CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE CLARKE
Chapter Forty-five
Clarke
Ceci told Clarke she knew the perfect place. Some Blue Jet crew members had gone there the other night. Tilney had told them about it. It was quiet.
When Clarke opened the door to the bar, a couple of people had to get out of the way. It was that crowded.
They burrowed through the bodies, finding a corner that wasn’t quite so packed.
Ceci shook her head. “It wasn’t like this before.”
“It’s probably better. No one will notice us.”
The crowd around the bar was five people deep so they didn’t bother ordering drinks.
“Okay,” Clarke said.” I’m obligated to listen to you.”
“You are.”
“Do you think you might listen to me too?”
She huffed.
He bit his lip. “I say that because, as I recall, I wasn’t the only one doing the talking after I stopped you in the same way. You had plenty to say.”
“Is that your way of telling me you have plenty to say?”
“It seems to me we’re both saying plenty without saying anything at all.”
Just then, a guy who was obviously drunk stumbled backwards and bumped into Ceci, but Clarke caught her before she fell to the ground.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said, glaring at the man behind her. “I’m fine. Just forget him.”
Clarke tapped him on the back. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”
“For what?”
The guy was weaving and obviously drunk, but that was no excuse.
Clarke opened his mouth but then quickly shut it, thinking of Ceci’s objections to him intervening in the past. He looked over at her and held out his arm inviting her to deal with it.
She stared back at him.
Is she glaring at me? That would be just like her. Instead of directing her anger at the man she should be directing it at.
She mimicked him, indicating it was his move.
“Why are you doing that?” he demanded. “Surely you don’t want me to intervene. Every time I’ve done so, it only angered you. Not to mention the multiple injuries I suffered as a result.”
“Yeah, because you just have to make sure nothing untoward or inappropriate happens, like a woman saying words like cunt. You just have to insert yourself as the uptight, morally righteous Sir Stick Up His Ass you are.”
He leaned in, grinning. “You also referred to me as Sir Galahad. So which is it?”
“Good question. You tell me.”
“All right, tell me, what would Sir Galahad do?”
“Sir Galahad wouldn’t have to ask.”
He was grinding his teeth. He could hear the gritty abrasive sound echoing in his ears.
She would come up with a good answer.
The drunk man laughed. “Do you believe this guy?” he asked his friends. “What a pussy!”
Clarke grinned. “Why, thank you.”
The drunk nearly fell back he was so stunned. “Damn, dude, what happened to your balls? She take off with them?”
“They’re exactly where they should be. Why such an interest? I mean, they are spectacular, but you’ll never get the pleasure of seeing them. And you know what, dude, it’s just as well. I have the impression you’ve been emasculated enough.” He patted his shoulder with three solid thumps.
The guy threw a fist at him, but Clarke ducked and the fist only landed in the air. The guy’s face was bursting purple and filled with rage.
Here comes another fist.
I guess I’m going to have to hit him to get him to stop.
Sir Galahad, it is.
Clarke blocked the oncoming fist with one arm, threw the other one forward, and landed his fist like a rock in one side of the guy’s face.
This should have been the moment when he marveled at the fact that he remained unscathed after an altercation in a bar with Ceci Rivers by his side.
But after the guy went down, one of his friends stepped forward.
“Call the police!”
Of course, Clarke thought, Ceci Rivers is here.
I wouldn’t expect anything less.