Chapter 8 The Afterparty
THE AFTERPARTY
ZEKE
I appreciated the way the lights in the kitchen granted me the opportunity to look at Maggie outright.
There was a craftsmanship to the way her sparkly eye makeup highlighted her best feature.
Huge curls bounced down her back with every movement, a cascading array of dark colors, and I had to physically restrain myself to keep from touching them.
I didn’t know how hair could be so long and thick.
Her cheeks were rosy, and part of me hoped that it was because of the effect I had on her, but I was too chicken to ask.
Just like the peacock I pegged her for, everything about Maggie drew me in.
But something seemed off about her appearance, almost like trying to note tiny details while an image started to blur.
I didn’t know a thing about the stuff women used on their bodies, only what Army regulations said.
And I was too afraid of a sexual harassment claim to ever tell a female soldier that their hair, makeup, or nails weren’t compliant.
I wanted to see what Maggie looked like beneath the big curls and sparkles.
I caught a glimpse of it when she laughed.
God, I needed to keep giving her a reason to make that sound.
It could be the soundtrack of my life. And that smile…
she could probably get me to agree to just about anything by sending that smile in my direction.
It was raw and real. Exactly how I wanted to get to know Maggie.
Something definitely changed after I called her Trouble. I meant it more for myself, as in getting to know Maggie Eaton would cause me a lot of trouble, but I think she took it the wrong way. Her entire body language changed, and she rushed off with a full bottle of alcohol in hand.
Reasonably, I knew there were plenty of underage people drinking tonight.
Maggie couldn’t be the only one, especially with a party so jampacked full of people.
But she was the only one I cared about and that meant I didn’t want her to be in any kind of danger, even if it was only the danger of getting caught by the police.
She didn’t seem ready or willing to give up the bottle just yet though, so I planned to stay close to her just in case.
If a cop came along, I would take the bottle out of her hand and push her behind me.
Hopefully that would be enough, but I didn’t know how cops broke up a party. I’d never been to one before.
As I followed Maggie back out to the living room, where most of the furniture had been pushed along the walls to create a pseudo-dance floor, I realized just how much I didn’t know about social interactions. The glaringly obvious thing at the moment? How to dance.
Maggie was easily the most captivating girl in the room.
The way her hips swayed to the beat of the music mocked the way my heart raced at the sight.
I wanted to rip off the head of every man in the room for even breathing the same air, which was entirely irrational.
Who honestly felt that way over someone they just met?
And while I accepted that it was wholly illogical to want to keep her all to myself, I was also thrilled to feel anything at all. Some people simply lived their lives alone. That was a fact of life. I never minded that I might be one of them until now.
Celeste, Maggie’s friend, siddled up to me after more than an hour of watching Maggie dance.
In that time she had managed to polish off what remained in the bottle she snagged from the kitchen as well as several cups of beer that Celeste brought her.
I noted the way Celeste’s frown grew deeper each time, as though she procured the drink against her better judgement.
“She’s had too much,” Celeste yelled. Worry lines etched across her forehead. “I can’t get her to stop, though. And I need to be leaving soon to get back to my daughter.”
Ah, so she was a mother. That explained why she appeared so anxious over Maggie’s well-being. I liked her even more than before.
“I can take her home,” I offered. “Your kid has to come first.”
Uncertainty flashed across her face as she chewed on her bottom lip. “I can’t ask that of you…”
“You didn’t ask. I insisted,” I replied with the same level, firm tone that typically made my soldiers pay more attention. “Let’s go tell Maggie.”
Weaving through the gyrating bodies, I made my way over to Maggie, who stood in the center like a glittery disco ball. Sweat ran down her face, smearing her makeup, but she threw her hands up in the air in time with the music.
“Maggie, I’ve really gotta go!” Celeste shouted next to me. “It’s getting late. Hayes said he could take you home.”
Maggie’s eyes darted to me and for a split second I saw surprise there before the same distant look as before settled back in place. A mask she wore for me? Why?
“But I wanted us to have fun!” Maggie protested. She grabbed her friend’s hand and tried to get her to shimmy along, but Celeste wouldn’t budge.
“I have to go!”
Some of the steam seemed to come out of her because Maggie slumped forward to give Celeste a brief hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow!”
Meanwhile, Celeste turned back to me, her index finger pointing straight between my eyes and pinned me with all the sternness I’d expect from a mom.
“You harm one hair on this girl’s head and I will have the entire Smithson County Sheriff’s Department come after you! She’s important to me. Keep her safe.”
I fought back the urge to salute. “I swear on your kid’s life that Maggie will be safe with me.”
If the vow upset her, Celeste didn’t let on. Jerking her finger one last time in my face as if she needed to drive the point across, she waved goodbye to Maggie and slipped out through the writhing bodies towards the dining room where the back door was located.
Maggie turned to me with a lazy smile, the sway to her step more to do with the alcohol pumping through her system than rhythm. “Dance with me, Ezekiel Hayes?”
Every fiber of my being screamed in protest. Dancing would never be a skill I mastered.
I didn’t really want my first time to be in a crowded room of sweaty strangers.
But it wasn’t like I could deny such a simple request from her.
And oddly enough, the thought of touching her again was exhilarating.
My throat felt too tight to swallow as I took another step towards her.
There was no room between us, and she hiked a thigh up so that her long leg wrapped around my hips.
Her hands snaked their way up my neck and into my hair.
Suddenly Maggie’s scent was everywhere, like a balmy coconut and sunshine that made me long for a home I’d never known.
Her breasts pressed against my chest when she arched her back, the ripple of her movement traveling the length of her body so that she thrust her hips against mine.
The sharp sting of arousal had me stumbling backward.
Maggie must’ve thought I was trying to dance along because she returned her leg to the ground and began shaking her hips in a figure eight along my groin.
Thankfully the loud music covered my moan.
The hard on I now sported felt strong enough to cut glass.
While I knew nobody in the room paid any attention to us, Leggett’s face burst into my mind and my hands dropped from Maggie’s waist as if hit with acid. This time Maggie noticed and stopped dancing, too. Something in my face sobered her enough to ask, “Zeke, are you okay?”
All I could think of were fists slamming into my side. Bare skin on bare flesh. And pain. So much pain. It left me gasping for air until the beating ended.
Now the room darkened as all the oxygen escaped. Just like then. Just like the beating. I wasn’t gonna make it this time. I couldn’t make it. I didn’t want it to end like this—
“ZEKE!” Both of Maggie’s hands cupped my face, forcing me to look at her.
My chest hurt like I had just completed a twenty mile ruck march at a ten minute pace.
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my forehead and onto Maggie’s fingers, but she didn’t seem to care.
“Just focus on me, okay? Can you do that for me? I need you to focus, Zeke!”
She held my face too tightly for me to nod, but I still couldn’t speak. I settled for mimicking her breathing, taking deep inhales through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. We completed five rounds before I managed to gasp, “Thank you.”
“I think you were having a panic attack,” she replied.
“Okay.” I didn’t know what to say. Army Rangers didn’t get panic attacks. I had already gone on a year long deployment shortly after completing my training. My sergeant rank came from my honorable service in Afghanistan. There was no way I just had a panic attack.
“I think it’s our sign to leave,” she said, gesturing towards the dining room.
She didn’t need to tell me twice. I couldn’t wait to get out of this place.
Rather than going out the back, I grabbed her hand and led her through the front door.
My truck was parked further up the road to ensure nobody hit it, or worse, blocked me in.
After several seconds of Maggie wobbling beside me, I realized her stiletto heels and the dark street made it impossible for her to walk.
Once again, I didn’t think. Her siren’s call just directed me on what to do. Swinging her legs out from under her, I pulled her up into a bride’s hold and continued down to the end of the driveway.
“Zeke, put me down!” she objected instantly. “I’m too heavy.”
That made me laugh. “Trouble, you probably don’t even weigh a hundred and ten pounds. I can bench press more than twice your body weight.”
She huffed, a disgruntled sound that didn’t match the way her head rested against my shoulder. “Fine, but only because I don’t want to break an ankle.”
“Why are you wearing such ridiculous shoes anyway?” I asked.
“Because they complete the look!” Maggie sounded like the point was obvious. Maybe it was. I didn’t know a thing about women’s fashion.
“Don’t they hurt? It can’t be natural for your feet to go up like that.”
After a moment, she sighed. “Yes, but that’s not the point. They completed the look, so I wore them.”
“Even though you can’t walk safely in them and now your feet hurt?” I repeated.
“Yes!”
We reached my truck, which I unlocked before placing her in the passenger seat.
I rounded the front and climbed in next to her, grateful that we were far enough up the road that a streetlight permeated some of the darkness.
“Where to?” I asked quietly. I hated that our night had to end when I still didn’t know enough about her.
Maggie sighed again and leaned her head back. “Nowhere, really.” Her voice was so low I almost didn’t hear her.
Wait—was she homeless? A sinking feeling started in my gut. There was no way I had it in me to drop this girl off at a shelter.
I put the car in drive and headed back towards post.
“Where are you going?” she asked in annoyance.
I didn’t trust myself to answer, just continued on my way to the Fairfield Inn close to post. It was probably the nicest hotel in the area and would be the safest option for her.
Maggie didn’t say a word as I pulled into the lot and parked in front of the front door. Worried that her feet might still hurt, I walked around to the passenger door so I could carry her inside. She held up a hand and slowly shook her head.
“Listen…I’m not sure what you think is going to happen here, but…” Her voice trailed off, uncertain and small.
Oh god, she thinks I’m propositioning her!
“I think you’re going to get a good night’s sleep in a safe place and a warm breakfast in the morning.
I’ll pay for it and give you the cash for an Uber tomorrow.
Or I can take you wherever you need to go,” I tacked on, trying to buoy the hope that rose at the thought of seeing her again tomorrow.
“I don’t even have to go up to the room with you, if you don’t want. I just need to know you’re safe.”
At that, Maggie shot me a quizzical look. Whatever future our relationship had stood on the precipice of that look.
“You don’t want to come up?” she questioned cautiously.
“Not unless you want me to, and certainly not for any reason other than to talk to you.” I would let her tell me every detail of her entire life’s story without complaint if it meant I could stay in her presence.
The longest twelve seconds of my life stretched between us as I waited for her answer.
“Okay. I’d like that, too,” she finally whispered. A small smile played at her lips as I scooped her up once more.