Best Friend's Ex Box Set

“I told you,” he growled through clenched teeth. “You and me are going back inside to dance! That's what we're doing now!”

“I think those steroids you're on have taken hold of your brain!” I snapped, my anger now awoken. “And if you don't let go of me this instant, I'm gonna press charges against you!”

Just then a loud horn honked behind us.

“Taxi for a Miss Andrews,” the driver said as he got out. He was a chubby guy with long gray hair, a thick gray goatee, and a bandanna tied around his head. He looked like he was in his 60s.

“Hey,” he said as he saw me struggling against Paul's grip. “What the heck is going on here?”

“This guy won't let me go!” I cried.

“Back off, Son,” the taxi driver commanded. “This lady wants to go, and that's all that counts. She says no, she means it.”

“You best step back, Grandpa,” Paul snarled, his eyes wild with wrath. “I can bench press 300 pounds. I'll snap you like a twig.”

The taxi driver lifted his shirt to reveal a revolver tucked into his belt. He curled his fingers around the hand grip of the revolver, but didn’t pull it out.

“And I'm a veteran of the Vietnam War,” he growled. “I've killed more men than I care to count – and those were battle-hardened soldiers throwing grenades and shooting AK-47 rounds at me, not spoiled trust-fund gym rats like you who'd wet their pants at the first whiff of real danger. Now, get your hands off the lady and get out of here before you piss me off.”

Reluctantly, Paul let go of my wrist and stepped back, scowling and muttering under his breath.

“You just missed out on the greatest night of your life, you dumb cow,” he snarled. “Your loss, not mine. Every girl in that club would have killed for the opportunity I just gave you, but you blew it. Whatever, I don't even give a crap.”

He turned around and stormed back into the bar.

“You alright there, miss?” the taxi driver asked.

“I'm okay, yeah. Thank you so much for helping me,” I said. “I really appreciate that.”

“No problem. Being a taxi driver and working the night shift on weekends, I’m afraid I get to see a lot of behavior like that, and it makes me sick to my stomach. I'm just happy that I was able to step in and help you out there.”

“Thank you. I really, really appreciate it.”

“Don't mention it. Come on, get in. Where am I taking you?” He opened the back door of the taxi for me.

I slid into the car and gave him my address, and we left, chatting along the way. He was a really nice old guy, and I took his card for future occasions in which I might need a taxi driver. I said goodbye and then trudged up onto my porch. He sat and waited until I was safely inside my house before he drove off. I couldn't help but peek through the shade covering the glass of my front door across at Everett's house. The lights were off. I guessed he was passed out drunk or something.

“Why did you do that?” I said to the house. “Why did you stand me up like that, without even a word or a phone call? I thought you were different, Everett, I really thought you were different.”

Shaking my head, I dropped my purse and keys on the entryway table and went straight to bed.

***

I was having my morning coffee, reading the newspaper and feeling slightly hungover when my doorbell rang.

“Just a minute,” I yelled as I got up and headed over to a mirror to make sure I looked alright just in case it was someone aside from Mrs. Dobbins.

A t-shirt and shorts with my tied my hair up in a messy bun wasn’t exactly my best look, but despite how I felt, I did look okay.

I walked over to the front door and resisted peeking through the shade before I opened it. My jaw dropped when I found Everett standing there holding a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“Miss Andrews,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed. “I am deeply, deeply sorry about what happened last night. But trust me, there is a good explanation for it all, if you'll only give me five minutes of your time to explain everything.”

Chapter Twelve

Everett

“Everett?” Vivienne said, looking quite surprised to see me standing on her porch with a bouquet of flowers in hand. “I uh, well... yeah, yeah you do have a bit of explaining to do.”