Chapter 17 – Grant
SEVENTEEN
GRANT
His humiliation was made complete by a man named Derek.
I didn’t really stop to think about it. I saw the text asking for help, so I told her I was coming.
Ricky had the night off and I wasn’t waiting for an Uber at this hour.
I drove. If it was just me, I didn’t experience the kind of anxiety I did if there was someone else in the car. Case in point, I had a garage with three different cars. I grabbed a set of keys to one of them and hit the fob to show me which car I’d selected.
I got behind the wheel of the black Mercedes, took a breath before I pushed the start button.
A hundred scenarios played out, as I drove to the club. She wouldn’t text me unless it was serious.
What if someone spiked her drink?
What if she was being harassed by some dude?
What if she’d been kidnapped?
Stop.
Anna wasn’t stupid. She was too grounded and street-savvy to let herself get into too much trouble. No doubt What’s-her-face was the problem and Anna just needed help in dealing with her.
I pulled up to the corner where the building was located and found a parking spot directly out front, Uber being the transportation of choice for most patrons.
The line to get inside still wrapped around the one-story industrial building that had been converted into a nightclub, but I didn’t waste time with that and walked up to the bouncer directly.
“I need to get inside,” I announced myself to a large bald man, sitting on a stool.
I was wearing jeans, a simple t-shirt, the sneakers I’d shoved my feet into, and a lightweight coat. My hair was probably a mess from laying on the couch, but it wasn’t like I was going to take time to primp before my rescue mission.
“Yeah, there’s the line,” the beefy man said.
“I’m Grant Allen. I know the club owner. Make this simple for me and I’ll make it worth your while.”
I pulled out my wallet and extracted a hundred dollar bill.
He eyed it warily.
“You let a young woman in tonight with the name of Anna Flowers, a name I couldn’t make up on my best day. I was the one who made the call to put her on the list.”
The bouncer smiled, revealing a gold incisor tooth. “Yeah, that was crazy. Okay, dude, you’re in.”
I handed him the bill, which he quickly tucked away in his back pocket, and walked through the door he held open for me. The music blasted me like a sonic wave, and I had the dark thought that she better damn well be in trouble for me to have to do this.
It didn’t take me long to find who I was looking for, as they were currently just inside the entrance causing a stir as the inside bouncer tried to handle the situation.
“She’s not going home with him,” Anna was telling the bouncer. Another overly tall, overly buff type, who didn’t appear to be following her train of thought.
“He wants to take her home.”
“She’s too drunk. She doesn’t know what she wants.”
“I waannnnt hiiiimmm,” Claire cried. She was currently sitting in a chair by the door, her head slumped back, her arms at her sides.
Another man beside the bouncer stepped closer to Anna. “Look, Anna, I’m not going to hurt her. I’m just going to take her home. I offered to take you home, too…”
The man speaking to Anna looked familiar. Not in the sense that I knew him, only in that he was infinitely repeatable in any nightclub in Houston. A club-rat. Handsome, slick clothes, a lot of hair gel, rings on too many fingers.
“I’m not getting in a car with a stranger, and I’m not letting you take my friend home,” she said, getting in his face. “We stick together.”
That was my girl.
No, not my girl.
My Anna.
No, not my Anna.
Anna was being smart because she was doing what I’d told her to do and that pleased me. That was all.
“I can’t just put you in an Uber,” the club-rat told Anna. “You won’t be able to get her out of the car. She’s too drunk.”
“Aaaamm noooot,” Claire cried out again, her head practically rolling along her shoulders.
“Yeah, and how did she get that way? How many shots did you buy her? Five, six?”
“She said she could handle it,” he said, somewhat defensively.
“Obviously not,” Anna countered.
“Look, we don’t want any trouble here,” the bouncer said. “Why don’t you take this outside and figure it out?”
“I’m waiting for someone to come help me,” Anna told the bouncer.
“Your wait is over,” I said, pushing into the circle so Anna could see I’d arrived.
“E.G.! Thank God,” Anna declared. “I need help getting her out of here.”
I nodded and walked over to where Claire was sitting.
Her head popped up. “Oh my gosh, she said she was going to call you but I said noooo! You’re scaaaary!”
“Excellent.”
I bent down to wrap her arm around my neck to lift her into a standing position, but as soon as I did, I realized how much dead weight she was. Quickly, Mr. Club-rat took her other arm, and between the two of us, we managed to help her to the door, while Anna followed behind us.
The bouncer, gracious enough or relieved enough to be rid of us, opened the door.
It wasn’t until we actually reached my car when I realized the problem.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t put What’s-her-face and Anna in my car. There was no way I could handle one passenger, let alone two. I couldn’t do it.
“Flowers, you’ll need to drive,” I said, as if that made all the sense in the world. It wasn’t ideal, but I was better as a passenger.
“What? Why?”
“Because. The keys are in my back pocket. Reach in and grab them so you can unlock all the doors.”
“Yeah, no.”
I closed my eyes, trying to maintain my temper. Although the only person I was angry at was myself.
“Flowers, seriously. Now is not the time for me to explain myself. You’ll need to drive.”
“I don’t know how to drive,” she muttered.
I was still holding up half of What’s-her-face and had to re-adjust her weight so I could look at Flowers over my shoulder.
“What?”
She made a face and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not like it was ever a priority to learn.”
Shit. Of course no one had taught her how to drive. Access to a car would have been totally out of her reach.
“I can drive.” This from Mr. Club-rat.
I looked at him skeptically.
“Look, I’m not a bad guy, okay? Yes, I probably bought her too many drinks, but I didn’t know, man. Sometimes these girls can really put it away. I can drive. You can ride shotgun. We’ll drop them off first.”
Flowers and her friend would get home safely. Then drop off Mr. Club-rat and drive home alone. It made sense.
“Fine,” I answered.
“Am I okay to get the keys out of your pocket?” he asked me.
I blinked at him. “Absolutely not.”
“Right.”
“Flowers,” I barked. “Keys. Now.”
“Are we sure-”
“Flowers! Now, before I drop What’s-her-face on her damn ass.”
“Heeeyyy,” Claire groaned, her head flopping around like her neck was broken.
Then I felt them. Anna’s fingers, dipping into the back pocket of my pants.
I didn’t think about them sliding along my ass.
I didn’t think about how little material there was between her fingers and my skin.
I’d been wearing sweats when I got her text.
I’d dropped them and pulled on jeans without even thinking about briefs. There had been no time.
What if she’d been in trouble?
Her fingers did this wiggle thing that made me grit my teeth, but then she was pulling the fob out of the pocket and I heard the beep which signaled all the doors unlocking. Mr. Club-rat opened the back door and together we maneuvered Claire, yes, I knew her name, inside.
Anna rounded the car and got in beside her. I took shotgun and Mr. Club-rat got behind the wheel.
It was all utterly humiliating.
“Careful,” I muttered, as he reversed the car and drove us into the traffic of the night.
“Trust me, I’m not going to be responsible for getting a scratch on this car.”
“Flowers?” I called out. “She going to puke in my car?”
“I hope not,” Anna said from the backseat, with absolutely no confidence.
“I’m going to need an address,” Club-rat said.
I paused then. That hadn’t occurred to me. If he was some sick, stalking bastard, handing out both Claire’s and Flower’s addresses would be a mistake. That wasn’t going to happen. Not with Flower’s address.
“Oh my God! My name is Derek. I work at Capital Bank. I have a dog named Weiner and there is a picture in my wallet if you don’t believe me. I was just out having a good time. I’m not some freak who gets girls drunk on purpose.”
“If I’m being honest, E.G.,” Flowers offered, poking her head in between the front seats. “Claire was already mostly there when we started the night.”
“See?” Derek said. “Not my fault.”
“Give him Claire’s address, Flowers.”
While she rattled that off, I considered the next steps.
Ten minutes later we arrived at Claire’s large apartment complex. Which was a series of four-story buildings as opposed to a high-rise. Thankfully, her apartment was on the second floor.
Derek and I managed to get her up the stairs, which led to a landing with a row of apartments exposed to the outside, similar to Flower’s apartment complex, although this was on the other side of town.
Flowers had gotten Claire’s keys out of her pocket and was opening the apartment door just as we reached it.
Derek and I did a quick assessment of the space and we both said simultaneously, “Couch.”
I was far less gentle dumping her weight onto the furniture, while Derek was considerate enough to take her shoes off and put a blanket over her. Anna was in the kitchen filling a glass of water and left it on the coffee table adjacent to the couch, within easy reach.
“Take her apartment keys, Flowers. We’ll need to lock this place from the outside. You can return them tomorrow.”
Anna nodded, and with that, we left the drunk and now sleeping Claire, who thankfully, had not puked in my car.
When we got back down to the parking lot, I once again let Derek take the wheel.
“Where to next?”
“Your home,” I said.
“Don’t we have to drop her off?” he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
“I’ll drop her off.”
Derek shook his head. “I don’t get it. You couldn’t drive the two of them, but you can drive her?”
“I needed help with Claire. I don’t need help with Flowers,” I lied. “What’s confusing to you?”
“Whatever, dude.”
“I am not,” I said slowly. “A dude.”
Derek drove us to his home. A small house in the sprawling Houston suburbs he shared with his parents, he admitted. When he got out of the car, the sound of a dog barking in excitement from inside the house could be heard.
The alleged Weiner.
“Oh, good. He wasn’t lying about the dog,” Flowers said, as we moved around the car. Her getting into the passenger seat, me behind the wheel.
Derek gave us a casual wave before letting himself inside.
I sat there for a second, before starting the car. I could do this. This was all in my head. I’d had plenty of therapists walk me through it. There was no reason not to overcome my anxiety with logic and reason.
The only reason I hadn’t pushed myself already was because I had the luxury of a full-time driver.
I just needed a minute. To get my shit together and will my brain to stop overthinking it. For nearly sixteen years, driving had been as easy as breathing.
“We could call an Uber,” Flowers said quietly.
“We could,” I admitted. “Or you could let me…try.”
She nodded without looking at me. “I’m a big fan of trying. Especially when you’re with someone safe.”
“You’re not going to judge me.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Considering I don’t even know how to drive, that’s an excellent assumption.”
I took another breath and looked up. “What the fuck am I doing here?”
“Well,” Flowers supplied. “Claire got drunk and I wasn’t sure what to do-”
“I know how I got here,” I cut her off. “I don’t need a recap of the night. It was more of a metaphorical question.”
“I’m not sure what that means, but I think you’re stepping in to do the hero thing again. Which, since I sent up the bat signal, I must have known you had in you. But you could have dropped me off, then Derek last.”
I could feel my lips twitch. “Maybe I was afraid he’d make a pass at me.”
She turned her whole body toward me, then eyed me up and down. “With that hair? Unlikely.”
I chuckled. Then ran my hand through my mess of hair.
“E.G., I could sit here and tell you I don’t know why I texted you, but I do know why. I texted you because I knew you would come, and maybe that’s…not right.”
She didn’t have the emotional vocabulary for what she was really trying to say. I didn’t want to look that close at whatever this was either.
For now, all I needed to do was focus on getting us home. Let that consume all my mental bandwidth.
I pressed the button to engage the engine.
We didn’t talk as I reversed out of Derek’s driveway. Nor did we talk as I drove us back toward the freeway.
It wasn’t until the silence had become unusually tense that Anna again turned to face me.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much shit am I going to get for this?”
I didn’t bother to look at her, keeping my eyes on the road in front of me. My hands at ten and two on the wheel.
“One thousand.”
“Good,” she said, slumping back into her seat. “Not as bad as I thought.”