the hell does that mean? Its thirsty Thursday, Chris. I plan to do what I do best tonight, drink and make the ladies swoon.” I flash one of my cocky smiles at Chris and am met with an eye roll and a shake of the head.

  “Well, little buddy, just make sure you wrap it up and you’re on time in the morning.” Chris says to me as we walk out the office door, heading toward our trucks.

  “Aren’t I always, boss man?” He nods at me, jumps in his truck, driving home to his wife and son. He will go home to a hot meal, a woman who loves him, and a son who looks up to him, and I’ll go home to a frozen chicken potpie and a brother who is likely still pissed off at me. I’m okay with that though. After I eat my potpie and deal with my baby
brother, I get to go see the redhead who has been on my mind all day.

  I drive home thinking of Dani, like I have for most of the day. Trying to concentrate on driving a forklift on and off an eighteen-wheeler is a little difficult when you’re hard as a rock and daydreaming of red cowboy boots.

  I’ve been wondering why this girl is still in my head. I fucked Candice last night, and while, yes, she was a good lay as always, I still had Dani on my mind. For every sweet moan that came out of Candice’s mouth, I wondered what Dani’s moans sounded like. When Candice dug her fake nails into my back while I pounded into her, I wondered if Dani was a scratcher. I may have come while I was fucking Candice, but I was thinking of Dani while I did it. Fucked up on every level, yes. But the dick wants what it wants, and mine wants Dani.

  I pull into my driveway, throw my truck in park, and readjust my dick, which has gone hard due to thoughts of Dani. I walk into my apartment and see Logan sitting on our couch pulling on his boots. He’s getting ready to head to Ricky’s to see Molly like he does every day. I need to apologize, but I don’t know where to start. I meant what I said to him last night; I think he’s in way too fucking deep with Molly. But I know Molly is a good girl, and I know she cares for my brother, even if she is in a relationship with Brian. Do I understand how Logan and Molly’s relationship works, no, but it’s not my fucking business.

  I sit across from Logan and get ready to apologize, but I don’t get the chance.

  “Look, Lucas, I’m sorry for the shit I said last night. You’re not like Jack; I know that. I’m just, well, I’m trying to work through some shit with Molly, and I just wasn’t ready to hear what you said last night.” That’s my little brother for ya, apologizing when he doesn’t need to and thinking with his heart instead of his head. I love him for it, even if I do think he’s a little too soft.

  “Naw, Logan, you don’t need to apologize to me. I don’t know you and Molly’s situation, and she isn’t a bitch. She’s a good girl. I just think you need to remember that she’s someone else’s girl. I know that’s hard for you to understand, but it’s the truth, brother. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” I’ve been looking out for Logan all of his life, and even though he’s grown, old habits die hard.