The Bad Guy

“Spicy, I like it.” Hal slid his credit card to the bartender. “Whatever she wants, man.”

Link leaned down to my neck, his warm lips leaving wet kisses. “Missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” I stood on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Let me talk to Hal for a minute?”

“Right, the plan.” He slid his hands to my waist and dropped a final kiss on my lips. “I need to hit the head,” he announced far more loudly than necessary, then walked toward the back of the bar.

I slid onto the stool next to Hal.

He pried his gaze away from Veronica. “If I’d know you had friends like that, I would have insisted on taking you all for drinks a lot sooner.”

I couldn’t tell if it was a compliment, so I just smiled and nodded. Veronica slid a cocktail in front of me—something in a martini glass with curls of lemon and orange hanging along the sides.

“How are things at Trenton? Did you tell Mint I said hi?” He yanked down his wide tie and undid the button at his thick throat.

“I’m glad you mentioned him. Can I ask you something?” I sipped my drink. It wasn’t bad, just a bit tart.

“Shoot.” He clinked his lowball glass to mine.

I decided to cut to the chase. “Has anything changed over the past few months? Maybe with Mint’s parents?”

He set his glass down before taking a drink, then twisted it in a circle. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” I kept my tone light. “Just anything going on at home.”

“No.” He took a big swallow, then held up his finger to order another.

I leaned closer, though I didn’t enjoy getting in his space. “I was just curious. Mint is a particular favorite of mine, and I want to make sure he’s getting the best education possible at Trenton.”

He smiled, though the look was strained, and shook his head. “No, nothing I know of. Everything’s fine at home.”

“Okay. I was just curious.”

He fumbled his glass. “I mean, his parents are busy. My brother is out of the country a lot. So, Rhonda gets left alone here in the city.” His wide cheeks started to flush, and understanding dawned in my mind. Hal and Mint’s mother must have been having an affair.

He looked away. “Why do you ask? Did he say something?” His fingers tightened around his glass.

“No.” I leaned back. “I’m probably being over-protective. I sometimes go overboard when looking out for students. Sort of an occupational hazard for me.”

“Right.” He seemed to relax. “Yeah, Mint’s fine. Don’t worry about him.”

I sipped my drink. Mint must have found out somehow, which led to his falling grades and bad attitude.

Link reappeared and clapped Hal on the back. “Let’s get another round.”

Hal’s mood lightened, and he drained his glass. “I’m all for it.”

6

Sebastian

Camille turned to speak with the blonde she’d come in with, both of them easily the prettiest pair in the entire bar. The blonde was tall, leggy, and wearing a dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. I ignored her and focused on the real prize. Camille wore a demure skirt and top, nothing as flashy as her dress at the gala. Even so, the top hugged the curves of her breasts, the narrowing of her waist, and the flare of her hips.

Link ran his hands along her waist, and bloodlust darkened my vision. Why had I come here? When I’d overhead that moron Hal bragging about going for drinks with Link and his girl, I wanted to shake him and demand the information of where Camille would be and when. Instead, all I had to do was wait for him to give all the details about the bar and their plans during his loud boasting. I’d left work early and claimed a seat toward the back of dark bar, which gave me an excellent view.

I catalogued every move she made, from the way she pulled her hair over one shoulder to the slight jut of her hips when she favored her left foot. My need to possess her thrummed along with the steady beat of my heart, but I counseled patience. The trap was set and couldn’t be sprung until the appointed time. So I had to wait. But time couldn’t stop my growing obsession. I gave myself this little morsel of her until I could devour her completely. It would have to be enough.

But it wasn’t. I watched her—a butterfly unaware of my web—as she disentangled herself from Link and made her way toward the restrooms at the back of the bar. She skirted past me, only a few feet away, and her eyes were troubled. I needed to sit still, to meld into the crowd of social drinkers and drunks. Instead, I stood and followed her into the back hallway.