Chapter 22 Vee
Vee
Hank isn’t at his normal spot at the front entrance.
He isn’t inside the bar. In fact, he isn’t here at all.
For a brief moment, I feel relief. I don’t have to see him.
I don't have to face the finality of our relationship. His belongings are still mine for just a little while longer. I can breathe and pretend I don’t have to see him.
The box sitting solemnly on my back seat is still full of the items he left at my apartment.
As long as they’re with me, it’s not officially over.
I can keep pretending this is just a pause, a break, a rough patch.
Not an ending. That he’s going to wake up and realize that we can have what our friends have.
A poly relationship where everyone is happy.
But I know it’s just a dream. He’s been very clear on the fact that he can’t and won’t share. Either I choose him alone, or we’re nothing. Feelings be damned.
I clock in and slide behind the bar. Jennalyn is already there, surprisingly.
She’s laughing a little too loud, leaning against the counter, tits on display, like she owns the place.
Over the next hour I watch as she picks and chooses who she helps, batting her lashes at the biggest tippers and hottest men, while the rest of the bar waves at her in an attempt to get her attention.
Shocker, she looks, but chooses not to help them.
I grit my teeth and grab a rag, wiping down the counter where I’m standing. I’ve been purposely keeping to one end of the bar in hopes she’d work just a little harder. She doesn’t. Once again I’m reminded that I need to talk to Bash and Javier about her.
Me and her on the same shift just isn’t working.
She disappears when it’s busy and hogs the easy customers when it’s not.
If they’re not good looking then she acts as if she doesn’t see them.
I hate to sound bitter or territorial over the bar that has been mine for years.
Nor do I want to sound like a bitch who can’t share her space.
Hell, I did it with Ash, but this girl isn’t her.
Where Ash worked her ass off, this one just wants to show hers to the highest bidder.
Either it’s her or me, but one of us has to go.
Something’s got to give.
“Hey,” a deep masculine voice calls over the music. One that I’ve become familiar with.
I glance to my left and see my new friend, sitting at the end of the bar, in what I’ve now dubbed his spot.
“You stalking me now?” I ask as I make my way over to him, placing a bottle of Budweiser in front of him.
“Please. If I were stalking you, I’d be better at it than this. For damn sure I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to ya.” He gives me a grin, lifting his drink to his mouth and taking a long swallow.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I nod at Jade as she walks by, heading to the stage to dance.
“You do that, babe.” He gives me a wink, then tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he really looks at me. “You look sad.”
“And here I thought you were my new best friend, and then you go and say something like that.”
“All I said was the truth.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I decide to answer. “It’s a long story.”
He shifts on the stool, taking another swallow of his beer. “Good thing I’ve got all night. Or at least until the bar closes and you kick me out of here on my ass.”
I roll my eyes as a smile spreads across my face. “You’re annoying.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“I’m working.”
“I know. I’m your customer. And I must say you are giving some exceptional customer service for someone who’s sad.”
“I think you need glasses.” I’m saved from having to come up with reasons not to answer him when an older man about midway down the bar raises his hand trying to flag down Jennalyn. Of course she’s ignoring him.
The crowd grows as the night goes on; the strobing lights flashing across the bodies sitting at tables.
All with money in their hands, ready to slip to the dancers and waitresses.
I roll my eyes as Jennalyn laughs again, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she flirts with some guy in a backwards cap.
It’s taking everything in me not to charge toward her and beat the ever-loving fuck out of her.
“Hey babe, can I get two shots of tequila, two Coronas, and your number?”
I sigh as I glance up at the man in front of me. He’s tall, slender with dark hair, and smiling at me like his words just made my night.
“Sure.” I pour the shots, and I’m reaching for the bottles of beer when I see him.
It’s just a glimpse at first. But then I see him cut through the crowd as he moves toward the stairs.
I can’t see his face. But I know it’s him.
Every fiber in my being knows it’s him. My chest tightens so fast it steals the air from my lungs.
I place the beers down in front of the man. “And the number?” he asks. But I don’t answer, I’m already making my way down the bar.
“I need a second,” I mutter to Jennalyn as I pass her.
Jennalyn looks up, a scowl on her face. “Where are you going? We’re slammed.”
“Bathroom.”
“Can’t it wait?” she asks as she waves her hand, gesturing toward the crowd.
I don’t even argue. I just slip out from behind the bar and head straight for the exit. Cold air slaps me in the face as I push open the door and step outside. My heart’s racing like I just finished running a marathon.
I go straight to my car, popping the trunk, exposing the crate with Hank’s belongings.
I take hold of the handles and lift it out before I can think about it.
Already knowing that if I hesitate any longer, I won’t give the items back.
I prop the crate on my hip as I use my free hand to shut the trunk.
My steps are slow as I walk across the parking lot. I’m hoping he’s at his normal spot working the door when I get back.
He’s not. Carlos is standing at the counter, checking IDs. For a second I debate giving the crate to him and having him give it to Hank for me. It’s the coward's way out, but right now it actually sounds really good. It saves us both an awkward confrontation.
“Hey Carlos, can you give this to Hank for me?”
His eyebrow raises as he clears his throat. “I can. But he’s right behind you.”
I glance over my shoulder to see Hank standing there. Where did he come from? How did I not hear the door open?“I got the counter, Carlos. You can head back inside.” Hank says, his voice cold, and with no acknowledgement of me standing there.
Time slows as he moves behind the counter and checks in the few guys standing there. It’s then I really get a good look at him.
His lip is split with bits of dried blood in the corner of his mouth. One eye is a swollen, black and blue mess. What the fuck happened?
I wait for him to finish with the guys as I set the crate on the edge of the counter and step around to where he is. Once he’s done, my hands instinctively reach out, cradling his face as my thumbs hover over his skin, too afraid to touch him.
“What happened?” My voice is more panicked than I want it to be.
For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. Then his expression hardens. “None of your business.”
The words hit me as if I’d been shot. He reaches up and grips my wrists—not rough, but firm—and pulls my hands away from his face. His eyes drop to the crate I placed on the counter.
“What’s that?” he asks bitterly.
“It’s your fucking shit,” I snap before I can stop myself. He’s already pissed me off with how he answered me when I was concerned about how he looked.
His jaw tightens. And I turn and leave before I break down in tears in front of him.
I rush back inside, pushing through the crowd, moving back behind the safety of the bar. I grab a towel, pretending to wipe something that doesn’t need wiping.
The world keeps moving around me, and I feel Abraham’s eyes on me, but I don’t look at him. I don’t want him asking me again what’s wrong. Because if he does, I don’t think I can lie and say nothing without tears bursting forth.
All I can focus on right now is how Hank looked at me, how he dismissed me, and the knowledge that our relationship is truly over. That the man I love doesn’t feel the same for me.