Chapter 18
Autumn
I am so glad that Alice agreed to come out drinking with me. The last few weeks have been so bizarre. I desperately need to blow off some steam. Also – it doesn’t take much to convince Alice to go drinking. You can take the girls out of England, but you can’t take England out of the girls.
We are getting ready at my place with pre-drinks—dark rum for me, and Rosé wine for Alice. Alice is on her first – large – glass of wine. Condensation runs down the side of the glass. I prefer my drinks to burn my soul as they enter my body. I knock back my second rum of the evening and feel the burn at the back of my throat. It warms my insides from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Luckily for me, I can handle my alcohol, as I don’t plan much on slowing down this evening.
Alice is fresh from the shower. Emerging from the ensuite, the door bangs open, and the steam in the bathroom billows after her through the door and into the bedroom. Ali immediately picks up her wine and almost drops it from the mix of her wet hands and the condensation on the glass.
“Hey! Watch my carpet! I’ll make you clean it up with a straw.” I laugh at her.
“Do you honestly think I would waste good wine on your carpet? Not a chance.”
She walks around the bedroom in her towel, a glass of wine in one hand, hair straighteners in the other. I love getting ready with Alice. It’s always so much fun and feels like the warmup before a marathon. We don’t get enough credit as women for how we are able to be wrapped in a towel, doing three things at once, and not exposing our tits to the world. It is a skill that most of us master.
Alice decides to wear a shorter-than-short black t-shirt dress and black ankle boots to match, showing off her perfect legs. Neither of us cares for wearing heels, one because we are tall, and two because fuck that .
“Well, someone is on the pull tonight!” I say, fanning my face. “You look hot, Ali.”
“This is a girl’s night, and I am absolutely not on the pull. Men are fucking idiots,” she says back, brow furrowed, sandwiching her words with sips of wine.
We sit down at the mirror to do our makeup. Although I put minimal base on my face, I decide to go all out with the rest of it. A smoky eyeshadow, which intensifies the color of my eyes. A bright red lip, false lashes, and some bronzer. I love to do my makeup; it is such a therapeutic process. Finishing my eyebrow powder, I admire myself in the mirror. I look good when I try to, and I can appreciate that I don’t resemble a thumb or sewer rat this evening.
I’ve left my hair to do its own thing. I am blessed with beautifully thick, dark, wavy hair and rarely style it. It’s wild and always looks as if I’ve stepped out of a salon because it’s so bouncy. I will never not be happy with my hair. It’s the one thing I don’t have to make effort with. I feel pulled together and turn my attention to my outfit for the evening. I pull on a black low-cut floaty blouse and some chub rub shorts and follow it up with a black tube skirt, which hugs my ass and thighs perfectly. Unlike Alice’s plain black boots, my ankle boots have chains hanging off them. They’re brilliantly chunky and comfortable and make noise when I walk. Standing in the middle of the room, I click my heels together to accentuate the noise. The large, colorful tattoo on the top of my right thigh peeks out from the bottom of the skirt. I have one tattoo and no more. It extends over the top of my leg and hugs around my hip. A swallow and a trail of different coloured peonies adorn my skin. It’s a sexy part of myself that I can keep hidden if I choose to. Slinging on my trusty denim jacket, I pull my hair out from inside the collar, fluffing up my waves as I do.
Alice is halfway through her second glass of wine as I sink back my third dark rum of the evening. My cheeks are already warm, and I am practically vibrating with the excitement of going out for the night. We are dancing around my bedroom, giggling without a care in the world, and singing to our favorite streaming playlist, “Metal songs to sing along to.” The angsty teenagers in us come to life with every song. While my music tastes have diversified as I’ve have grown into an adult, this will always be my go-to ‘get ready’ music.
Jed is sprawled on the bed, looking at us as though we each have two heads. He should be used to this by now.
“Oh my god, Autumn – we haven’t done this in so long. I didn’t realise how much I needed it,” Alice says, thoroughly out of breath from swinging her impeccably straight hair around for the last twenty minutes. “Shall we stay here instead? I am sure we’ll have as much fun in your bedroom as we will at a bar!” She pleads at me in a childish voice and pokes her bottom lip out.
“Absolutely not, Ali. I need to go out and listen to louder-than-necessary music. My head is reeling, and I need to let my hair down.” As much as Sawyer pisses me off, my body pricks with excitement at the thought of seeing him wherever I go, and part of me hopes that he shows up tonight.
We decide to get a cab to the next town over – Saltern Lake. There is a great rock bar there, and it is the perfect setting for being absolutely wasted without getting into mischief.
I drop Jed to my neighbours for the evening because I don’t like leaving him alone for too long. My sweet old neighbors dote on Jed, caring for him as though they were his real grandparents. I know I don’t have to worry about him if I am stumbling in through the door at 3 a.m.
“Goodbye, Jeddy Bear. You be good for Jackie and Dale.” I ruffle his head and thank my neighbors with a bottle of red wine and some cheese and crackers.
“Oh, Autumn, you didn’t need to do that, honey. But we’re glad you did.” A wicked laugh rolls out of Jackie. “It’s very sweet of you, but we always welcome little Jed. He is a little angel for us, and it’s lovely to have to company.”
I blow Jackie a kiss, and she gives me a wave as the cab arrives.
We arrive at the bar a little while later - Unoriginal for sure, but this place is called The Bar at 1408. As you can probably guess, it is named after what it is and its building number. I love it here. It’s the type of place where your feet stick to the floor and always makes me hot and sweaty. It is usually crowded, and the people that frequent it are so friendly. There is rarely trouble. I feel safe and know that I can have fun without being bothered by anyone. The large room has restrooms off to each side. TVs on the wall usually play old cult films, which seems a little out of place for a bar, but it works here.
The vibe around here is perfect. Music thumps through the speakers so loud that you can feel it in your chest. There is a huge dancefloor and bench-style tables set around the outside. The walls are red and peppered with old band posters. The lights are low, and classic strobes, lasers, and smoke machines add to the mood.
As Alice and I go to order drinks, we walk up to the circular bar right in the middle of the room. We wait for a few minutes to get to the front; I am eyeballing the rum selection, trying to decide which one I want to start with. Suddenly, I feel as if I am being watched. It’s the sort of feeling you get where you can imagine eyes drilling into the back of your skull, but when I turn around, I see nobody. Instinct kicks in, and I become hyper-alert. Pulling my clutch closer to me, my knuckles white from clenching it so hard.
“Ughh, I have an odd feeling, Ali. Like I’m being watched. It’s creeping me out.” I shudder as I scan the bar, trying to locate the source of my unease.
“Of course you’re being watched. You’ve seen yourself, right? You are smoking hot. Anyway, it is probably Sawyer. He seems to pop up everywhere,” she replies, and I roll my eyes at her.
We order our drinks: dark rum over ice for me and a bizarre sounding hipster beer for Alice. Much to her dismay, the wine they serve here isn’t the kind you’d want to drink. Unless, of course, you’re happy paying thirty dollars for a five-dollar bottle of wine.
Of course, they sell wine, but it barely qualifies. I think paint stripper is more accurate.
We make our way past hot bodies to one of the emptier tables. There is a group of a few men at one end, and we take up residence at the other end. Polite smiles are exchanged, but there is no point in trying to have a conversation because it’s so loud. You don’t come here to talk, but rather to let go and have a great time. Alice’s favourite song blasts through the speaker, and a high-pitched squeal escapes her mouth.
“Come and dance with me, Autumn!” She grabs my arm and pulls me from the seat, leading me to the dance floor.
We forget the world when we are dancing through the smoke and lights, surrounded by other hot, sweaty bodies.
After an hour or so, we are a few drinks deep, and my hair is stuck to the back of my neck. I didn’t take my jacket off when I arrived, and I am massively regretting that decision now. Everything is sticking to me, so I decide to ditch my jacket at the closest table with a bunch of people I recognize. They are regulars here and genuinely lovely people, so I know it will be safe. Everyone is having an amazing time, and most people are in their own little worlds, letting go of their weekly worries.
I am out of breath, and my chest rises and falls like I have run a marathon. I make a mental note to do more cardio. I take some time away from dancing, as the buzz from the alcohol is starting to make me feel a lot dizzier than I usually would be.
I make my way back to the bar, order another round of drinks, and someone slams into my back, causing me to fall into the bar and slam my ribs against it.
Fuck that hurt.
I wince and rub the sore part.
I turn around to come face to face with a man I don’t recognize. He is so far into my personal space that I can’t move at all. Immediately, I feel like a deer in headlights. He is tall, maybe six-foot-one, and he’s slender, with blonde hair. I don’t know what it is about him, but he makes me feel uneasy.
“Oh. Sorry, babe. I thought you were someone else,” he says with a sinister smile, but he doesn’t fucking move .
As we are taught to ‘be nice’ when we are women, I chime back with a smile, as nicely as possible, “Oh, that’s okay! Please be more careful next time.”
I turn back to the bar, and he immediately pins me to the bar with one hand on either side of me. I have never felt more claustrophobic than I have in the last five seconds. Without a chance for me to react to him crowding my space, he presses himself into my back. I’m now unable to move as he removes a hand from the bar and runs it up my leg, grabbing my ass under my skirt. I flinch, and he squeezes my inner thigh, fingers dangerously close to my pussy.
I see red. As I turn to face the scrawny man, I grab his shoulders while simultaneously kneeing him as hard as I can in the balls. I’m so shaken, but fury rules my emotions more.
The guy cups his groin, crying like a baby, while I start shouting at him.
“Don’t touch me, you utter fucking creep. I hope someone snaps your fingers off!” I don’t know what he expected me to do, but it certainly wasn’t to defend myself. Pulling himself up off the ground, he drags himself away from the bar with his tail between his legs, like a cat that lost a fight.
Putting my head into my hands, I steady myself on the bar. I am shaking from the adrenaline, and the rum. I see a scuffle at the door, and after what feels like forever, the barman puts my drinks in front of me and says,
“Hey, love. Are you okay? I saw what happened with that guy. Security has thrown him out.” I am snapped back to the present, and I lie.
“Everything is fine, sorry. I was not expecting that. I have never had a problem here before.” I slam back the rum on the spot and ask for another while Alice’s beer is perched next to me on the bar.
“We’ve never seen him before,” he says in return. “And we won’t be seeing him again either!” Before the guy can bring me another rum, I’ve downed the beer, too. He hands me more drinks, and I thank him. I am about to back away from the bar when I see a familiar face.
Sawyer’s eyes are burning into me from the other side of the bar.
My god, he is actually here. He must have seen what happened then and didn’t step in to help me? Did he even see? Why am I expecting him to step in for me? I don’t know him; I shouldn’t expect anything from him. He probably enjoyed the torment on my face, especially since I didn’t call him.
He looks so angry. Before I know it, tears are spilling over my eyes. The barman moves to Sawyer’s side of the bar. They exchange some words, and Sawyer’s entire demeanour changes. Before he has the chance to react, I turn my back to the bar and disappear into the crowd to find Alice.
Alice knows immediately that something is wrong.
“Ali, I knew I was being watched. This absolute creep just pinned me to the bar and grabbed my ass under my skirt,” I force out, with a tear running down my cheek. Make no mistake, I am not upset. I am furious . I cry when I am angry. I always have.
“Where is he? I’ll fucking kill him!” Alice rages, jumping to my defence. There is practically steam coming out of her ears. She wants to go find this guy, but security threw him out long ago. I also don’t want my best friend to start a brawl, which she would do.
“Security threw him out, Ali. Not before I kicked him in the balls, though.” I force a small smile.
“I don’t know what is worse, though. That happening, or Sawyer seeing it all happen from the other side of the bar and not helping me.” I grimace and wrinkle my forehead.
“I’ll fucking kill him, too! Follow you everywhere, then won’t even help when you’re being touched up? Asshole!” Alice rants at me.
I find myself scanning the room for Sawyer, but I can’t see him anywhere, and I don’t know why I want to see him again. I am equally as angry with him and his reaction to me as I am with the creep who laid his hands on me, even though I don’t have the right to be at all. He doesn’t owe me anything.
“Did you want us to call you a cab, sweetie? Or the cops?” one of the girls behind the bar asks.
“No, it’s okay. I’m not leaving on account of that guy,” I reply.
Alice doesn’t leave my side for the rest of the night. The encounter sours our night out, and I am left wondering whether this guy is going to be outside waiting for someone else. After three or four more drinks, we are ready to call it a night at two am. It’s a weekend, so it is still buzzing on the street outside when we step into the cool air. As soon as the breeze catches my skin, my head starts spinning. I am more drunk than I thought. We’ve been out for hours; my clothes are sticking to me. The makeup has run down my face where I was crying, and I look infinitely worse than I did before we left the house.
We are waiting outside The Bar @ 1408 for a cab to show up. Alice stumbles around on her feet. It’s like watching a baby giraffe, unstable on its very long legs, trying to take its first steps.
Putting my phone into my clutch, I grumble about the inconvenience of not being able to get a cab, even from one of the apps. It must be a busy night, and I dread that we might have a while longer before we can get home. Trying to pass the time, Alice and I sit on the floor, and she starts dozing on my shoulder. I should probably feel vulnerable now after what happened to me this evening, but the alcohol has relaxed me, and there are enough people still around that I feel safe.
My mind is occupied with getting us home while I check apps to find available rides.
After waiting for about thirty minutes, my eyes scanning up and down the street, a car comes around the corner. It promptly parks up across the street, and an angry-looking Sawyer gets out.
“MOVE OUT OF MY WAY!” I hear him shouting at people in the street. His eyes lock with mine, and he rushes up to me, crouching in front of me. Sawyer presses his forehead to mine and cups my face in his palms.
“Who fucking did that to you? Who touched you?”
“I-I don’t know.” I sniffle again. Apparently, crying is my thing now.
Brushing my cheek with his thumb, he says, “I tried to find you, but you disappeared. I’ve been driving around out here trying to find you. I thought you’d left. Autumn, are you okay? Did he hurt you?!”
“No, I-I’m okay, I swear. I kicked him in the balls. Fucker.” Sawyer still has my face in his hands.
“I’m proud of you, Sugar. I swear to God, if I find him, I will fucking kill him.” Rage laces his breath.
“Funnily enough, Alice said the same. Sawyer, It’s fine. All I want is to go home. Wait. Why are you here? Why were you here?” Confusion sets in over the reason he was in that bar tonight. Even though I know the answer is likely to be ‘because I followed you.’ Sawyer refuses to acknowledge my question.
“What the fuck are you two doing out here on the ground?” He diverts the questioning, looking at Alice slumped over my shoulder.
“We couldn’t get a ride, and we decided to wait for a cab.”
“But it’s not safe. It’s the middle of the night, and you were assaulted this evening. Don’t you ever do that again. Why didn’t you call me? I’d have come to get you.”
Don’t you ever do that again? What is it with these pig-headed men? Why’s he now scolding me as if I were a child? Pissed off, I shake his hands free from me.
“Don’t you dare speak to me that way. You don’t own me. You can’t tell me what to do. Who do you think you are?”
“Autumn, shut that pretty mouth of yours, get your ass up, and get in my car.”
I open my mouth to retaliate but slam it shut again as he glowers at me. I am too tired to argue the point with him.
“Um.” I roll my eyes. “No can do. Alice is asleep, and I can’t carry her,” I say sarcastically and shrug, hoping he would leave us alone. Mentally, I’m praying that he won’t because I realize that without his help, we will probably be stuck here if I don’t accept a ride home. It’s not as though he doesn’t know where I live.
Without even a word, Sawyer stands up, and fireman lifts Alice over his shoulder before extending his hand for mine.
“You are infuriating me, Autumn. Take my hand and get up. Right now.”
I do as he says like my body doesn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’. His hand is warm and rough, and his skin touching mine sends a wave of heat up my arm. He keeps hold of my hand for the few steps it takes to reach the car.
“I’m going to let you go now so I can get your friend in the car. Don’t move.” My mind is furious at him commanding me, but my body obeys.
Sawyer is so gentle with Alice; he gets her to stand for long enough that he can manoeuvre her into the back seat of his car. It’s not easy lifting anyone that is drunk, let alone someone who is five foot eleven and all legs.
“Hey, Alice. It’s Sawyer. I am putting you in my car, okay? I’m going to take you home.”
Alice makes a barely audible noise, but she sounds worried.
“It’s okay, Ali. I’m coming, too. He is dropping us home.” I reassure her and reach into the car to squeeze her thigh. She relaxes almost instantly, resting her head on the back seat of Sawyer’s car. I have never seen Alice this drunk. It is so unusual for her, and I thank God that I am with her. This would have been a very different story if she had been alone.
Once Alice is settled, Sawyer takes me by the elbow, opens the passenger door, and ushers me forward. Not expecting the quick gesture, I stumble and face plant into the middle of his huge, hard chest. He doesn’t move, and neither do I, partially from embarrassment and partially because I’ve wanted to throw myself at this man for weeks. I inhale a deep breath and sigh. I feel so relaxed around him, and I don’t know why. Sawyer should scare me, but he doesn’t. A warm hand caresses my back, and he runs his hand up and down the length of my spine.
“Umm, Autumn. Are you okay down there?” he chuckles. After a few seconds of drowning in his masculinity, I brace my hands on his chest and push back enough so that I can look up into his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I lost my balance.” I bite my bottom lip and start to giggle. Why am I giggling like a damn teenager?
“Apparently, you lost my number too, but that’s okay, Sugar.” He tilts his head at me and places one large hand on my shoulder, squeezing. He then runs his other hand up the middle of my back again.
I shiver because the touch of his warm skin reminds me that I am cold. Sitting on the ground at two a.m. when you have a short skirt on and nothing on your legs will do that to a girl. After a few seconds, Sawyer grabs me by both shoulders and peers down at me with a puzzled look on his face. “Let’s get you home.”
I lean down into the car and bash my head on the way in. “Ouch! Jeez. That hurt,” I grumble while rubbing my forehead. I get myself seated, and before I can buckle myself in, Sawyer leans over and does it for me. He completely envelops me as his massive arm brushes across my tits when he grabs the seatbelt. I hear him mumble under his breath.
“You should be more careful, Autumn.” He rubs a thumb over my forehead, his mouth about three inches from mine. Then he slams the door.
I don’t even look at him when he gets into the driver’s seat. I’m too busy squeezing my thighs together, where heat is now flooding my core. I may be cold, but the heat just got turned up to eleven.
“I didn’t lose your number. I deleted it.” I cut through the silence, hoping to distract myself from wanting to kiss him. From the corner of my eye, I see Sawyer glare at me and feel satisfied that I’m getting under his skin.
The rest of the car ride to Alice’s place is uncomfortable. I place my hands in my lap, twisting my fingers in the hem of my top, and regard them as they nervously work the fabric, without so much as even tilting my head in Sawyer’s direction.
Feelings of sobriety have started to creep back in. I am not sober, make no mistake, but I am not as drunk as I was an hour ago. When we reach Alice’s house, I get out of the car to help her into the house.
“I can get home from here, Sawyer. Thank you for getting us home. Truly.” I give him a curt nod and attempt not to look at him. Every cell in my body has a magnetic pull to this man, and I worry that if I look at him for too long, I will throw myself at him.
“If you think I am leaving you alone somewhere in the middle of the night with a virtually unconscious woman, you are sadly mistaken. You may not know me well at all, but one thing you should know is that I will always make sure that women are safe.” He slides out of the driver’s seat and escorts us on the walk back to Alice’s door. He keeps a distance behind us as Alice is now conscious enough to walk and talk, even though she still has jelly legs.
I am scared to be alone with him, so I wanted him to leave me here. Not because he genuinely scares me but because I don’t think I can trust myself around him .
Although Alice is still pretty out of it, she is miraculously awake enough to spark up a conversation - much to my horror.
“Hey, it’s Mr. Hatefuck, himself. Why’re you here? Don’t you take the hint when people don’t call you?” She laughs.
“Mr. Hatefuck? What?” Sawyer asks, a confused look on his face. I elbow Alice in the side.
“Nice one, you dick,” I whisper.
“Yep!” She pops the P. “Autumn had lots and lots of sex dreams about you after you tried to kill her.” She hiccups through her words like a drunk teenager.
“I told her that a bit of hate fucking never hurt anybody.” Alice unsuccessfully tries to hump the air. Oh man, am I going to make her pay for this tomorrow.
“You might as well get it out of your systems. You can cut through the tension between you with a knife.” She makes slashing movements through the air to hammer home her point.
“It’s pathetic really. You’re two consenting adults. Get yourself a one-way ride to pound town,” she slurs.
“Hmmm, she has dreams about me, does she? That’s some good advice, Alice!” He says with a laugh.
I stay silent now. My best friend is an asshole, but honestly, it might as well be out there in the universe, and there is no point in telling him that she’s lying, and in my drunk state, I am not embarrassed. I would be usually, but it’s all coming out now, and the alcohol gives me the courage I so sorely lack otherwise. Drunk people always tell the truth. We all know that. I glanced his way, and his dark eyes bore into my soul. My entire body goes hot.
After getting Alice into her bedroom, I turn to Sawyer, who is halfway into her bedroom.
“Can you leave? I need to get her undressed, and I don’t want you staring at her. I don’t need a babysitter.” I roll my eyes in frustration.
“Sure, I can, but trust me when I say that she is not the one I would be staring at.” He closes the door.
I get Alice undressed and haul her into bed. I remind her that I am going to kick her ass when she’s sober enough to hold her own. She hiccups and kisses me, leaving her lip gloss print on my cheek. How there is still lip-gloss on her face when she was in such a state, I will never know. I open the bedroom door, and Sawyer is holding out a packet of painkillers and glass of water.
“You might want to leave that next to the bed. I have a feeling she might need that in the morning.”
“Oh, that’s.. nice of you. Thanks.” I am taken aback, but I hold my hand out to take the water from him and glide my fingers over the back of his massive hand. “You’re probably right about that.”
I set the water and tablets next to Alice, kiss her on the forehead and leave the room. I am seeing another new side to Sawyer. He is being, dare I say it, sweet. I put my back against the wall in the hallway and let out a deep breath. Wrestling Alice when she is drunk takes it out for you. It’s like fighting an angry bear.
Sawyer turns to face me, and with the width of Alice’s hallway, he is chest-to-chest with me.
“Now it’s your turn to get tucked up into bed,” he says, and I laugh nervously.
He kept an annoyingly respectful distance from me on the way back to the car and again took me by the elbow to help me into the car. When I dipped down to climb into the seat, he put his hand on the door frame, in the exact place that I bashed my head when I got into his car an hour ago.
“How chivalrous of you,” I say sarcastically, but my core clenches from the small gesture.
“M’lady,” he replies, tipping his make-believe hat to me before closing the door and getting back into the driver’s seat. As soon as Sawyer is in the car, he turns to face me, and I shift in my seat, so I am looking directly into his illegally hot face.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, shaking his head.
“I told you. I deleted your number.”
“Why?” he asks, and he sounds angry again. This man is giving me whiplash.
“Because you’re a dick. Please, Sawyer, I don’t want to talk about this right now. Anyway, this is crazy. You told me you are following me. Why would I call you?”
He grunts disapprovingly.
“Fuck, Autumn. I am sick to death of pretending not to care about you and you pretending not to care about me,” he says, exasperated, and he turns to face me, running his hand over his face.
“Please, Sawyer, can you take me home? I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I am drunk, tired, angry, and upset.”
The atmosphere is suddenly thick and tense. He doesn’t make a sound at all for the short drive between Alice’s place and mine.