It turned out that the place he texted me and told me to meet him at wasn’t exactly a dive bar, but it also fell short of a wine room, occupying a comfortable middle-class niche, along with gastro-lounges.
It was fancy enough to impress, but not so much that it would look smug. It seemed exactly like my kind of place. I was in heaven already.
A man after my own heart, Stig had gotten us a table far away from the maddening crowd. I could put up with most of humanity when necessary, but I liked to keep things one on one whenever I could.
“Absinthe with sugar?” he asked, sliding the tumbler towards me.
“Yes, thank you. How did you know I’d like that?”
“Lucky guess.”
He took a sip of his brown cow, clearly not one for empty small talk. He seemed more than willing to let silence reign, if the situation called for it. I loved when people did that instead of trying to force awkward conversation. I really could have kissed him.
But then I heard an all too familiar voice say my name.
“Holly?”
My spine froze. It was a voice I prayed I would never have to hear again. I had even gone to the trouble of getting a restraining order. I wanted to tell him so, as well as to go fuck himself— with a chainsaw, if at all possible. Instead, all I could do was hyperventilate.
“I don’t think she wants to see you,” Stig said to Keith, who was standing beside our table.
“Who asked you, dickhead?” Keith shot back.
“No one. I don’t need anyone’s permission to speak,” Stig told him.
“What the fuck ever. She’s coming with me.”
At this, Keith tried to grab my arm, but Stig smacked his hand away.
“No, she’s not.”
“Do you know who I am?” I heard Keith demand, in his spoiled rich kid way, undoubtedly wanting Stig to acknowledge his lawyer dad, who was a named partner at one of the biggest firms in town.
But apparently he wasn’t a good enough lawyer to have convinced his son not to mess with me, even after I’d had to get the law involved.
“Of course,” Stig told him. “You’re a pathetic little bully, who needs to hurt others to make yourself feel important. And you’re much like a stinging insect, in that way: annoying and even dangerous, in the moment, but otherwise fundamentally below anyone’s notice.”
I really thought it would go differently. Keith grabbed Stig’s shirt, which, in my experience, was always a prelude to him beating seven circles of Hell out of someone. I didn’t expect Stig to stand up, though, and apparently, Keith didn’t, either.
The momentum of Stig’s swing, knocking Keith flat on his ass, would have rivaled a canoe capsized by a speed boat. My nightmare of an ex clearly hadn’t noticed how tall Stig was while he was sitting down.
Having had the bravado blown out of him like sand on the wind, Keith crab walked away. Stig watched with a distant curiosity. Then he seemed to take pity on him, and went over to where he was.
“No,” Keith shrieked, as if afraid of another blow from Stig, as he covered his face with his arms.
Stig took a couple more steps to get close enough to him and then extended a hand. After pulling him to his feet, Stig stared Keith down.
“I think you’ve had enough,” he told him. I loved the strength of his loud voice, which I could hear from where I was still sitting. He practically growled out a warning. “It’s time for you to get a cab home. Do not go near Holly again.”
“Okay, fine, dude, geez,” Keith agreed, before unsteadily going for the door.
“Sorry about that,” Stig said, taking his seat once more. “Obviously I had no idea the likes of someone like him could be here, or I never would have suggested it as a date spot.”
“I thought you were going to kill him!” I exclaimed.
“What would that have achieved?” Stig asked. “Other than getting me a sore hand at best or time in prison at worst? Or for him, a hospital or morgue would be the choices, and neither of them are good. I might have felt better for a little while but then the regret would never go away. I don’t think so, anyway. It kind of depends. What did he do to you?”
“What didn’t he do? Lots of bad things. Mostly it was psychological abuse— narcissistic rage and that kind of thing.”
I had a quick flashback of some times that had been worse than that, but I didn’t let myself think more about it. I didn’t want to ruin the rest of the whole night by spiraling into a depression.
“But he’s manhandled me before, too,” I said, deciding to leave it at that. “I just wasn’t as quick on the defense as you were now. He’s not supposed to be near me… not that he seems to care.”