Chapter 10 #2
“Yup. That’s the one. It’s his local hangout. I can’t tell you how badly I want to go in there and give him a piece of my mind, but I know it wouldn’t do any good.” Leandra jumps off the ground. “Come on. Let’s go hit some shit. That always makes me feel better.”
About an hour later, I’m pulling out of the parking lot of the gym.
When I came to Shine, I hated waking up early.
It was something I had to do at the compound.
Be up before Otto so I could have breakfast ready for him and my father.
Sleeping in was one of my little rebellions, even though there was no one to rebel against anymore.
But now I love it. Probably because I’m doing something I love.
Something creative that I pour myself into.
I stop at a red light and look to my right. The neon sign of Lottie’s Tavern blinks at me. I remember it well. I ran out like my hair was on fire just over a month ago. That’s the night I decided I was done being a victim of my past and needed to do something more than survive and move on.
It sounds like Thea is still firmly in the just trying to survive every day headspace. And I hate that.
I turn right onto the street of the corner the bar sits on, parking my car and getting out.
Thoughts of what that man put the woman he was supposed to care for run through my head, as well as Leandra’s voice saying that she wishes her cousin would have called Roman.
She didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t stand up to him for her.
This is what I’ve been training for.
Roman thinks I’m close to being ready.
Tonight, I’m going to prove that I am.
I walk in and realize I don’t know what the guy looks like or if he’s even here. But if this is his watering hole, then chances aren’t too bad that I’ll run into him.
Walking up to the bar, I take a seat. There are more people here than last time, but it’s later in the evening. It’s a different bartender—thank God, because that would have been embarrassing, considering how I ran out last time.
“What can I get you?” the young woman asks.
“I’ll take a bottle of light beer.”
She nods and turns to get my drink. I have no intention of drinking it, but it would look odd sitting at a bar without something in my hand.
A group of guys enters the bar. They are all wearing uniform pants and black boots, but they all have on white T-shirts—as though they took their uniform shirts off to go get a drink after a shift. Like, say, a prison guard shift.
When the bartender returns and hands me my beer, I slide a ten-dollar bill across the bar.
“Is there a base around here or something? Those guys look like military,” I say.
She looks over to the group who are taking up a table in the back.
“Prison guards. They come in practically every night,” she answers.
“Oh, that makes more sense,” I say with a little giggle.
“Hey, Danny, it’s your turn to buy,” one of the guys calls.
“Yeah, and none of that cheap shit either, Crispin,” another jokes.
“Whatever, assholes, it goes down just as easy either way,” one of the men answers as he walks toward the bar.
This must be Danny.
I didn’t think to change, not that I had anything to change into, but my hair isn’t a complete mess, seeing as I took it out of the ponytail and brushed my long blonde locks before getting in my car.
I’m still in my gym clothes, but tonight that consists of a tight blue tank top and black yoga pants.
The loose clothing was getting in the way when I was training with Roman, so I’ve gotten used to more formfitting workout attire.
When Danny walks up to the bar, I sit a little straighter, pushing out my chest a bit.
My head turns to him slightly so I can watch him from the corner of my eye.
He’s standing two seats down from me, but no one is sitting between us.
After he orders, he turns his entire body toward me, and he isn’t subtle about scanning me from head to toe.
“Haven’t seen you here before,” he says.
I look around, faking confusion, as if I’m not sure he’s talking to me. “Oh. This is my first time here. I just got out of the gym and decided I wasn’t ready to go home quite yet.”
He gives me what I’m sure is supposed to be a charming smile, but he looks more like a shark showing all of his teeth.
“This might sound forward, but what if I drop this off to my friends”—he points to the pitcher of beer the bartender set in front of him—“and come back and have a drink with you?”
A deceptively coy smile tugs on the corner of my mouth. “Sure.”
“Be right back.”
He takes the beer to his friends and says a few words to them. One of the three guys looks over at me and doesn’t even try to contain his wolfish grin. They think he has me in the bag.
They’re wrong.
Danny comes back over with his beer and sits next to me, holding out a hand. “I’m Danny,” he introduces.
I slide my palm into his with a shy grin. “Cecilia.”
“Beautiful name,” he says, holding my hand a touch longer than necessary. “So you like to work out?”
“Yeah. I got into it a few months ago. I try to get in a workout a few times a week. There’s nothing like the endorphin rush from pushing your body.”
Once again, his gaze travels the length of me, and I have to control the shiver of disgust that rolls through me. Men like him only see one thing when they look at a woman, and judging by the way his eyes have a certain glint in them, I know exactly what that is.
“I hit the gym and do some lifting every now and then. Work keeps me pretty busy,” he says.
“Oh yeah? What is it you do?”
“I’m a prison guard. Work a lot of twelve-hour shifts.” He puffs out his chest a bit, like that’s supposed to be impressive.
“That must be interesting. And scary sometimes. I can’t imagine being around all those dangerous men.”
He gets a cocky smile that I want to slap off his face. “Nah. They know who’s boss in there. What about you? What do you do for a living?”
“Oh, I work for a food magazine. It’s just online right now. It’s mostly restaurant hotspots and up-and-coming places. That’s one of the reasons I got into working out. Eating out all of the time can really pack it on.” I let out a girlish giggle, and he eats it up.
“Maybe one of these days you can let me take you out to dinner. You must know the best places to go.”
“We’ll see,” I say with a suggestive smile.
Danny hums and takes a sip of his beer. He looks behind him at the two pool tables. “Do you play pool?”
“I have a couple of times. I’m not very good, though.”
“Well, you happen to be in the company of a pool expert. Come on, let’s grab a table.” He nods toward the back. “I can help you tighten up your game.”
Letting out another stupid, flirty giggle, I nod. “Why not?”
He gets up from his seat and holds out his arm, signaling for me to walk in front of him. When we get to the pool table, he racks the balls and grabs two pool cues from the wall, handing one to me.
“I’ll break and show you what to look for, okay?”
I nod and set my untouched beer on the table, pretending that I’m going to concentrate on what he’s doing. “Okay.”
Danny breaks, and nothing goes in. He points to a ball and shows me how to line it up and takes the shot. Again, he misses.
“I’m a little off my game tonight. You must have me nervous or something.”
Smiling sweetly, I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
I take my turn and miss. Not surprising, considering I really am terrible at this game. My sister is the pool shark of the family, but having watched her play a few times, I know that Danny isn’t nearly as good as he tries to boast when he takes his next shot and misses again.
He laughs it off, but I can tell he’s getting frustrated that he isn’t impressing me the way he’d hoped.
When it’s my turn again, I take the shot and it goes in. I jump up and down like an excited teenager.
“Good job. Now let’s see if you can do it again,” Danny says with a tight smile.
Might have hit a nerve with that shot.
I purposely miss the next. “Darn,” I say with a little frown.
Danny sends me a wink and walks around the table, studying the balls.
He’s making a big show of trying to find the perfect shot, and again, I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
Instead, I walk over to the tall table where my beer is sitting and wrap my hand around the bottle, squeezing it to release some of the pressure building inside me.
Pretending to give a shit about this guy and the stupid way he’s trying to impress me is grating on my last nerve.
Before Danny takes his shot, something behind me catches his attention. I turn around, and standing only a few feet from us is Cash.
And he looks fucking pissed.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cash asks, looking at the beer in my hand and then over to Danny before his ice-cold gaze finds mine again.
“You know this guy, Cecilia?” Danny asks.
Cash’s stare shoots to Danny. “Yeah, asshole, she does,” Cash answers before he turns his frigid blue eyes back to me. “And I thought I knew her, too.”
I’m speechless. I have no idea what to say or do at this moment. All the scenarios that ran through my head when I imagined how I would play this kind of thing never accounted for Cash showing up.
“Let’s go,” Cash says.
“I don’t think she wants to go with you, buddy,” Danny says.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, buddy,” Cash replies.
“It’s fine,” I finally choke out, standing from my chair and looking at Danny. “It was nice meeting you.” I grab my bag, and Cash turns, expecting me to follow—and I do.
When we get outside, I hurry my steps behind Cash’s long, angry strides to his bike that’s parked right behind my car.
“How did you know where I was?” I ask.
He whirls on me, anger flashing in his eyes. “That’s seriously what you want to know right now?”
“Are you tracking me?”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “Unbelievable. No, Cece, I’m not tracking you. I never thought I’d have a reason to. I was picking up a part for the bike shop and saw your car parked next to a bar. A fucking bar. You told me you stopped drinking.”
“Look, I can explain. I—”
“Are you drunk?” he asks, cutting me off.
“No. No, I didn’t have one sip. I swear.”
He releases another huff that tells me he doesn’t believe me.
“I swear to you, I didn’t drink anything. If you would just let me explain why—”
“Get in the car,” he demands, shutting me down again. “I’ll follow you home.”
The fact that he thinks he can demand anything from me without hearing what I have to say pisses me right off. I know exactly what it looked like, but Cash is refusing to let me explain—to hear my side.
I shake my head. “You know what? Don’t bother.”
Grabbing my keys from my purse, I unlock my door. Cash gets on his bike, and as soon as my car starts, I throw it in drive and take off down the street. If he won’t listen to me, then I’m not going to wait for him.
It doesn’t take long for him to catch up to me on the road. There’s only one highway between Shine and Ayre. When we get to my house, he pulls up behind me. I know Lucy is working tonight, which means Jude is probably at the bar with her.
I get out of my car and stand next to it with my arms crossed while he dismounts his bike.
“Are you going to let me explain now, or are you going to keep cutting me off?” I ask with a very obvious bite to my tone.
“You know,” he starts with a caustic chuckle as he stalks toward me.
“Imagine my surprise when what I thought was going to be a simple errand turns into me catching you out at a bar, flirting with another man. What the fuck are you doing?” he asks through a clenched jaw.
“Because to me it looks like you’re burning your life down and taking me with you.
You finally have something good, Cece, and you can’t deal with that, I guess. ”
“That’s not what was happening.”
“I saw you with my own two eyes. You were holding a beer and hanging out with that guy in a bar, for Chrissake. I’m not a fucking moron.”
“Could have fooled me,” I mumble under my breath, but he catches it, nonetheless.
“You know what? Fuck this.” He spins on his heel, and in four long strides, is back to his bike.
“Wait,” I call. I’m pissed, and he’s definitely not happy with me right now, but I have to make him hear me out. Because he’s right. My life is good. And I’ve worked hard to get it here.
“I wasn’t flirting to flirt. I…” Shit, how do I explain this? “I met this guy—”
“Are you serious right now? You’re running after me to tell me you met someone else?”
Immediately my head starts shaking back and forth before he finishes his sentence.
“No. Please let me get it all out.” He stares at me for a beat, then nods once.
“I got the number for a guy who makes men who hurt women pay. I guess you would call him a vigilante of sorts. You know how you met my friend Leandra in the store a few weeks ago?” He nods again, but his jaw is still set hard enough to cut glass.
“Okay. Her cousin’s boyfriend beat her to hell.
When Thea was at the hospital, one of the nurses gave Leandra a phone number for a guy who helps women out of those kinds of situations.
He sends a message, and if they don’t listen, he basically burns their life down.
When I didn’t show up at my self-defense classes for a few weeks after the kidnapping, Leandra thought maybe I’d found myself in the same situation as her cousin and gave me the number. ”
“What the hell does this have to do with you going to a bar?”
“I’m getting there.” I inhale a deep breath. “That guy you saw me with was the man who put Leandra’s cousin in the hospital.”
“What the hell, Cece?” he asks in a booming voice. “Why on earth would you put yourself in a situation like that?”
“I called the number Leandra gave me. Not because I needed his help, but because I want to do what he does. I met with him and asked him to train me. To make me a fighter. I don’t just want to be able to get away.
I want to be able to do some damage. Real damage.
Damage that makes them never hurt another woman again. ”
“Wait. So you’ve been training with a vigilante…to become a vigilante? And what? You were going to take that guy on?”
I nod. “Yes. And I still plan to.”