Authors: Sloan Johnson
(Dylan)
Leaving Tasha alone in the apartment takes a Herculean effort. Since talking to Tommy, I fear she’s going to try to reach out to Holly. She needs to know how much trouble her friend is in, but again, how can I expect her to trust me over people she has known her entire life.
“Hey man, you look troubled,” Zeke points out as I walk through his front door. I haven’t been sleeping well and I’m beginning to feel the effects. “Still trying to protect her without telling her what’s going on?”
I shrug, bypassing the beer he offers me in favor of a few fingers of Jack. Just enough to soothe my nerves. “If Tommy can get some concrete evidence, I won’t have to tell her.”
“Dude, you
have
to tell her. How can you expect her to come to you and be open with you if you’re not giving her the same courtesy?” I may be the man sharing a bed with Tasha, but Zeke has become fiercely protective of her. That’s understandable since he is working in his car with a mobile hotspot much of the time so she’s never by herself. Still, it pisses me off that he’s sitting at his bar telling me what I already know.
“Look, when I told her I would protect her, I meant that in eve
ry fucking sense of the word,” I growl, slamming my glass on the counter. “That means I need to do this the right way. What would you think if she came to you spewing the type of shit we know? If she told you that I’m an abusive drug dealer?”
“Calm the fuck down, man. I see your problem, I really do, but she has a right to know. Otherwise, what’s going to happen if he convinces her he just wants to talk to her the next time he calls?”
Part of me would love nothing more. Let the miserable prick think he’s meeting with her and I’ll show up in her place. That would be a fun meeting. I’ve wanted a piece of his ass for three years. Seeing the emotional toll he took on someone as beautiful and kind as Tasha just makes me want to pound the shit out of him that much more.
“Fine, oh wise one, how do you suggest I go about this? Maybe you should tell her since you have nothing to lose.” I’m joking, but it might not be a bad plan. Have Zeke and Tommy approach her, that way it’s not coming from the jealous new boyfriend. Not that I’m jealous of the prick, but that’s how she’ll see it.
“That could actually work.” I’m shocked to hear Zeke offering to help me deal with this. It makes me realize just what lengths he’ll go to for Tasha’s sake and that twists the knife that much more.
“Seriously?” I ask in disbelief.
“As a heart attack.” He drains his glass and picks up the bottle to refill both of our drinks. “If you tell her, she’s going to think you’re making it worse than it is to keep her in your bed. If I tell her, I let her know that I’m basically living in my fucking car right now because this dude is
that
bad. It might not work, but it might be the best option.”
If only I knew what is going on in my girl’s head a bit better, I would know if we’re doing the right thing. The last thing I need is her thinking we’re
tag teaming her or that Zeke is telling her because I’m too weak. Then again, that’s exactly what I am. I’m so fucking worried about hurting her and having her run from me that I’m burying my head in the sand.
“Fine, come to dinner with us and we’ll all talk.
I’ll call Tommy and see if he can meet us there.” So much for a romantic night out.
(Tasha)
I feel uncomfortable in the dress Dylan picked for me to wear
for tonight’s show. I told him it is completely unnecessary for him to keep having someone buy me new clothes, but he insists. It makes him happy, so I don’t protest too much. Plus, it
is
a work function for him, so it’s understandable he wants me to look my best.
Yes, I swore
that living my life caving to the wishes and demands of another person was a thing of the past, but Zeke was right. What Dylan and I have is completely different from my relationship with Nick. The only times Dylan takes total control is when it’s ultimately to make me happy, so I suppose I’m okay with that.
Tonight, I walk
into the bedroom to find a rich purple dress hanging on the hook behind his door. This has become the first place I look for an outfit, knowing that if there’s something there, I’m supposed to wear it; otherwise, I’m free to choose my own wardrobe. Tight pleats arranged in a manner that mask the soft areas on my body while accentuating my long legs and ample chest cover the strapless dress. It’s the chest that has me fidgeting as I wait for him to come back to the table with our drinks. I’m certain that I’m one wrong move from being on display for the entire club.
“You look fine,” Zeke says, leaning closer to me. I know he’s worried I’m still upset with him over our dinner debacle last weekend. He’s right, but I’m trying to be rational. He has no reason to lie to me, so I should believe him. It’s just hard when his words painted such an ugly picture of the man I shared the majority of my life with.
“Oh, I know I look good,” I say sarcastically. “I just don’t need to be giving you a free peek at the girls tonight.”
We both laugh and Zeke drapes his arm over my shoulder. “Dylan’s a lucky guy. I hope he knows that.”
“Yeah, because he could have his choice of just about any straight woman on the planet and he ended up with messed up me,” I scoff.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Tasha. You’ve been putting up with shit for years, even more than you knew about and you didn’t have a nervous breakdown when I told you what’s been going on. That says something.” He allows his eyes to take in my outfit, pausing briefly at my thighs,
waist, and chest before settling on my eyes. “Not to mention you’re sexy as fuck.”
“Yeah, sure. I think you put on the beer goggles a little bit early.” I push him away from me, not wanting Dylan to worry about what’s been going on while he was away. “And about the other, I might not have let you see me crack, but I assure you, I’ve been a mess most of the week.”
“But you didn’t slap me or call me an ignorant bastard,” he points out, tipping his bottle of beer in my direction and we toast, to what I have no clue but I go with it. It’s nice to be carefree Tasha from time to time.
“Zeke, I couldn’t have slapped you. I was in shock. But seriously, can we forget all that for tonight? I really need to just relax after the crap week I’ve had.”
On top of finding out that my ex-husband is an alleged drug distributor in the area, one who the cops keep trying to pin but can’t, I also learned from Zeke that Nick has his own dominant tendencies. Except, unlike Dylan and Zeke, Nick’s idea of dominating is beating on women and it got him kicked out of something called the Isthmus Alliance, an alternative lifestyles group I never knew existed. A group Dylan and Zeke are deeply involved with.
One would think that would be enough for a woman to deal with, but no, the powers that be seem to think I need crap piled on me all at the same time. On Wednesday, word
came down that, despite our hours of overtime, attention to detail and all that other corporate cheerleading malarkey, a different carrier won the government processing contract. That means, more than likely, we’ll all be looking for jobs soon.
That was a rough night for me. Dylan was out of town on business, and it
felt wrong to ask Zeke to come over to hang out, so I sat alone in the condo. I tried calling Holly, but as per usual these days, she didn’t answer. Dylan keeps telling me just to let her go, but I can’t do that. We’ve known each other far too long to give up.
When I see Dylan working his way through the capacity crowd, he looks upset. No, that would be an understatement. He looks pissed off. I try wrapping my arms around him as he places our drinks on the table and his body feels rigid beneath my fingers.
“Everything okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned. His mouth is set in a thin line as he looks down at me and I wonder if I’m the source of his disdain.
“Fine,” he says curtly. He’s lying. As much as I want to trust him, I’m at the point where I don’t know that I will ever again blindly trust anything anyone says.
“Do you want to go home?” I ask, knowing it would be difficult, but surely Zeke can handle tonight’s small show.
“No.”
What did I do to warrant the one word answers?
I pick up my drink, deciding it’s better to let him work through whatever is going on rather than try to get him to open up.
After nearly twenty painful minutes of silence at our table, I announce that I’m going to dance.
Dylan reaches for my arm as I turn to walk away. I spin around, glaring at him. He knows this is what he refers to as a “hard limit” for me. It might sound silly to some people, but I have no tolerance for anyone grabbing me like they own me.
“What?” I shriek at him. He’s the one that created all of this tension with his foul mood tonight. I’m simply choosing to get away, to not allow his surliness to wreck my evening.
“I need you to sit down,” he says in a forceful tone, but
he doesn’t word it as a command. Well screw that, I’m not in a mood to sit here while he sulks for another minute.
“I’m going to dance. Perhaps by the time I get back, you’ll be in a better mood and I won’t want to get away,” I say defiantly.
“Tasha, please. If I didn’t
have
to be here, you’d better believe we would have left a while ago. We need to talk…”
(Dylan)
I don’t know what game she’s playing, but the only two times I’ve brought Tasha to a show, Holly has shown up. She hasn’t made a move to acknowledge Tasha’s presence, so it could be coincidence, but I doubt it.
Tonight, she’s once again on the arm of a known drug dealer. The fucker specializes in meth
and coke, preying primarily on co-eds looking to combat the freshman fifteen who also need to be able to stay up all night studying. I only know this because Tommy just about jumped out of his skin the night I pointed out Holly at Last Chance.
Whatever that bitch’s motivations, I’m now certain she’s into way too many things
that I want Tasha to stay far away from.
“Holly’s here,” I blurt
out, not knowing how else to start the conversation.
“Where?” Tasha’s face lights up as she starts to look around for her friend. I really need to get her
back to the diner soon so she can start meeting other people. People who aren’t into selling their bodies and abusing illegal drugs.
“Angel, I’m not telling you this so you’ll run off to find her. I’m telling you because she’s in a pretty messed up place and I need you to stay away from her.”
Leave it to me to have this discussion in the middle of a club when I’m supposed to be working. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that this isn’t going to backfire.
“Are you trying to say I’m forbidden to talk to her?” She asks, folding her arms tightly across her chest. I can’t help but
gawk at the way this defensive posture pushes her tits up.
God, what I wouldn’t give to hit the rewind button on tonight and bury my face in her naked chest instead of deal with this.
She flinches away when I reach for her. She’ll never know how much that move kills me. I know that, at least right now, she’s scared because of me. Yes, she’s pissed off, but if she’s being honest with herself, I have no reason to lie about this and that should scare her.
“I don’t want to tell you who you can and can’t associate with, Tasha. But I would
prefer
that you not go out of your way to find her tonight.” At least to my own ears, my voice is steady and calm. I need to stay this way.
“And why is that? Because if I’m spending time with her, I’m not spending time with you? Because she’s not on some pre-approved friends list? Tell me, because I’m dying to know what you have against the woman I’ve known for almost my entire life.” Normally, defiant Tasha is sexy as shit. Tonight, it’s scaring the hell out of me because I realize I’m probably fighting a losing battle. “You know, I’ve always felt like the time was going to come when I had to choose between you and her. I thought she was going to be the one telling me what an evil, sadistic prick you are but I guess I was wrong.”
I look to Zeke, for once hoping he’ll have something to add to the conversation. It figures that the one time I want him to put himself firmly in the middle of something that doesn’t concern him, he’s sitting here tight lipped, watching everything unfold before his eyes.
Once again, I take a chance, needing Tasha to feel the physical connection between us. I need to remind her of what we have if I have any hope of making her see what has been happening in the world around her.
“Tasha, as I said before, I don’t want to drive a wedge between you two,” I say sincerely. “At the same time, she’s in a very bad spot right now and I can’t risk you getting tangled up in that.”
“And what, exactly, do you know about what is or is not going on in
my
best friend’s life? Hell, I can’t even get her to return my phone calls, so I’m dying to hear what you think you know and how you know it.”