"No." Dean’s face remained hard. Uninterested. "But we need to talk."
She gravitated closer to him, sliding her hand up to grasp his bicep with a squeeze. “Oh, really?” she purred, turning in the direction of the club.
Or the bathrooms…
Dean pulled out of her grip, sent a courteous nod my way as a goodbye, and then turned and left for the basement. Not once looking back or showing any sign of waiting for Roxy to catch up. Meanwhile, she glared after him, grinding her teeth in annoyance and flicking her hair with a shake of her head. Visibly brushing off the rejection before she went after him.
I pressed my lips together, forcing back a smile, and hurried back to the club.
I leaned on the wall by the front door of the quiet and empty club, resting the aching arches of my feet while I waited inside for my Uber. The time ticked over to 2:30 AM when I looked at my phone.
Jen and Xavier had left several minutes ago. They had offered me a lift home until they found out the drive back to my apartment was a little out of the way of their normal routes home. I told them not to worry about it. They were as tired as me, and I preferred they go home to bed.
Roxy had also already gone home, giving herself an early mark again, which meant Terry and I were the only two left.
While he was searching the booths and the bathroom stalls in case someone had passed out before closing time, I tapped my hands on my thighs and looked around the room. The lights were all off now, except for the ones behind the bar and the one above the door outside, casting soft, red hues of light through the gaps in the large red drapes on the front windows.
The red gave the room an eerie glow, and I found myself doing double takes at every shadowy area of the club, half expecting someone to step out — half expecting Murphy to step out. Or the guy who spiked my drink. Or even someone like James. I knew it was my imagination that made the shadows look like they were moving, but it didn’t stop the shudder from running the length of my spine.
I was safe with Terry around anyway and could see the light in the bathrooms was still on as he hummed his way along the stalls.
Without the music on, it was easier to pick up on the city's sound. Car horns, sirens. A loud thump against the window, and laughter just outside.
I jolted straight and peered through the gap in the drapes.
Five men were standing around just outside the window. One was Murphy, and the other three were his friends from earlier. All crowding around a fifth person before they shoved his back against the window. His dark hair, and the tattoos peeking out from under his clean black shirt, were the first things I recognized right before Murphy punched him across the face.
Dean’s head whipped to one side with a thud, spraying blood across the windowpane before my eyes.
“Terry, quick!” I was moving before I even knew what I planned to do, heaving open the front door and digging frantically through my purse for my pepper spray.
Murphy hit him again.
Why isn’t he fighting back?
Dean spat blood on the sidewalk and somehow managed a smirk. His teeth were stained red. "Is that it?"
Murphy chuckled but was far from amused. He gripped Dean by the shoulders and jerked his knee right between his legs. Dean keeled over, sucking in a breath as he dropped to his knees, cupping himself while the group laughed.
My fingers skimmed over the can, and I gripped it tightly, yanking it from my bag as my adrenaline spiked and I moved towards them. Murphy was readying himself to kick Dean in the side when I forced my way between them. I thrust the can up, aimed the nozzle at Murphy’s surprised face, and pressed down on the cap.
Nothing came out. The cap was stuck.
"Well, that was short-lived," Murphy smirked as he moved closer. "Step aside—"
In the blink of an eye, he suddenly wasn’t in front of me anymore, but sprawled on the sidewalk several feet to my right.
Terry had bulldozed Murphy to the ground with one shove.
"The fighting stays in the pit!" Terry growled, sending a glare to the rest of the group while they backed off warily.
That’s why Dean didn’t defend himself? Because of a rule for the basement?
Murphy scrambled to his feet, his face full of rage as he marched back towards Terry only to be stopped by his friends.
"It's not worth it. Look at the size of him," one murmured, glancing back at Terry's broad frame.
It took Murphy a second to reconsider before he reluctantly backed off, heading down the street with his friends in tow.
