Torn (28 page)

“Okay, no more cop-outs. I’m yours tonight.” I was met with utter silence. She was probably so shocked she fell over. “I promise.”

“Holy shit, woman. I didn’t think you would ever agree.” Her tone was light; she was clearly messing with me. But in all reality, I felt bad for forgetting all about her and our own reconnection. I wasn’t one of those women who forgot all about her friends once she was in a relationship. But my situation with Eli was so precarious, I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible to see where we were headed.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a lousy friend as of late, Jas. I’ll fill you in on everything when we meet up. Which reminds me, where were you thinking of going? And please don’t say a dance club or some shit like that,” I groaned. That was the last place I wanted to be. A loud, crowded place with people who were obnoxious and barely in their twenties wasn’t my scene anymore. It never really had been.

Because of the decisions I’d made, I never did live that kind of life. I was too busy being a responsible mother, going to school to earn a degree while working full-time.

“Cynthia told me about this place called The Underground. Said it was quite the place.”

“Cynthia who?” Before she answered, I fired back with, “Not Cynthia Smales? You still talk to her? Wasn’t she always getting into some sort of trouble in high school? Hanging out with the wrong crowd?”

“If you would let me get a word in edgewise, I’ll tell you.” She laughed. “Yes, I still talk to her, our kids go to the same school. And she’s changed, for the most part,” she mumbled.

“Uh-huh. I’m not so sure I trust a place she suggested,” I warned.

“Oh, stop being a baby. I’ll be there in an hour to pick you up.” She quickly said goodbye before hanging up, knowing damn well I would have continued to give her a hard time about her dear ol’ friend’s suggestion.

Eli showed up ten minutes before Jasmine arrived. I would have asked my mom to watch Holden for a few hours, but his father insisted. I knew he was working late recently and I wanted him to make sure to get some rest, but the bond between him and his son strengthened every single day. I knew he loved being around him and was trying to make up for the time he’d missed, through no fault of his own. So, I didn’t argue.

“You look beautiful.” He grinned, leaning in to me for his usual panty-dropping kiss. “Almost too stunning to leave me for the night.” He was teasing, but there was a little truth to his words. Eli wasn’t a jealous man by nature, although that the
ory had been tested on occasion when we were younger. I
hadn’t been put in a situation to find out how he would react since we’d come back into each other’s lives.

“Don’t worry,” I said, fidgeting with the hem of my skirt. “We won’t be gone long. What are you two going to do?”

“I’m going to take him back to my place, maybe play a game or two.” His eyes lit up talking about Holden, a brightness which reminded me he could have had this kind of relationship with our son all along. A pang of regret hit me hard, but I shook it off, reminding myself that if both of them could forgive me, then I could certainly forgive myself.

Choosing to focus back on Eli was the best kind of distraction.

Grabbing a bottled water from the fridge, he twisted off the cap and took a big gulp. Why did I find it sexy when he swallowed? The muscles of his tanned throat worked together, drawing all of my attention. He saw me watching him and his mouth kicked up into a heart-stopping smirk. Slowly licking his lips to catch any remnants of the water, he took the few steps necessary to put him directly in front of me. He was so damn gorgeous, it was a real pity I was leaving the house at all. A sudden rush of heat bloomed over my body, the urge to squeeze my thighs together too much.

Before I could even think of settling myself down, Eli pulled me in to him and kissed me deeply, his tongue playing with mine. I felt him smiling against my lips the entire time; he was working me up even more than I already was.

“I’ll miss you, baby,” he said between kisses. “But don’t rush on my account. Enjoy yourself. Just not too much.” He chuckled, pulling back so he could stare into my eyes. “Where are you ladies going, anyway?”

“Ummmm,” I stalled, trying to remember the name of the place Jasmine told me. “The Underground. Yeah, I think that’s what it’s called.” Leaning in to kiss him again, I heard the blare of my friend’s horn. “Gotta go.” I gave him another quick kiss before reaching for my purse and keys.

“Call me if you ladies need a ride home. No drinking and driving. I mean it,” he warned, love laced with concern.

“I promise,” I mock-saluted before disappearing out the front door.

****

We were an hour into our girl time together and feeling good. Neither one of us possessed the need to lose ourselves to the drink, but we were celebrating finally finding the time to hang out. Me more than her.

Jasmine had always been there for me in the past, even showing up on my doorstep as soon as she heard I’d returned home. Her love for me was unconditional and it was more than I deserved, but with her prodding, I was slowly learning to forgive myself for all of the hurt I’d caused those around me.

“This is quite the place, Jas,” I observed, glancing around again as two people stepped through the front door. The Underground was nothing special, from the outside or the inside. It wasn’t a dive, per se, but I wasn’t sure why Cynthia had raved about it so much. The lighting was dim, seating was sparse and the occupants were a little on the rougher side, men and women alike.

Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was still quite early, which probably explained the scattered people throughout the bar, something I was completely fine with because I hated big crowds.

“I suppose so. Not really sure what all the hype was about.” She took a sip of her drink. “But judging by the type of people here—ourselves excluded, of course,” she laughed, “Cynthia fits right in. A little rough around the edges.”

We shared another laugh, knowing damn well she was right. While I hadn’t talked to Cynthia since high school, these were the types of people she hung out with back then, and I guessed nothing had changed. Even though Jasmine had told me she had matured a bit since then.

The overly tattooed, bald-headed bartender returned to our end of the bar. “Another?” he asked. He was a man of few words, but pleasant enough. His exterior was rough, just like everyone else, but there was kindness in his eyes, a trait I was sure he tried to keep hidden from most. But seeing as how the two of us were obviously not a threat in any way, and so out of our element, he chose to let down his guard with us.

Thanking him for our refills, Jasmine asked me a question which stumped me. “So, when are you and Eli going to make it official?” Bumping my shoulder with hers, she toyed with the straw in her drink, chewing on it before taking another sip.

“What are you talking about?” I deflected.

Placing her drink on the bar, she swiveled in her chair until her knees trapped me in my seat. “You know damn well what I’m talking about, woman. Why are you two putting off the inevitable? You have a son together and are back to being madly in love with each other.” She reached out and squeezed my leg. “So, I ask you again. When are you going to make an honest man out of him?” She smiled wide, a gesture which was certainly contagious. I loved her optimism, but we just weren’t there yet. Maybe someday, but we still had a lot of hurdles to overcome.

I opened my mouth to tell her everything I was thinking but quickly closed it when I heard the rumble of what sounded like a thousand motorcycles. The collective noise was so overpowering I swore they were coming right through the front door. Jasmine and I shared a confused look as we turned toward the front of the bar. After a few, very long minutes, the door burst open and in walked ten bikers, all dressed in their cuts and carrying on as if they were about to act out some crazy shit.
      

There is no way in Hell all of that noise came from just ten bikes. There have to be more of them outside.

The men ranged in height, weight and age, but they all looked like people you didn’t want to mess with.

I was so busy taking it all in that Jasmine practically yelled in my ear to turn my attention back to her. “Looks like we found out why Cynthia loves this bar.” She smiled, but I was feeling anything but jovial. I would be lying if I didn’t admit I was a little more than unnerved.

But trying very hard not to judge these men before they’d given me a reason to, I turned back toward the bar and busied myself by fiddling with my drink. Before I could say anything to my friend, the door opened again, only that time a flock of women filed in, dispersing among the room to consort with the men. Most of them were young and pretty, although there were a few who looked rough, like they hadn’t lived the easiest of lives. All of them were dressed very similarly, tight-fitted clothing leaving nothing at all to the imagination.

Jasmine and I were clearly out of our element. I was wearing a tan skirt that flared out at the hips and hit just above my knees. A pink sweater and three-inch heels completed my outfit. Jasmine was wearing skinny jeans, heels and a black short-sleeved sweater, the collar a sheer material, but that was as revealing as either one of us got.

A few of the men flanked us on either side, trying to get the bartender’s attention. “Yo, Barlow!” one of them yelled, pounding on the bar. “We need some fucking drinks over here.”

Keeping my head down, I avoided any and all contact with the dangerous-looking men. Jasmine had other ideas, however. She was blatantly staring at each and every one, daring them with her eyes to speak to her. To us.

My heart picked up its beat when I heard a throaty rasp near my ear. “Well, look at what we have here,” he grumbled, the smell of liquor invading my nostrils before I could move away. I didn’t look up, hoping and praying he would just think me rude and move on.

No such luck.

“What? You not gonna talk to me, sweetheart?” he slurred a little. “You certainly don’t look like the regular broads we see in here. You lost?” He chuckled to himself, but still I ignored him. Until he touched my shoulder. Once he’d made contact, there was no way I could continue to pretend he wasn’t invading my personal space.

Finding a sliver of courage, I jerked my body away from him so his hand fell to his side. “My friend and I were just leaving.” Trying my hardest not to insult him, which would open up a whole new can of worms, I softened my voice before speaking again. “It’s late and we both have a busy day tomorrow.” I had no idea what else to say except something generic.

“You could have a busy night if you stay,” he prompted, running his fingers up and down my arm. His gesture was certainly unwelcome, and I think he knew it. But my resistance stirred something inside him; I saw it in his eyes when I finally looked at him.

It was odd. The man bothering me was rather handsome, behind his shaggy beard and shoulder-length hair. But as good-looking as he was, there was a darkness inside him, just begging to get out given the right circumstance. His arms were covered in tattoos, some of them quite scary, although I’d only allowed myself a glimpse before averting my eyes again. He’d certainly been drinking before arriving at The Underground, the smell of liquor on his breath evident of that fact.

He was close. Too close for any kind of comfort.

Strained seconds passed and still he hadn’t taken the hint. Aggravation spiraled through me, and if I didn’t do something to simmer it down, I was going to say something which would most likely put Jasmine and me in a worse situation.

“Please, don’t touch me,” I whispered, certain my words fell on deaf ears. But he surprised me when he responded.

“Any chick in here would love my attention,” he declared. “Just ask ‘em.”

I inhaled a quick breath, preparing myself to say…something. I had no idea what was going to come out of my mouth, but Jasmine beat me to it.

Leaning over me so she could see my space invader clearer, she spewed, “Then go hit on some other chick. My friend clearly isn’t interested.” Because I knew her so well, I was the only one who picked up on the slight tremor in her voice. Otherwise, she sounded like a brave badass, staring down the scary biker man who was relentlessly hitting on me.

Initially, we were trying to keep our voices low, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention, but we failed. Big time.

A flash of anger appeared in his eyes right before he roughly grabbed my arm. “Why the fuck are you here if not to fuck one of the KC?”

His yelling made some of the men he’d walked in with surround us, leering and smiling at the sudden entertainment.

“I’m gonna kill Cynthia if we ever get out of here,” Jasmine mumbled next to my ear. Her nervousness made me even more anxious, our precarious situation quickly spinning out of control.

I had no idea who these people were, but my gut told me they were not to be messed with, and that they always got what they wanted, women no exception.

“Don’t you know where you are, darlin’?” someone yelled next to us.

“You a damn fool if you don’t know who we are,” another man shouted.

Darting my eyes all over the place, I couldn’t identify who was talking, just that there were many pairs of eyes staring at us and grinning. Clearly, they were quite amused with our uneasiness.

Some of the women who’d walked in after the men stalked closer to us as well, the looks on their faces mirroring their body language. Instantly, they hated us, and I had one guess why. We drew the attention away from them, and that wasn’t good.

Not for either one of us.

So not only did we have to find a way away from the bikers, we had to fight our way through the small crowd of angry, jealous women.

Good luck to us.