Every Little Dream (Second Chances) (13 page)

The door swishes open and a draft of cooler air rushes past, the smell of the ocean riding in with it. I see the legs first, then the short skirt. My eyebrows raise. The curves. The tight tee. The blonde hair.

Holy shit.

I choke back the beer I just swallowed. Katie? What the hell is she doing here looking like that? Her hair swirls down her back in loose curls. A girl her age walks in behind her, looking just as hot. I recognize her as the friend from the restaurant.
 

They giggle. Katie glances around, her hands twisting in front of her. Justine tugs her toward a stand-alone table near the bar. Her friend goes to order drinks.

Katie stands there, fidgeting. She’s such a virgin when it comes to this scene. It’s written all over every facial expression, nervous glance and shift of the feet. All I want to do is go to her and hold her, lead her onto the dance floor. She’d probably ignore me or slug me. Anyway, I have to keep to my oath to stay away until this is over. But my eyes can’t seem to leave her.

Her friend returns with drinks. Katie laughs, leaning forward, chatting. Her beauty shines and she doesn’t realize that every guy in the place will probably fantasize about her tonight before they fall asleep.

I look over at Kingston. It pisses me off the way he’s practically undressing her with his eyes. Lust gleams as he licks his lips, like a hungry wild cat before the kill.
 

Fuck.

I jump up from the table practically knocking it over and stride over to Katie before asswipe can make a move. This wasn’t my plan. I intended to stay hidden, just follow Kingston. This dick move will mess up everything.

She sees me approaching seconds before I get there. She tenses and sips at her drink, avoiding eye contact. The laughter dies on her lips. Immediately, her friend shoots daggers at me with her eyes. The contempt obvious in the way they both fold their arms across their chests.

“Wanna dance?” I ask, desperate.
 

“No.” She turns away, flicking her hair behind her shoulders.

“Please?”

Her friend pipes in. “Hey, get the point. She doesn’t want anything to do with you. You can be a jerk and then be sweet because you’re in the mood. Relationships don’t work that way.” Her friend’s all worked up, and I don’t blame her.

I hold up my hands. “I just want to talk. Then if you want, I’ll leave you alone.”

Her friend, Justine, I think, studies Katie. “I’m not your mom. Do what you want.”

Hurt flickers in Katie’s eyes and she appeals to Justine as if needing her support and approval. They seem to communicate without talking. A whole conversation with just a few looks. Finally, Justine nods. “Fine.”

Katie smiles at me, but it’s forced, not the sweet smile I’m used to that brightens her whole face and grabs my heart. I take her hand and lead her to the small dance floor. A slow song is playing and I place my hands around her waist. Just the feel of her beneath my hands turns me on, the smell of her body spray this close is intoxicating.
 

“What game are you playing?” she asks, her voice low and hard.

I sigh. “I’m not playing anything.”

“Right. What was last night then?”

“I don’t want you sucked into my shit right now.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kingston finish his shot and shift. He’s looking at us, at Katie. I slowly turn so my back is to him.

“Hate to break it to you but that’s what relationships are all about. I might not have the most experience but that much I know.” She interrupts the start of my response. “I know you’re keeping secrets. Am I just your plaything? A side dish to taste when you’re not banging other girls.”

“What?”

“I’m not stupid.” Her face flames.

Oh, God, this is about last night. She thinks I pushed her off because I didn’t want her? “About last night—”

“Hey, baby, this guy giving you a hard time?”

Kingston.

Katie stiffens in my arms. I sense her fear, thick in the air around us, and the panicked expression that she tries to hide. “No, thanks.” Her grip on my shoulders tightens, like she’s begging me to help her. “Where were we before we were rudely interrupted?”

“You heard her. Get lost.”

Kingston laughs. Then in a low voice so only we can hear, he says, “I’m going to break in and you’re both going to let me.” He traces a finger down Katie’s cheek. “Wouldn’t want to see this pretty face get hurt.”
 

Her eyes plead with me. I try and communicate I’ll take care of her, that somehow I’ll make sure she’s okay. Slowly, her fingers slide off my shoulders. I feel their slight tremble against my skin. A surge wells in my chest to protect her. I mean really protect her. Sure, I’m a player. I’ve had my share of girlfriends who didn’t last, but she’s the first one that might be worth holding onto. She tempers my rage.

But this guy? Kingston? He brings out a completely different reaction.

His arm snakes around her waist and pulls her toward him. Close. Pressed right up against him. “Hey, sweetness,” he says just loud enough for me to hear. His hand goes down to her ass and he pulls her even closer.

I turn away but the rage builds. It blinds and erases any rational thought. In a flash, I whip around, my fist aimed at his pretty face. I catch him off guard and hit his mouth. Blood trickles down his chin. He didn’t even try to duck out of the way.

The bartender yells at us to take it outside. Kingston nods toward the back door.

I back off. “Sorry, man. Won’t happen again.”

The bartender gives us one last glare before pouring more drinks. Kingston resumes his dance with Katie while I take a seat at the nearest table. She jerks back and forth in his arms. He’s whispering. Probably threatening.

Something’s off about this whole thing. It smells like a set-up. He didn’t even try to miss my fist, like he wanted it to happen, that a fight out back was part of the plan. Real fear roots in my chest. My heart races. I feel it stronger than ever, and it takes a lot to spook me. It’s not just my safety on the line. It’s Katie’s.
 

My father might not do anything but I need to call him. Tell him what’s going on. Maybe send over a bodyguard or something. Maybe this one time he’ll do a favor for me. Casually, I walk to the bathroom. My phone’s in my back pocket. Just a quick call is all I need. I push open the doors and head to the back stall. With shaky fingers, I punch in my father’s home phone. Shit. I don’t even have his personal cell. The home phone rings and rings and rings.

Someone enters the bathroom. I pause. A trickle of sweat drips down my back. The answering machine goes off. I don’t leave a message but let it pick up what’s going on here.

Footsteps near my stall. Scuffed, leather boots stop right outside. I hear the labored breathing. Hopefully, Dad’ll trace my call. Know I’m in trouble.

The door slams open, breaking off the fragile latch door. A fist is in my face before I can react. He grips my shirt, pulls me forward, then punches me in the gut. I hunch over, coughing.

“Don’t say a word, punk.”
 

I look through my swelling eye at the big guy towering over me. His arms are bulked out, his chest is massive, but I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. This isn’t a normal shakedown because I danced with the wrong girl.
 

He doesn’t let go of my shirt and drags me from the bathroom and out the backdoor. He throws me to the ground, but I manage to stay on my feet. Instinct kicks in to get in a quick punch and then run. I usually don’t run from a brawl, but I also listen to my gut. And my gut says to run and then get help.
 

I rush him, swinging. He easily dodges me. I slam into a second guy and I know I’m in trouble. Through the haze of punches and dodging, Kingston exits with a firm grip on Katie’s arm. She walks forward like a robot with stilted steps. Her face shows nothing but is a shade paler than usual. He seems to have some kind of control over her. Somehow he’s intimidated her to the point of obedience.

“Fight, Katie!”

Kingston laughs. “Too late for that.” He waves goodbye over his shoulder. “Take care of him, boys.”

Chapter 9

Katie

“Let’s go, doll.” Kingston takes my hand and walks me out. It’s all I can do to keep my thoughts straight.

The crisp breeze hits me as we exit through the back. It didn’t take many words for Kingston to convince me to go with him, no fighting, no struggle, nothing that would give anyone any idea that I was leaving against my will.

With a firm grip on my arm, he whispered, “Don’t even think about making a scene, or your boyfriend will be dead.”
 

That’s all it took for me to leave with him.
 

I hear the grunt before I see Chad lying on the cement. The big guys surround him. Chad’s tough but these guys are different, bigger, tougher, and they carry an air of danger around them like they don’t fool around.
 

My heart cries out but I can’t do anything. Kingston directs me to his Camaro and tucks me into the backseat. He slides a blindfold over my eyes and puts cuffs on my hands behind my back.

“Really don’t want involve you in this but we have to teach our boy a little lesson. Nothing personal, beautiful.” He shuts the door and climbs in the front.
 

I lean my head against the cool of the window, wishing I could see through the blindfold, anything just to know that Chad will make it through this. I pray to God that Justine went to get help and not because she was mad I danced with Chad. If she left before seeing what happened, my situation just got that much worse.
 

The engine bursts to life, striking fear in my chest that makes it hard to breathe. A chill sweeps through me. Suddenly all the answers I thought I wanted to know I don’t care about.

He clears his throat then talks above the radio blaring out rock. “We haven’t properly introduced ourselves. You’ve been playing tease with me for days. I’m glad we finally got the chance to meet. I’m Kingston.”
 

I say nothing. Partly because I don’t want to give him that part of me, my name, but also because the fear will be evident in my shaky, breathless voice.

He continues to talk but his words drift over me, not making it through. His voice is charming and seductive. I’m sure all the girls fall all over him when he’s not kidnapping them. At one point in time, I might have thought he was cute, but the gleam in his eyes and the coldness behind his mannerisms would never have pulled me in. My dad raised me better than that—to see past good looks to the heart of a person.
 

The drive is fast. Dread pools in my stomach with every turn. My sense of where we’re heading gets confused, and the feeling spreads. Tears quiver on my eyelashes and slide past the blindfold. I don’t want them to, but it’s a physical reaction to what happened, to the fact that I should’ve minded my own business.

The Camaro slows down, the engine gunning down, then stops. I take several deep breaths. The door opens silently, cold air wafting past.
 

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Kingston comments. “Despite what you may think, I don’t make it a habit of taking girls from bars. That’s not really my thing.” He sighs as he grips my arm and pulls me from the car. “Your boy back at the bar stuck his nose where it doesn’t belong too many times.”
 

His words confirm my worst fear. That I’m a warning, a lesson for Chad. The metal cuffs dig into my wrists. I could try and kick him and run away, but I wouldn’t get far. I can’t see anything and these cuffs aren’t coming off anytime soon.

All I have are the smells and touch to let me know what’s going on. The grass scratches my ankles as he leads me away from his car. The sound of my heels clicking on the cement steps. The warm draft of air from inside feels like my prison sentence, and the last few breaths of cool night air I take feel like my last.
 

I trip on more steps. This time they feel soft under my feet, possibly carpeted, meaning we’re heading upstairs. The lingering scent of lemon cleaner hangs in the air. For some reason this is a comfort to me. I don’t picture the den of a drug dealer being cleaned on a regular basis, so maybe I’m back at his house. Just this gives me some hope.

His loosening grip on my arm tells me he feels more relaxed, like he’s almost home free. I try not to wrinkle my nose at the smell of dirty socks. It smells like any guy’s room.
 

He pushes me against the wall. “Don’t move.”
 

I don’t even think about trying to run, not right now. The blindfold is proving to be very effective. He grunts as the grinding of something tells me he’s moving heavy furniture. I’ve seen too many movies not to know that means a secret room. The musty smell that causes my chest to constrict tells me I’m right.
 

My pounding heart rockets. The continuing darkness disorients and the haze of fear surrounding me makes it hard to even process what’s happening. I keep sucking in air but can’t get enough no matter how hard I try. A soft whimper sounds and I realize it’s me.

“Be a good girl.” He traces my cheek with his knuckles. “I’m sorry we didn’t meet under better circumstances.”
 

With one whoosh, the blindfold is off my head. Kingston flashes me his cocky grin, and the gleam in his eye sends a shiver through me before he pushes me into the darkness. Just before the door creaks shut, I catch the stacks of boxes. One is open, filled with bags of white powder. Seconds later, complete darkness engulfs me.

The silence is deafening even though Kingston is right on the other side of the wall. I tried to play the bad girl to spy on my boyfriend. I followed Chad for answers, but this is much more than I wanted. Chad didn’t have a clue Justine and I were following him earlier as he drove around the town, stopped outside a mansion, and then followed the guy in the Camaro.

That surprised me.

And then Chad followed the guy to The Salty Dog. My curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied with just knowing he was following someone. Even though I knew it was stupid to follow Chad into the bar, I did.