by Ellie Messe
ME: No, smart ass. I crashed at his place last night. He's sitting right next to me.
HALES: Does he hate me?
I don’t think he could hate her if he tried.
ME: IDK, doubt it. Y’all hump like a couple of rabbits. I think he’s just hurting a bit. Only way to find out is to read the message.
HALES: Gimme a sec.
“She’s reading your message now.”
He offers a nod but avoids looking at his phone, or me. I know it’s probably killing him that she’s talking to me and not him. After a few minutes his phone chimes.
“Hales?” He nods.
It isn’t until his face turns almost angry that I speak again, “What’s up?”
He shakes his head and shows me the message,
ME: I don't have words for how sorry I am. I'm sorry for leaving, I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for hurting your family, but most of all- I'm sorry for making you think you could trust me. Give it a day or so, when the memory starts to come back you'll be repulsed and thankful I left, it'll make getting rid of me that much easier. You don't have to be the asshole, Parker. I managed to do that part for you.
“The fuck?” I ask as he pulls it away, I watch his face as hurt and anger spill from his fingertips. Fuck, this probably isn’t going to end well.
ME: Seriously? There's no make-up sex when you guys piss each other off unless that weasel brother of yours was lying and you're still here.
HALES: I'm a very long way away from Phoenix. Not in the same time zone, let alone zip code.
Not in the same time zone, jesus.
ME: And what zip code would that be?
HALES: Nice try. And I need Parker mad. Makes shit easier if he hates me. The longer he holds out hope I'm coming back the longer he's going to be hurting. Once reality hits him of what y’all saw, he’ll reconsider. I'm just putting a little distance up in the meantime.
Taking the phone I hand it to Parker who reads over her words, “Told you she doesn’t mean it.”
I get zilch response as he goes back to his own phone.
ME: You're in a different time zone. I think you took the distance thing a little too literal, sunshine.
Parker’s mouth starts to raise and the pit in my stomach starts to shrink.
“Y’all good?”
He chuckles a little as he types. “No, I’m pissing her off.”
“Why is that funny? I thought the goal was get her to come home, not validate her leaving.”
“She can pretend to be mad all she wants, but this is the way to keep her texting. She has to have the last word, especially when she’s pissed.”
I watch as his smile turns sinister.
“I’ll be back.”
“Kay.” It sounded more like a question as I watch him walk down the hall. He’s up to something.
HALES: What's Parker doing?
ME: IDK. Headed off to his room, why? You and hubs having a fight?
HALES: I don't know. I'm really confused. I'm waiting for him to freak out or tell me to go fuck myself but instead he's telling me he's gonna seduce me for payback.
I cringe at the phone before glancing down the hall.
ME: EW. One, rude. Two, that's my brother you're talking about. Three- is that a real thing? Wait, no- I don't want to know.
Okay, I kinda wanna know, but I don’t cause that’s my brother and best friend.
HALES: I don't know if it's real. But I'm nervous. Can I ask you a question?
ME: Yep.
Ask if we’ll come pick you up, ask if we’ll come pick you up.
HALES: You see my arm?
Fuck, I was really hoping she’d ask to come home. I can’t help the disappointment as it fills my stomach.
ME: Nope.
HALES: Are you lying?
ME: Yep.
HALES: Parker says he doesn't care. Just- mentally prepare me, is he about to get revenge or does he really not care?
Not care? The girl looks like her arm got lopped off with a weed whacker, sent flying into a blender and thrown into the garbage disposal. Of course we care, someone tortured her. Blind rage kind of care.
ME: I think he cares the same way I care so I don't know what you mean by get revenge.
HALES: Last guy that saw them ran off but not before telling me just what he thought of me before doing it.
ME: What a dick! What's his name? I'm gonna track him down and beat him with his own dick.
I snap my fingers at the phone willing it to respond.
ME: You can't see it but I'm snapping my fingers at you.
I’ll totally do it, I just need a name and an address.
HALES: He was a John so I don't know.
ME: Jesus, there's like a million John's, it's like the most popular name ever.
HALES: His name wasn't John he WAS a John.
That’s a typo right? Please be a typo. When she doesn’t respond I go the naïve route and pray she corrects me.
ME: What, like a guy who buys hookers?
Parker enters the living room wearing a towel and a huge smile while grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. I don’t wanna know.
HALES: Ding ding ding. Feel free to stop responding when you figure it out.
ME: Not ignoring the fact you just admitted to being a prostitute but Parker just came down the hall in only a towel with a shit eating grin on his face.
I watch Parker walk back down the hall to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. I shudder at the thought of what it is they’re talking about… or doing.
ME: So you're a hooker, huh?
We’ve already established I’m an asshole, remember?
HALES: Jesus. No, I am not hooker. Thanks though, your confidence in me just makes me soar.
ME: Good, I try. I'm gonna want names of every asshole involved. I've got some errands to run, might as well eat the miles in Josh's truck while I've got it.
I sit here staring at the read receipt. THIS GIRL. If she was here I might actually be strangling her. You can’t tell me you were a hooker and then go silent, rude much?
ME: Growing old here. Names, Hales. Now.
HALES: John, John, and maybe a Johnny? I don't fucking know. They don't give their names. They paid my dad and off I went. I'm super regretting telling you by the way.
ME: Well, you shouldn’t. I love you no matter what, even if you do like taking dick left and right. ;)
All communication ends at that point. Nothing. Minutes tick by and not a damn peep. I quickly message her again,
ME: I was totally kidding dude.
ME: Real life, I’m sorry. I’m an asshole, I know.
My heart starts to speed in my chest as panic sets in. Oh fuck, me and my big fucking mouth.
“Fuck!” I hear Parker yell from his bedroom right before my phone vibrates.
HALES: My phone is being deactivated. I'll call you tonight.
ME: Whoa, what?
ME: Hales, talk to me. What do you mean?
Silence.
“What happened?” I ask when Parker comes out of his room.
“I don’t fucking know.” He throws his phone onto the couch as he begins to pace, his hands threading into his hair. “I thought I had her, dude. I thought I pulled her back and she fucking took off again.”
“What do you mean took off?”
“She escaped into her head again. I got her fucking ‘goodbye forever’ text and then she disconnected her phone.”
“Can we trace her?”
“I have no idea.”
“Call Josh, see what he can do. At least we know she’s safe though, right? It’s better than the silence.”
His body stills and I feel his words before he even says them. “I don’t think she’s coming back, Drew.”
“Don’t give up.” I bite out. She has to return, I don’t think any of us are going to survive this if she doesn’t.
“I’m not.” His voice is defeated and for the the first time in years I feel like he lied to
me.
“She’s coming back. We’re gonna find her and drag her back by her hair if we have to.”
“God.” He shakes his head, “I hope you’re right.”
Neither of us heard anymore from Hales. Josh is still attempting to locate her using her phone on some software but I don’t know how any of that works and apparently he needs some sort of MEID number to do it. The more it failed the more desperate I felt, I couldn’t handle it so I went home.
She said she’d call and I’ve more or less given up on that happening until my phone lights up on kitchen counter. Placing the container of chicken down, I answer the unknown caller.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's me."
"Hales?"
"Yeah."
"What the fuck, dude? Are you okay? That douchebag didn't fucking leave you in the middle of nowhere, did he?"
"No, I'm about to board my bus. I just wanted to call you before we left. I don't know the next time I'll be able to, so.." She trails off and I’m scared I’m going to lose her again.
"What's up with your phone? Do you need me to send you money?"
Pain rips across my chest when she giggles, "No. I'm fine."
"So what happened?"
"I can't come back, Drew. I can't. I want to, you'll never understand just how bad I want to, but I can't."
This is her goodbye… this can’t be the end. Pacing the hallway, my body sags with the added weight.
"Where are you headed? Parker and I can come to you, Hales."
"He knows who you are and he knows he can use you to find me, so the best way to protect everyone is to keep you out of this."
"Not if we're smart about it."
"It won't work. Kaylan and I are going to have to split ways soon because the risk is higher when we're together. It won't work, I wish it could- but it can't."
"Then tell me what to do, Hales. I don't care what it is, if we have to rent a fucking private jet and move to Bora Bora, we will. You just have to tell us what to do."
"I'm sorry, I have to go." Her voice breaks and I all I want to do is climb through the phone.
"Haley- please don't. Not yet."
"Drew, I have to."
"When does your bus leave?"
"It's boarding."
"Liar."
"No."
"Yes, you are. You just don't want to sound weak on the phone cause you're crying. Cry, dude. Cry if you're sad, but don't stop talking to me just because of it."
"I really do have to go."
"You haven’t even asked about what happened with that biker chick." Obviously nothing but I’m desperate to hold onto her.
"What biker chick?"
"Remember that one that ran you over at HEAT?"
"Oh, yeah the bitchy one."
"Yeah, her. Got her number, yesterday." Okay, so I’m lying, sue me.
"Congratulations, when's the wedding?"
"We decided to skip the ceremony and go straight to the honeymoon. Taking her out tonight."
"Don't wear that flannel shirt."
"What? That's my lucky shirt, of course I’m going to wear it."
"Trust me. Wear the grey one. Makes you look hotter." She laughs.
"DAWH, you think I'm hot. I knew it! Still wearing the flannel though."
"Ask Parker if you should wear the flannel, then when he laughs ask him why."
"EEEEEWWWWWW. NO, YOU DIDN'T!! I'm wearing it right now you, jackass!" She laughs harder as the phone beeps in my ear.
"I'm out of quarters. I gotta go."
"Get a phone, Hales. Please. Not only because I'll have the opportunity to chew your ass out about bumping uglies in my shirt but because I'll know you’re safe if you have one. I'm really not cool with you travelling without one."
"I have a phone, it's just...not in use at the moment."
"Why? For real, do you need money?"
"I can't talk to Parker, Drew. I just can't. This is hard enough and after what I said to him earlier, I don't think I can handle hearing what he has to say."
"Parker was pissed earlier, but not at you. He tried tracing your phone but couldn't do it without knowing your phone's info and shit-"
"Hey, Drew. The phone’s gonna die and I have to say goodbye this time."
So this is what panic and desperation feels like.
"No- Haley! Goodbye means I'm not seeing or hearing from you again!"
"You're my best friend."
"Haley- fuck. Please, don't."
"Bye, Drew."
“I love you Haley, this isn’t goodb-“
"What?"
"I said, I love you and this sure as shit isn't goodbye. You call me when you can."
I fear the line dies before her whisper floats through the line. "Bye."
"Later, sunshine."
I throw my phone onto my bed before punching the wall. It’s childlike but I don’t care. I’m beyond frustrated, my best friend might be gone forever and I’m somehow capable of blaming myself for it. I can’t fucking lose her, dude. I just can’t.
Chapter Eleven
Drew
I haven’t heard from Haley in two days and I haven’t gotten laid in five. For a man as hungry as I am, that’s fucking torture. My shitastic mood has been witnessed by all and everyone keeps their distance. They’re not dumb, they’re aware something’s going on, Haley hasn’t been into work, and with Josh, Parker and I in such awful moods- I have a feeling our secret keeping skills are shit at this point.
Want to know what doesn’t help my mood? Fucking Alice Donovan and the fourth glass she’s broke tonight. I hate this prissy bitch with a fiery passion.
Stepping away from the shards, I glare at her.
“Sorry.” She says without an ounce of sincerity.
“Get the fucking broom and clean this shit up. Your done after that, go home.”
I’m awarded with that rich bitch scoff, “I know you like to pretend to be the boss because your uncle owns the place, but you’re not. So take that tone somewhere else.”
“I am your boss. So clean this shit up and get the fuck out.”
“Screw you, Drew.”
Rage floods my system and I have a hard time remembering why throwing a woman across the room is frowned upon.
“Stop being a mega cunt, Alice.” Danica steps forward with a broom and dustpan. “He owns a third of this club so you better watch yourself.”
“Yeah right.” Alice rolls her eyes while filling a shot glass.
“Alice.” I warn, looking down at the mess.
“What?”
“You know what? Fuck it. Go home, you’re done, clock out.”
I try to take the broom from Danica but she pulls it away from me, “Collin’s at my station, if you’re sending her home then you need to man this one. I got this.”
“He’s not sending me home.”
“Watch yourself or I’ll fire you.” I point at her while pressing the extension to Josh’s office on the bar phone.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s me. I’m sending little miss attitude home. Four shattered cups and a stick up her ass.”
Alice glares daggers into me while I talk.
“Okay? Why are you calling me then?”
“Oh cause Beverly Hills says I don’t have the power, I just like to pretend cause you own the place. She apparently needs to hear it from the man himself.”
“Like I don’t have enough fucking drama,” he sighs angrily, “put her on the phone.”
Handing the receiver to Alice, I step around Danica and continue handing out drinks.
“You alright?” Danica asks, sweeping away the glass at my feet.
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t look fine. In fact you kinda look like an asshole.”
I chuckle a little. Leave it to her to call me on my shit. “I got a lot on my mind.”
“Does it have anything to do with why Haley hasn’t been here?”
I want to avoid the question but it’s goin
g to send me to an early grave if I hold this shit in anymore. “That’s a big part of it.”
“And is the other part the fact you haven’t been getting laid?”
My movement halts as I face her, “How would you know that?”
She openly laughs, resting her weight against the broom in her hand, “Please. You come in with a story to tell almost every night, not to mention there’s usually a blonde on the back of your bike when you leave. The past couple of days you’ve been quiet and leaving alone. Two plus two is four.”
“Why don’t you fix that then?”
“Just say when,” She shrugs with a secret smile, “You know I’m always down.”
My mouth curves into a small smile. “What are you doing tonight?”
“You, it looks like.” She smiles wide before walking off to empty the bin.
If I have any hope at all of relieving this stress Danica’s the way to accomplish it.
Throwing her against the door, her eyes light up while my fingers wrap around her throat before slamming my mouth to hers. Our teeth clash as our tongues delve in search for the emptiness we both crave.
I have rules when it comes to women: they’re blonde, busty, and a one time thing. There’s no cuddling, no pillow talk, no morning coffee. We have fun and off they go. Those rules don’t apply to Danica. She’s got shoulder length black hair with blue streaks, piercings, and a great ass.
She’s also the very definition of a fuck buddy. There are no strings, no commitments, nothing. A girl after my own heart, well she would be if she wasn’t into pain. No, no you heard me right. Sweet, kind Danica gets off from pain- literally. It’s not my thing, but every now again I can stomach getting a little rough when shit gets too real.
Pulling my mouth away from hers I look down at her, “Get naked.”
This girl has a great ‘sex smile’. You know? The one where it’s kinda evil, kind of hot and a whole lot of sexy.
Her eyes stay on mine as she unlaces her corset and drops it to the floor. Kicking her jeans off she stands before me gloriously naked. I’ve always appreciated the no undergarments kind of girls. In no stretch of the imagination could she be considered overweight but the girl has curves for days. Thick thighs, soft middle, and a great rack. I’m a happy man at the moment, the strain in my jeans can vouch for that.
“Get on the bed.”
