Ransom (20 page)

 
“What can I get you?” she said, not really bothering to study me. I released a quiet sigh of relief.

“I’ll have the Irish stew and Guinness,” I said, hoping the nervousness threading through me wasn’t audible in my voice. She scribbled my order on a white pad then brought her gaze to my face. Up close she looked a lot younger than I had originally thought. She was probably closer to her early twenties than the thirties I had pegged her at. Her eyes were artificially blue from the colored contacts she wore, and were lined in black, giving her a sultry appearance. She oozed sex appeal and confidence. I silently wished that I had even a tenth of what she had. Though our ages were pretty close, I didn’t feel like a woman yet, just a teenager posing. As if the day Mom had died had frozen me, halted my maturity.
 

Because how many girls my age were still virgins. Besides the hand job incident, I hadn’t really had a robust dating life. In fact if I didn’t count the time that Guy Smith, a total nerd, had offered to pay for my pizza when about fifteen of us were out at Gia’s Pizza Palace, I could have counted the number of my dates on one hand. I snapped out of my thoughts to find that the waitress had already gone. It was a blatant testament to how totally messed up I was.
 

I startled when she clunked a beer down in front of me a few minutes later.
 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said with a smile. Her lips were full and thick with red shiny lipstick. Her two front teeth had a wide gap that gave her smile more character.
 

“Are you okay?” she asked before I had a chance to respond. I shook my head, ticked off that I had managed to do the exact thing I hadn’t wanted to, make her notice me.

“I’m fine, I just really need a beer, you know, that kind of a day,” I said as if I was in the pub every other day of the week. She nodded ascent, tapping a pencil on her jeans.

“Oh yeah I get it,” she said. “I’ll keep the cold ones coming your way.”
 

She shot me another grin and was gone. I was more than a little embarrassed that I wanted her to stay and talk to me. How much of a loser was I, that I needed to make small talk to random strangers.

I took a big gulp of my Guinness, swallowing around the flavor, that was yeasty with a bitter aftertaste. I wasn’t a fan of beer, but right then anything that would numb me a little was welcome. By the time my food came, I had almost pushed through my first beer. My head was spinning and even though I hadn’t intended on eating much, beer on an empty stomach was a bad idea.
 

“Enjoy,” the waitress said hurriedly, as she placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of me. In the time that it had taken to get my food the bar had picked up considerably. More people crowded along the polished wood counter, that ran the length of the place.

The waitress was gone before I had a chance to thank her. I stared down at my food and had to concede that it smelled divine. The bowl was mounded with new baby potatoes still in their jackets, carrot coins and bright green peas. The succulent beef was lean and tender and drenched in the tastiest gravy that I had ever had. I couldn’t help but be amazed at how such simple ingredients could be so delicious. I devoured the bowl of stew, even sopping up the remaining gravy with broken bits of the crusty bread that had been served on the side.

The concentration that I’d had when I had been eating had given me several minutes of mindless pleasure. Only after the last crumb was gone did all the events of the day rush back in. Unable to deal with the emotions that were threatening to crack me wide, I knew I needed to revive the buzz that had fizzled with my hearty meal.
 

The place was hopping with people and tucked away in the corner, it was easy for me to be ignored. An overwhelming need to escape reality had a way of making you do things that you would never have expected. Without thought I climbed up on my chair, signaling above the crowd to a waitress that was passing by. Unperturbed by my bold move, she smiled and waved, letting me know that she had gotten the message.

The next beer, this time a local brand, went down with more difficulty. This
 
time it was less about the taste than it was about trying to put more in my already overstuffed stomach. I finally managed to get it down and had ensured that as soon as I was remotely ready, another beer was waiting for me. The alcohol kicked in full force after I had downed my fourth beer, a feat that I had never managed before. Suddenly and without fanfare, I was pleasantly plastered.

“Hey you wanna dance?”
 

I startled then turned to face the guy standing over me. He grinned warmly. I returned his smile with one of my own. He was cute enough, with bright blue eyes, full lips and a friendly boyish charm. His shoulder length blonde hair was tousled and damp around the temples, strands of it curling from the humidity on his sharp cheek bones.
 

“Dance?” I repeated.
 

I had no idea what he was talking about, since as far as I knew there wasn’t a dance floor in the bar.

He took my hand in his, as if we had known each other for a while. With a slight tug he pulled me to my feet. Now that I was standing I realized he was even taller than I had first thought. In my estimation he was at least six-foot-six, but what he had in height wasn’t matched by bulk. He was slender to the point of being scrawny, but whatever weight he did have was wiry muscle.

“It’s over there,” he said, pointing toward a crush of bodies that formed what appeared to be an impenetrable wall.
 

“They move the tables out of the way after they close the kitchen,” he explained. Clearly my expression must have indicated that I didn’t believe him.

I shrugged. “Yeah okay,” I said.
 

It felt a little odd that he was still holding my hand. I understood the reason when we tried to maneuver through the tangle of people blocking our way. There was no doubt that without him guiding me, I would have easily been swallowed by the crowd. And just when I thought that he was taking me on a wild goose chase, the throngs of people parted, and a makeshift dance floor appeared. I hadn’t noticed the retro disco ball, shooting strobing multicolored lights in every direction until we were standing beneath it.
 

The guy took both of my hands in his, drawing me closer until our bodies were inches apart. I was more than a touch drunk, but even I had to acknowledge that it felt weird that he was being so hands-on with me. I had no idea who he was, or even his name for that matter.
 

His palms found a place on my hips and he swayed to the music, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was a super dancer. I couldn’t ever seem to find the beat in a song. But the alcohol was enough that most of my usual inhibitions were buried, as I tried to match his moves.
 

I rotated my hips in slow circles, trying to copy some of the girls that were gyrating around us. The next thing I knew he was behind me, grinding his body against me. The sensible part of me was mortified that I was dancing so intimately with a stranger, but the drunk me, let it all go. The music poured over me in rhythmic beats and I was lost in the sensation of heat and the salacious sexual tension that cascaded from my partner. It wasn’t hard to tell that he wanted me, and I couldn’t help but like it. Nobody ever wanted me like that. I rubbed my butt against his crotch a bit harder than I had planned. He groaned into my ear.

“I like bad girls,” he said.
 

His voice was smooth like Baileys Irish Cream over ice. I almost laughed out loud at his comment. I was so far from being a bad girl, but for that moment I played the part, pressing a little firmer against him. His appreciation was immediate. I leaned my head back to look up at him and when I did I saw the hunger in his gaze, like he wanted to devour me. He slid his hands up the length of my torso, coming to rest on the strap of my bra.
 

 
It excited me, but also set off alarm bells, from the way he was looking at me he was planning for more than just a dance. Before I could look away he caught my mouth in his, his tongue searched my mouth greedily and his hands cupped my breasts in a move that left me flustered and feeling dirty. What had begun as apprehension rapidly shifted to trepidation. This guy wanted me in a way that I wasn’t even remotely ready to give him.
 

I jerked away suddenly. His expression shifted to surprise with a tinge of irritation. The surrealness of
 
the situation hit me hard. I needed to escape. Without a word, I pushed through people, desperate to get away from the situation, away from him. I wasn’t the person he thought I was.
 

Relief washed over me when I spotted my table. I just managed to collapse onto the chair when absolute dizziness crested over me. My churning stomach made me regret the beer I had drank and the food that I had eaten. Even as I tried to ignore how squeamish I felt, I knew that I was going to be sick. This time when I got to my feet the full force of the alcohol had its way. I staggered. The only thing that saved me from falling flat on my ass were the people that were pressed up against me.
 

What had been fun before was all wrong now. Even to my dulled senses, the music was too loud, the space scorching hot. Cold sweat, the kind that precedes vomiting, coated me. I swallowed repeatedly, praying that I would make it to the restroom before I barfed all over the floor.

There was a lineup outside the door to the restroom, but I didn’t care. I shoved my way through and inside. As expected all the stalls were taken. I had planned to cut ahead as soon as someone exited, but my stomach didn’t agree to waiting. I spun to face the sinks, and with no other choice, evacuated my Irish stew without ceremony.

“That’s just nasty,” someone said from behind me. I was too sick to feel ashamed, but there was always later to regret my actions.

 
Even after I had finished throwing up my recent meal, and what seemed like everything I had eaten all day, my stomach didn’t relent. Dry heaves had me retching and coughing. When it finally stopped, I shifted to the adjacent sink, washing out my mouth and splashing water on my face. After I had dried my face with a paper towel, I chanced a look at my reflection.
 

My ponytail was half falling out, my eyes were puffy and rimmed in red, my nose matched my eyes. Whatever makeup I’d had on was gone, leaving black circles of mascara and eyeliner ringing my eyes.
 

Quite simply I looked like shit.
 

Tears dripped down my cheeks without my volition, then I was suddenly sobbing. It seemed impossible to get hold of myself.

I felt so alone.

“Are you all right?” someone said.
 

I heard compassion in the voice and detested that it had been directed at me. I didn’t deserve sympathy. I didn’t deserve anything. Frantic to get out of there, I pushed through the bodies that obstructed my path. People protested my rough manhandling, but it wasn’t enough to make me stop. I needed to be outside, I needed to talk to Trinity I needed…my mom. I struggled to catch my breath as I fought to block out the image of my mother the last time I had seen her, when I had been so hateful to her. Then the words pushed into my mind, unbidden and paralyzing.

 
I’ll send you an angel to let you know I’ve made it to heaven…I’ll send you an angel
…
 

Everything became a blur as I shoved my way through the crowd outside the bathroom. Only after I had spotted the exit did I slow a little. I made one final sprint to the door, as if I was running for my life. Then I was outside. As soon as the door closed behind me, there was quiet. A slight breeze made my disheveled hair flutter around my head.

 
The street was empty and it didn’t take long for me to see that there were no taxis available. Still fuzzy from drinking, I thought about going back inside the bar to call a cab, but even as I tossed a glance over my shoulder, I knew I couldn’t do it. I was moments away from another meltdown, going inside would only hasten the inevitable, not to mention that I didn’t want to face the guy I had cut out on again. I dug in my pocket for my cell but it was dead since I had forgotten to charge it the night before.

I stared down at my watch, shocked that it was already 1:00 a.m. Knowing I
 
was just a few blocks away from my hotel, I decided to hoof the short distance. I heard Trinity’s and even my mother’s voice like phantoms in my ear, admonishing me for doing something so reckless. I ignored them. I needed to get away from it all, pass out for a while and forget that I had lost everything. I knew that I would have to eventually accept that my life was in tatters, but I didn’t have to do it right then.

The full moon was bright above me, illuminating the sidewalk as I walked. I teetered and almost fell a few times as I moved. The remnants of my beers were still weighing heavily on me. For the most part the alcohol managed to cloud my mind enough that every time a thought about Mom, Trinity or even Dad surfaced, it faded as rapidly as it had come. Unfortunately the mind-numbing side effects of alcohol was also the very thing that prevented me from detecting that danger was near.

As I rounded a corner into a noticeably darker area, I felt a hand grab my arm. In rapid succession, I was tugged back then twirled around. It was too black to really see the man that was holding my arm. His silhouette said he was reed thin, and that he towered over me by several feet. His hair was shaggy, falling to his shoulders in a tangled mat. I clutched my purse a little tighter, more than willing to give him all the money in my wallet if he just let me go.
 

“Why did you take off so quick?” he asked.
 

His voice was familiar. I immediately recognized him as the guy I had danced with.

“Look I’m sorry…,” I started to say, but stopped when he came dangerously close. What had felt naughty and a little fun on the dance floor took on a whole new meaning now. Whether it was valid or not, this guy thought I owed him something. His breath was hot on my face. Even his smell, that had been a hint of cologne and fermented beer had shifted. Now he stunk of sweat, stale cigarette smoke, and sour milk. I cringed at the thought that I had actually kissed him.