My mind drifted to that first night, when Damien and Alex had rescued me and defended me, and my heart ached. It seemed like it was just yesterday, but it also felt like it was so long ago. No matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, I did miss them. Even if at the end they turned out to be assholes. That’s what I get for trusting two men I just met. During those couple weekends we had spent together, I had felt more like myself than I had in a long time. Free to be myself and not hold back. But, like so many other things in my life, it had turned out to be a lie. Go figure.
I walked to the bar since it wasn’t too far from my apartment—and I actually had a key this time—as the chilly night air bit at my exposed skin. But even though I was cold, the sharp air freezing in my lungs along with my temporary burst of confidence filled me with exhilaration.
As I stepped into the bar, the same one I had been at a few weeks ago with Leah and Angie, the same one where I had met Damien and Alex, I was hit by a blast of warmer air and the thumping bass of remixed pop music. The crowd was already pretty large, and I sidestepped my way through groups of people to the bar. When the bartender finally made his way around to me, I just asked him for a glass of water, knowing he wouldn’t charge me for it. I thanked him and turned my stool toward the dance floor, content to sit and watch for a while. I wasn’t always the most confident person in the world, but I knew I was fairly pretty, especially when I put in this much effort for my appearance, and that it wouldn’t be too long before a guy approached me. One of the perks of college bars, I supposed.
Sure enough, after 20 minutes had passed, I was approached by a guy who had been eyeing me since I came in. He slid into the chair next to me and gave me a smile.
“Need another drink?”
“Sure.” I gave him a deceptively sweet smile, though I had no interest in really getting to know him. I just needed free drinks. Did that make me a bad person? Probably. Did I care right now? Not particularly.
I ordered my usual vodka and Sprite, and he ordered some sort of whiskey. He said his name was Connor, and he asked all the usual questions—if I went to school here, what my major was, what I like to do for fun—and I indulged in answering, and maybe even flirted a bit. I consciously held one hand over my drink without making it too obvious, shuddering at the memory of what had almost happened to me last time I was here.
Our conversation continued, and though I had planned on not engaging with anyone for more than a few minutes, I found myself enjoying his company in a friendly sort of way. He wasn’t pushy, and he seemed to genuinely just want to talk.
“So are you here all alone tonight?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s been a bit of a rough week,” I admitted.
“Why?”
I blew out a long breath. “Well, it’s kind of a long story. To make it short, my roommate moved out while I was gone this weekend, leaving me to pay her share of the rent as well as mine until I move out at the end in a couple months. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it, but I’ve been working almost every spare hour I have trying to make enough money. And then, the guy I’ve been seeing turned out to . . . not be who I thought he was.” I left out the fact that it wasn’t one, but two guys that I had been seeing, and that both of them apparently just wanted me for easy sex.
And that I shouldn’t have expected or wanted anything more than that in the first place.
He nodded as I spoke, seemingly sympathetic. After I finished talking, he was silent for a moment, then said, “Wow, I’m really sorry. Seems like a lot of bad stuff happening to you all at once. What are you going to do when you graduate? Find a new apartment or what?”
“I have a job lined up in California, but I don’t know how I’m going to afford moving out there and paying for a new apartment if I can’t even pay for the one I’m in now.” Tears brimmed at my eyes. Despite the fact that this had all been on my mind all week, this was the first time I had spoken it aloud to anyone.
“You look like you need another drink,” Connor said with a sympathetic half-smile. I returned a grateful smile as he ordered us another round. Here I am again, I thought, drinking away my problems instead of dealing with my emotions.
I took my new drink from the counter, spinning my chair around again to watch the dancing crowd. The bar was becoming busier by the minute. One of Connor’s friends had come up to his other side to order another drink, so I was content to people-watch while they talked.
Watching people in different environments was one thing I had always loved to do. I used to joke that I probably should have majored in psychology with how much I liked to analyze people. I would always watch a certain group to see how they interacted with each other, then try to pick out what sort of dynamics there were between everyone. It was an entertaining hobby, and even more fun to do when it was a medium-sized group of 6-8 people of different genders. In the one group I watched, it was obvious that one of the guys was interested in the girl who had her arm wrapped around another man. But that man seemed to not care about the girl hanging on him, and instead spent too long staring at other women’s cleavage. I wondered how they all knew each other, if they were friends or roommates or just acquaintances.
“Do you know them?” Connor asked, his friend now gone.
“Nah, I just like to watch people. They don’t realize how easy they are to read most of the time, especially when they think nobody is paying attention.”
“Interesting. So what do you notice about them, then?”
I explained to him what I had just observed, but as my eyes scanned the crowd again, two people by the door caught my eye. Leah and Angie.
“Shit, I need to go.” I downed the rest of my drink and slung my purse over my shoulder. “It was really nice to meet you. I’m sorry, but I have to leave.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, but my bitch of an ex-roommate just walked in, and I can’t handle seeing her right now. I’m sorry,” I repeated.
“Wait, but—” he tried to say something, but I was already making my way around the far side of the bar and to the door.
My blood pounded in my ears as I stepped into the brisk night air. I’m an idiot. I should have known they’d go there. Seeing the two of them together again had caused a stronger reaction in me than I would have expected. Backstabbing bitches. I seethed as I made my way down the street, deciding that I wasn’t going to let them ruin my night. I would just go somewhere else. I didn’t want to go back to my dark, empty apartment just to lose myself in work again. There was another bar a half-mile down Main Street, and it was an easy enough walk. I’d go there.
My feet protested with each step as my heels tap-tap-tapped against the sidewalk, but I had walked further than this in heels before, and I wouldn’t let it stop me now. The alcohol had given me a nice, warm buzz, and the air didn’t feel as harsh as it had on my way here. It was barely 10 o’ clock, but I was already feeling much better than I had earlier.
The silence was pleasant, only interrupted by the occasional passing car as I took each careful step along the sidewalk. After a few minutes, I could see the soft, orange lights of the downtown area where the bar was located. Only a couple blocks to go.
But before I could reach the next block, the sound of a car engine slowed behind me, and the black car came to a stop ten feet in front of me. It took me a moment to register, but then I realized . . .
Damien stepped out of the car in a dark gray suit, and his face was shadowed with anger.
“Get in.”