Macy stills for a moment....and another. She takes a deep breath before slowly looking up and over to the pretty boy who obviously knows her. Recognition is evident in her movements. It’s clear that she knew him by his voice alone.
“Hey, Chase.” She smiles at him, but this isn’t a rainbow smile. It’s forced and it doesn’t meet her eyes. Macy isn’t happy to see Chase. I want to be thrilled by this but there’s something in her pinched expression that gives me pause. She doesn’t want him here.
Well, that makes two of us, Macy. I don’t want this asshole here either.
She turns back to me, sliding the drink toward me across the bar. Her movements are more hesitant now, like she doesn’t know exactly what to do next. She pauses for a moment after I put my hand around the drink as though she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. She takes a step backward to walk away when Chase stops her. He reaches across the bar and snatches her wrist, causing her to look up sharply. I can see that she’s worried....maybe even scared, but she also has fire in her eyes.Atta girl.
In the deepest tone she can manage, she says, “I told you to never touch me again.”
He doesn’t let her go. Instead, he pulls her toward him, saying, “Please, baby. I told you...I’m sorry. We need to talk about this. You can’t keep ignoring me.”
Every inch of my skin is tingling with awareness, and my eyes are taking in every nuance of the situation. She’s scared of this man, but she doesn’t want to show it. She’s got bravado for sure, but he doesn’t seem to care.
Her eyes narrow even further at his ‘you can’t keep ignoring me’ comment. She cocks her head to the side in a challenge. No trace of the fear I saw only a moment ago is present anymore. “You don’t tell me what to do. I said it’s over, so it’s over.”
Chase squeezes her wrist tighter and jerks her toward him. The other two bartenders notice what’s going on, and they both rush toward Macy but it’s too late.I was here first.
CHAPTER 2
Elijah
My right-hand whips out, catching Paul Walker in the jugular with the outer edge of my palm. His gurgling gasp is barely audible over the loud thud of my hand against his throat. He immediately releases Macy’s wrist in favor of grabbing said throat with both hands. His eyes are wide and panicked. He still can’t get enough air. He takes two stilted steps back while choking and spluttering.
The two male bartenders are already at Macy’s side. They’re wearing identical, devious, satisfied grins. Their eyes are pinned on the blond dick weasel clutching his throat. They must have noticed when this guy grabbed her and attempted to come to her aid. Casually, I stand and grab pretty boy Macy toucher by the nape of the neck. The whole situation is under control in a matter of seconds. No one in the bar seems to have taken notice of the man struggling for breath beneath my unyielding grip. They continue to dance and turn up their glasses without paying us much attention.
I turn back to Macy with a quick, “Save my seat”, before roughly escorting the red-faced, wheezing dirtbag through the gyrating throng of people to the front door. He makes no attempt to resist me, instead just putting one shaky foot in front of the other. No one looks at this guy with sympathy. No one even looks at this guy. Drunk folks are not observant folks, and no one does drunk quite like us Texans.
The bouncer appears to recognize said pretty boy. As we get closer to him, his glare becomes murderous. This clearly isn’t his first time seeing Paul Walker.
“You got this?” I ask him as he comes toward us.
“I’ve got this.” He assures me in a tone that almost makes me feel sorry for the poor bastard until I remember the subtle fear I saw in Macy’s eyes. I leave the dick-whittler bent over, still gasping, in the capable hands of the much larger bouncer and turn back to the bar.
There she is.I see her as I turn around. She’s standing on my barstool, watching me.She saved my seat.The rest of the bar fades out. I can’t see anyone but her. The music changes. All I can hear in my head is Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers. The smile that overtakes my face is completely out of my control. Her face is captivatingly curious until she sees my grin and then she breaks out into a heart stopping megawatt smile.
I still hear it. The music.I’ve hungered, hungered for your touch.Actual sparkles leak out from the corners of her mouth. The song in my head starts to wrap up with my thoughts in lyrical form.God speed your love to meeeeee.
Fuck. A. Duck. This wasn’t a fair fight. I never stood a chance.
As I get closer to my seat, she puts one foot behind her, stepping backward up onto the bar in one fluid, practiced motion. She never takes her eyes off me. Her smile never wavers. Once she has both heeled feet on the bar, she turns and jumps down. Sails down. Like a swan. The male bartender whom I hadn’t noticed, is still standing here until now, slides my credit card back to me across the bar. I look up at him, confused.
“You just made my night, man. His too.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder to the other male bartender, who swiftly goes down on one knee as if to bow before a king. “Your money is no good here tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t-”
He holds a hand up to stop me. “Please. Let us. We hate that fucking guy. Something tells me you would too if” He pauses, seeming to rethink his next words. “Well, you just strike me as the kind of guy that wouldn’t take too kindly to guys like Chase.”
I look at him intently, trying to read into what he isn’t saying.
Chase was obviously in some kind of relationship with Macy, and he messed up. He wants forgiveness, and she isn’t willing to give it. He’s clearly getting more desperate since he showed up here at her work to change her mind.
I hold up my credit card. “Thanks, man. You’re probably right about that. I’m Elijah.” My hand is now hovering over the bar, waiting for him to take it.
The guy’s smile widens before he takes my offered hand.Fucking pretty boys. It’s obviously Macy’s type if Chase is any indicator, and there’s no way this guy isn’t attracted to her.Hopefully, she doesn’t mix business with pleasure. Well, not on that side of the bar anyway.
I look back at Macy, and she’s still looking at me. She slides a fresh drink to me. “You didn’t have to do that.” She says this while maintaining steady eye contact with me.
“I did, actually. You haven’t met my momma yet, but there was really no way around it.”
