Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Anthea
The neon lights in the bar painted Sarah's face in shades of blue and purple as she knocked back her third tequila.
"That bastard!" She slammed the empty glass on the bar, loud enough to turn a few heads. "He says we need a break. A break? The only break I'll give him is to never show his face again!"
She gritted her teeth, her eyes red-rimmed.
"He's gotta be into that new intern at his office. Last time, he took her to some fancy restaurant. We've been together for years, and he's never done that for me." Her voice rose. "Men are trash, absolute fucking trash!"
I raised my glass, clinking it against hers. The liquor burned down my throat, scorching all the way to my stomach. I'd lost count of how many I'd had. Everything blurred, light and fuzzy.
"Men are assholes," I echoed.
After venting, Sarah turned, her drunken eyes fixed on me. "What about you? You said on the phone you had some shit going on. What's eating you? Guy trouble too?"
I stared at the dregs in my glass, Silas's face flashing in my mind.
"I..." My voice came out dry. "Me and Olei's dad, Silas Thorne, we had something before."
Sarah's eyes widened. "What? I thought he just had his eye on you recently. Those teachers said when he dealt with Marcus, he called you his woman, but I figured it was just talk. You mean you two go way back?"
Gossip spreads like wildfire; the field day incident had made the rounds among the nosy teachers.
"Yeah, we met six years ago. Olei's my kid," I said.
"Holy shit, Anthea," she leaned in, her breath reeking of booze. "You never told me? So that guy who's hot enough to make your knees weak, driving a limited-edition Rolls-Royce, with bodyguards everywhere—he knocked you up six years ago?"
"Because..." My throat tightened. "He hurt me bad back then. Everything from six years ago was too painful. I couldn't even think about it."
The alcohol chipped away at the grievances and pain I'd buried for six years. I started spilling to Sarah in bits and pieces, sometimes forgetting mid-sentence what I was saying.
"He made me believe he loved me," I said, tears streaking my cheeks without warning.
"Gave me a ring, made promises, said I'd always be Olei's mom.
.. then what? The moment I gave birth to Olei, his dad and fiancée took my baby away.
I waited for Silas to show up, to stop it, but he didn't. Sarah, I didn't even know what Olei looked like. .."
Sarah's warm hand squeezed mine. "I'm so sorry, hon."
"Then I got chased out of the States. I thought he didn't give a damn about me, but now, now he's back. Says I misunderstood him, wants to start over. He's changed—more gentlemanly, thoughtful. He even learned to cook, you know? He wasn't like that before; he was bossy, a real jerk."
I covered my face in agony.
"He's worming into every part of my life. Those scars I thought would never heal, he's filling them with something new. I feel like I'm falling, knowing there's an abyss below, but I can't stop. I'm so scared..."
"Scared of what?" Sarah's tone softened.
"Of him hurting me again." I closed my eyes, my heart stabbing. "I don't think I could take it a second time."
Sarah went quiet for a bit, then spoke. "Maybe give trusting him another shot? He claimed you as his on the playground, took care of the bully—shows he cares. Babe, live in the moment. Don't obsess over what might happen."
I opened my eyes, looking at her.
"You only suffer if you're not in the now. If you shut out every possibility because you're scared of the future, that's no way to live." Sarah was hammered, but her words made sense.
Yeah? Why not try? Hiding in my shell out of fear was just hurting myself.
"You're right, Sarah." I downed another shot. "I'm gonna do what I want. No more fear."
Sarah chugged hers too, letting out a loud burp.
The world spun; bar lights stretched into streaks. My stomach burned like fire, but it felt good—exciting.
"I... I gotta hit the bathroom." I stood, wobbly, feet like cotton.
"I'll come!" Sarah got up. She'd drunk more but moved steadier.
She steadied me as we headed toward the restroom.
But three thugs blocked our path. The leader had yellow-dyed hair, a scar across his face, eyes slimy as they roamed over us. Behind him, one with a buzz cut, another with a single earring. They cut us off completely.
"Hey, ladies? Wanna switch spots? We'll keep you company, make sure you have fun till dawn." Yellow Hair licked his lips, his grin disgusting.
"Move," I said right away.
"Feisty one." He stepped closer, his foul breath hitting my face—I nearly puked. "But the feistier, the more fun to break."
His buddies leered.
The bar's music pounded; people glanced over but looked away, ignoring us on purpose.
"Back off, can't you hear?" Sarah snapped, voice sharp.
"This one's in a short skirt, total slut. Look at her, dressed like that, begging for it," Buzz Cut eyed her legs and chest.
"Fuck you!" Sarah shoved him hard. "Watch your damn mouth!"
"Bitch!" Buzz Cut's face twisted. He grabbed her hair, yanking back.
Sarah screamed, stumbling.
"Sarah!" I lunged to help, but the booze slowed me, legs heavy.
"Don't worry, pretty thing. Me and my boys will take turns tonight." Yellow Hair gripped my wrist, pulling me into him. "You'll never forget it."
"Let go." I struggled, but he was too strong.
Fear sobered me up fast.
"Let go?" He sneered. "You'll be begging me not to stop soon."
Earring Guy went to Sarah, telling Buzz Cut, who was still yanking and cursing her, "Hold off on teaching this bitch a lesson. Let's drag 'em to the alley out back first."
Buzz Cut grumbled but let go; Earring grabbed Sarah's shoulder, ready to haul her out.
"Help!" I yelled at the drinkers around us. "Please, somebody help!"
No one moved. My heart sank.
As Yellow Hair dragged me toward the door.
"Let her go."
The voice wasn't loud, but it stopped him cold.
I looked up. Silas stood there. The dim bar lights outlined his tall frame; his silver temples gleamed cold, like a reaper from the shadows.
But I wasn't scared. Seeing him, my panic eased.
Yellow Hair didn't know him. "Who the fuck are you? Mind your own—"
He didn't finish. Silas moved—a blur—and I heard a sickening crack of bone. Yellow Hair howled, his wrist bent wrong where he'd held me.
"My hand! My hand! Aaaah!" He rolled on the floor, clutching it.
People screamed, scattering, finally noticing.
The other two rushed Silas. Buzz Cut swung a bottle at his head. Silas dodged, elbowing his temple—the guy went down, out cold.
Earring pulled a switchblade; Silas grabbed his wrist, kneeing his gut. He doubled over like a shrimp.
In minutes, all three lay wrecked on the floor, Silas's clothes still pristine. He loomed over them.
"Bro... mercy!" Yellow Hair knelt at his feet. "We fucked up! Please, we won't do it again!"
"Yeah, our bad!" Earring clutched his stomach, pale. "We'll leave now!"
They apologized to me and Sarah repeatedly. Sarah stepped up and slapped the unconscious Buzz Cut's face swollen before stopping.
Silas's eyes met mine, like he was asking if I wanted to let them go.
"Don't pull this shit again," I said, head pounding like it might split, voice icy. "If we catch you messing with women, you won't get off this easy."
Silas lifted his chin, voice cold. "Get lost."
The two dragged Buzz Cut out, scrambling.
The crowd whispered now, eyeing Silas with awe and fear. He ignored them, waving a hand—two black-clad bodyguards appeared from nowhere.
"Get this lady home safe," he told them, nodding at Sarah.
Sarah left with the guards, shooting me a look like, "You didn't tell me he could fight like that."
Then it was just me and Silas. He stepped close; I tilted my head to meet his gaze. Lights danced on his silver hair; his sharp features deepened in the dimness.
"So, you came." I heard myself say.
Booze fogged my brain; he just made me feel safe. He was here, so everything was okay.
"Of course." His voice rumbled low.
He wrapped an arm around my waist; my body went limp, leaning into him to stand. He smelled of crisp cedar, just like I remembered. My face pressed to his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat.
"Let's get you home," he said.
I nodded vaguely, letting him half-carry me out. The cold night air hit; I shivered, burrowing closer.
A black Maybach waited curbside. A guard opened the back door at our approach. Silas bundled me in, sliding in after.
"Drive," he said.
The car purred to life. I sank into the leather seat, watching neon lights streak by outside. My head swam, but my senses sharpened—his scent stronger, more invading.
I turned to him. Passing lights shadowed his face: high nose, sharp jaw, those impenetrable gray eyes. I drank it all in.
I didn't know what possessed me. Maybe the alcohol torched my inhibitions, or Sarah's words echoed: live in the now, forget the future.
I crawled toward him. Next second, I straddled his lap.
My knees dug into the seat, hands on his shoulders. I was close enough to see a faint line at his eye corner, feel his breath on my lips.
"Anthea." His voice dropped, a warning laced with restraint.
I didn't answer. I stared into his eyes for a moment. Then I kissed him, bold and reckless. I forgot fears and doubts. I just wanted him—his kiss, his hold, him proving he loved me hard.
He froze for a second, then kissed back. One hand cupped my nape, the other my waist, pinning me. He dove deep, tongue thrusting almost to my throat.
The partition rose slowly, sealing us from the front. I clung to his neck, losing myself in the kiss, shoving aside thoughts of after.
At some point, the ambient lights in the car flicked on, bathing us in a soft, sultry glow. I didn't notice when Silas had hit the switch, but it turned the backseat into our private lair, shadows dancing over our skin like teasing fingers.