Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
As I stand outside the Rusty Ripper, I fiddle with Saylor’s necklace, which I started wearing this morning.
Wearing it just feels right now.
He’s mine.
The grin that spread over his face when I put it on alone was worth it. I place it back under my sweater, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. Saylor stands beside me, his demeanor now a mix of concern and disapproval.
“You sure you want to do this?” Saylor murmurs, his voice tinged with worry. “You don’t have to go through with it.”
I shake my head, my resolve firm. “I have to, Saylor. I need to send a message. They’d find out if I didn’t go, and maybe this will make them take a step back.”
Saylor sighs to himself, “You so don’t understand guys.” I shoot him a glare, but he ignores it and demands, “Promise me you’re not going to drink any alcohol.”
That’s no problem since I wasn’t planning on drinking anything, and if it eases his concerns a bit, it’s a win-win. “Promise.”
I step inside and see Adam already sitting at the bar. He stands when he sees me, a little too eagerly.
Stepping up in front of him, I force a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey, it’s so good you made it,” he says with a grin, reaching out to pull me into an unwelcome hug. I shiver, but not in a good way. “You look gorgeous, as always.”
His aftershave hits me like a wall, overpowering and unpleasant.
Breaking out of the hug, I sit on a barstool. “I’m sorry it took longer than expected. The restaurant was busy.”
Adam brushes off my tardiness. “Not a problem at all, gorgeous.”
Adam signals the bartender. “Two beers,” he orders, even though he still has a half-drunk one in front of him.
“Slo,” Saylor chides from behind me before I even had time to object.
So I quickly intervene. “Just water for me, please.”
Adam’s frown is evident, prompting Saylor to snark, “That dickhead wants to get you drunk.”
Two glasses are set in front of us, and as I take my first sip, I can’t help but notice the grumpy ghost from last time sitting farther down the bar, glaring at me again.
My heart sinks as memories of the first night I was here with Nash flood my mind.
Everything was so different back then, exciting.
And now, all I want to do is go home, wherever that may be.
Why did I suddenly think of the guys’ guest room?
Fuck.
Adam leans in closer, trying to regain my attention.
“So, Sloan, tell me… what do you like to do when you’re not working?
I’ve only ever seen you working boats or tables.
And poker cards.” His voice is smooth, but I can’t shake off my unease.
I can’t quite tell if it’s him or the grumpy ghost’s watchful eyes on me.
Saylor chimes in, “What’s that guy’s problem?” he asks, nodding toward the ghost.
I shrug, giving both of them an answer. “Not quite sure.”
Adam laughs, reaching out to touch my knee. “Smart, beautiful, and funny too.”
God, coming here was such a mistake.
The only point I’ve proven is that I don’t want to be touched by anyone else but the Jones boys.
And that’s not a good point.
“Get your dirty fucking hand off my girl,” Saylor spews, and I quickly stand from the barstool, taking a step back.
“I need the bathroom,” I tell Adam, who smiles and nods.
“You need to walk the fuck out of here,” Saylor commands as I make my way over to the hallway that leads to the toilets.
Inside the women’s bathroom, I splash some water on my face.
“Slo, he is obviously not getting the hint and thinks you’re interested.
I told you this won’t just slide as a hangout. Just go.”
“I can’t just go. I agreed to be here, and he waited, and—” I start, but Saylor cuts me off.
“You don’t owe him shit. You don’t even have to say anything. Just leave. Fuck politeness.” He is fuming, and I get it. I think I would act worse if a girl tried to flirt with him.
But I want to stay here, in Lubec, make this my home, a town where everyone knows everyone. Pissing one of them off could make all of them hate me. People who hate me are more willing to call me crazy if they ever see me acting weird around them.
“I’m just gonna sit there for a few more minutes, make small talk, drink my water, and tell him I’m tired. Okay?” I take a deep breath, looking in the mirror and making sure my face doesn’t look as exhausted as I feel.
“I don’t like this. Not one bit,” Saylor announces, but he can’t do shit about it, and he knows.
We make our way out of the bathroom just to come face-to-face with the grumpy ghost.
“Get the fuck out of my bar,” he exclaims, glaring at me even more intensely than before.
“What is your fucking problem?” Saylor asks, standing in front of me, but I side-step around him.
“My problem is that she looks at me like she wants me gone,” the man accuses before his gaze finds mine again. “No, I don’t see a light, and I don’t want to. This is my bar, and I’ll leave over my dead fucking body.”
“Spoiler alert,” Saylor mutters.
“Shut up,” I hiss at Saylor.
“Okay, no problem. Sounds like you know your options, and you can stay if you’re fine here—” I start, really not giving a shit if that ghost wants to stay here forever. It’s not like he’s bothering anyone.
“I’m more than fine. Leave me the fuck alone.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Perfect, so stop glaring at me because if you’re fine, I’m fine, and there is no reason to be so hostile.” I frown, trying to keep my voice low.
With one last glare, the ghost turns and walks out of the hallway.
“Everything all right?” Saylor asks as he turns to me.
“Yeah, but Adam probably thinks I have stomach issues at this point.” I scrunch up my nose.
Saylor laughs. “He can fuck off anyway.”
We make it to the bar, and I sit back down under Adam’s curious gaze. “You all right?”
“Sure, I’m sorry.” I give him a small smile, taking a sip of my water. “How was your day?”
I’m trying to make him talk so I don’t have to, and it works.
Looks like Adam likes to talk about himself.
But I can’t focus on him, my gaze fixed on the clock on the wall over his head, counting the minutes until enough time has passed to be considered polite to excuse myself. The more he talks, the closer he leans, his voice low and smooth, but he doesn’t touch me anymore, so that’s a win.
Saylor is just standing next to me, arms crossed, radiating frustration.
“… I can take you on the boat and out there sometime soon if you like,” Adam offers, but I’ve no idea what he was just talking about.
My thoughts grow fuzzy, and I struggle to focus on his words. My head starts to spin, and a heavy lethargy creeps over me at a fast pace.
Fuck, what is happening?
“Slo, you all right?” Saylor asks, seemingly noticing that I’m not feeling well.
“I should get going,” I mumble, my words slurred. My limbs feel like lead, and my eyelids droop despite my best efforts to keep them open.
Adam smiles, his eyes narrowing with a sinister glint. “Already? But we’re having such a good time.”
“You fucking dick, what did you do?” Saylor gets beside Adam, yelling at him, but of course, he can’t see or hear anything.
My heart races, and I push myself to speak, though my voice betrays my panic. “I-I just remembered something… need to do early tom… ow.”
I try to move, but I almost slip off the barstool, and Adam reaches out to grab my upper arm to steady me. A concerned voice breaks through my haze. Another patron nearby asks, “She okay, Adam?”
Panic surges within me, but my tongue feels too heavy to respond now.
“She’s had a little too much,” he reassures him with false concern, his voice dripping with deceit. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely and sleeps it off.”
“You fucking liar! She only had water, goddammit. You all saw it!” Saylor accuses the patron and the bartender.
The concerned patron hesitates but finally nods, returning to his beer. I feel a sinking sensation in my chest as I realize I’m on my own here.
My muscles refuse to obey, and my body feels like it’s sinking into the barstool. Panic spikes within me as I realize he must have drugged my water, but I’m powerless to do anything about it. My mind screams for me to get up, to fight, to scream for help, but my body remains unresponsive.
“Sloan,” Saylor exclaims, panic written all over his face when he tries to reach for my arm, but I’m so numb I can’t even feel the tingling.
Adam pulls me off the barstool. My legs wobble beneath me, and I stumble, almost falling to the floor. He grips me so tightly that it will leave a bruise for sure and drags me toward the exit.
“Say something, Slo. Anything. Scream!” Saylor urges me, but the more I try, the fuzzier I feel.
Each step feels like a monumental effort, and my vision blurs as fear and panic consume my thoughts.
I want to scream, to escape, to break free, but my body betrays me, leaving me helpless in Adam’s grasp while he opens the door to the bar and gets us both outside into the dark night, only illuminated by the street lamps.
If he gets me to another place, I’m done.
“If you can’t scream, let yourself fall to the ground,” Saylor commands, and I go limp.
Adam laughs. “Come on, only a few more minutes, we’re gonna have fun. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m gonna kill you. I’m going to find a way to fucking pummel your face, you dirty piece of shit.” Saylor is still fuming, but his voice is laced with fear.
Adam grips me harder and holds me tighter to his chest, my feet dragging over the ground while he starts to walk again, but I can’t see where we’re going since my eyelids refuse to open again.
I hear two car doors slam shut, and I wonder if he’s going to drag me in his car.
“Thank fuck,” Saylor lets out a watery sob when different, warm hands grab me and pull me out of Adam’s grasp.
I’m lifted into a bridal hold, and I smell the mix of spices of the expensive cologne I’ve come to know, which makes my panic come down a notch.
Nothing bad can happen when Satan has your back.
I’m slack, and my head is lolling back, but his lips find my ear as if he knows I can still hear everything.
“We’ve got you.”
As I dangle in his arms, I can’t see what’s happening, but I can hear the muffled sounds of a struggle.
Nash’s voice, filled with fury, cuts through the air. “What did you do to her?”
There’s a sickening thud, followed by the sound of what I hope is Adam being pushed against a wall and not Nash.
“Chill out. She just had a little too much to drink. I was getting her home.” Adam tries to defend himself.
“Fucking liar,” comes from Saylor.
“She was in there for half an hour. Nobody gets this blackout drunk in half an hour.” North’s voice is low and steady, but his tone is as cold as I’ve ever heard.
“Maybe I helped out a bit, okay? Chill, we all do that, right, Nash?” Adam asks, but it is the wrong thing to say, given how a strangled sound comes from him next.
There is a pause, and Nash’s voice is strained when he grinds out, “Don’t compare me to you. I would never stoop that low, and if I’d known you did, I would have kicked your ass long before now.”
Nash isn’t holding back. He’s delivering punches with relentless anger, each hit making a sickening sound.
“Told you I’d find a way to fuck up your face, dickhead,” Saylor exclaims from beside me.
My body trembles in North’s arms, prompting him to shush me gently before he intervenes, his voice more controlled but equally stern. “Nash, that’s enough. You’re gonna kill him.”
“Not before he tells me what he’s given her!” Nash roars, the intensity of his voice making me shiver once more.
“N-nothing bad, okay? She’ll sleep it off. She’ll have no memory of this tomorrow, like nothing happened,” Adam stutters, and the final thud that follows his words leaves him groaning.
“Fucking dick. You laid your dirty hands on our girl… that’s what happened,” Nash’s voice comes now from beside me, and he gently kisses my forehead, whispering, “I’m so sorry, pretty girl.”
I can hear Adam breathing, whistling with every breath, “You’re fucking crazy. That’s how you treat a friend?”
Nash’s reply is swift, “I’d never be friends with someone who does shit like that.”
Then, North chimes in, his voice cold and unforgiving, “And I’d never employ some sick bastard like you.
You’re fired, and we’ll make sure you won’t get a job with any other company we have ties to.
And when she wakes up and decides she wants to report your sorry ass, I’ll make sure you’re gonna be locked away in the dirtiest hole they have. ”
I shudder at the thought of anyone getting locked away, even when he deserves it.
We turn and walk away, Adam’s harsh breathing and mumbled pleas fading with each step.
The concern in Nash’s voice is undeniable. “Give her to me so you can drive.”
But North only takes one hand off me and slightly fidgets until I hear the clinking sound of keys. “You drive. I’ll sit with her.”
With great care, North gently places me in the back seat.
The scent of the BMW immediately envelops me, a mixture of expensive leather and the familiar smell of North’s cologne.
I feel strangely comforted by it. Nash seems to take the driver’s seat while North climbs in next to me, cradling me against his chest, his arms protectively encircling me.
Whispering softly in my ear so only I can hear, North reassures me, “You’re safe, baby. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again.”
His words are the last thing I hear before I’m pulled under.