Chapter 20 Bailey #2
As he got out of the car, I saw him start to turn back to say something to me, but I reached across the seat and yanked the door closed before he could, then reversed as quickly as possible, kicking up dust in his face.
Was it a tad evil of me?
Quite possibly.
Maybe I was getting my period or something.
I raised my shot glass, clanking it against Cheyenne’s before dropping it against the smooth bar top of The Beaver and Boot.
The burn of alcohol had long since passed, leaving me with only a pleasant tipsy feeling that I was really beginning to like.
“What an ass!” Cheyenne shouted, slamming her own shot glass down. “He actually said that to you?”
I nodded, grabbing a lime wedge and sucking the juice from it. I was well on my way to getting wasted, and I wasn’t sure I cared at this point.
“Why do guys do that? I’m upset about something, so I must have my period! Do they not realize that they’re the problem?”
“Of course not,” she snorted, signaling to Lizzy that we needed refills. “If a woman is grouchy, there can only be one way to explain it.”
“But if a man is grouchy, he must have a good excuse.”
Lizzy grinned as she strolled over, bottle in hand. “You know, men get their periods, too.”
“Yeah, but they don’t have the accompanying blood and cramps. It’s not fair. Why do women get stuck with all the bad stuff? Periods, childbirth, menopause—” I ranted.
“Boobs!” Cheyenne added.
“Exactly! They just have their dicks swinging around. They don’t have to keep their balls balanced in cups that are too small with not enough support. What the hell was God thinking when he designed the male form?”
Lizzy poured us each a shot, then joined in with one of her own.
“He was thinking that men couldn’t handle pushing a baby out of a tiny hole or dealing with hot flashes.
And don’t get me started on the boob thing.
With as much as they play with their balls, you would think they wouldn’t have such a complex about them. ”
I sighed, knowing it was unfair to talk about this with Liam’s sister. “I’m a shit friend.”
“No, you’re not,” she grinned. “Besides, what happens at the bar, stays at the bar.”
“Unless it’s a baby. That’ll follow you home,” Cheyenne said in way of a toast.
“Well, there will be no babies over here,” I grumbled. “Not after the way he looked at me today. You’d think I was the enemy instead of his girlfriend.”
Then I laughed when I realized we hadn’t even made it a week.
“Maybe that’s all we were meant to have. Less than a week of fun to show that it would never work between us. That I was doomed to be hopelessly in love with a man who could never truly love me back.”
“Because he has no boobs,” Cheyenne agreed. “If you can’t make it with Liam, how the hell are the rest of us supposed to find someone?”
“God, that’s a depressing thought,” Lizzy sighed.
Gripping Lizzy’s hand in mine, I hoped I wasn’t overstepping the line regarding her brother.
“He really is a good man.”
“Oh, hell no,” she yelled, yanking her hand out from under mine. “Don’t pull that shit with me. He’s being an ass. After all you’ve done for him—”
“Yeah, after you stabbed him,” Cheyenne laughed.
“It was an accident! He freaked me out, and it was a perfectly natural reaction to throw something at an intruder.”
“See, I was thinking of getting a security system,” Lizzy chuckled, “but maybe I should just hire you instead.”
“Hey, if you had seen him in the apartment after you’d just cleared all the rooms like you were in Baghdad, searching for terrorists, you would have done the same exact thing!”
“She’s right,” Cheyenne agreed. “Especially if I was wearing my boots.”
She hoisted her leg in the air, showing off her undergarments to everyone in the bar as she did so.
“These puppies have gotten me so many dates. There’s no way I would risk their life for anyone. Even if he was the love of my life.”
“Hey! Can I get some beer down here?” someone at the end of the bar shouted.
“I’ll be right there,” Lizzy said as nicely as possible.
“We’ve been waiting for like five minutes!”
Shoving back my barstool, I nearly fell to the ground when everything shifted around me. The dull buzzing had turned into a roar at some point between the last shot and this one.
But that would not stop me from defending my friend.
“Hey, she just said she was coming. There’s no need to be rude.”
I spun around, throwing my arms wide.
“What is it with everyone being so damn rude lately? You can’t just say excuse me or politely ask someone to move, or say pardon me?”
“I think those are all the same thing,” Cheyenne laughed.
“Fuck you very much,” I chuckled, barely making it back to my seat.
But about the time I got there, the bitch from the other end of the bar was on my ass.
“Hey, bitch!”
I stumbled forward when something hard hit my back. I tried to catch myself on something, but only found air, and ended up face-first on the bar floor. I barely saw the red from Cheyenne’s boots hit the floor before the telltale sound of skin hitting skin filled the bar, followed by several gasps.
Rolling over, I held my nose, hoping it wasn’t broken. The last thing I needed was two black eyes and a crooked nose.
As I blinked back the tears filling my eyes, I heard a screech, followed by the sound of something ripping. Cheyenne had the woman by the back of the hair as the woman tore at her dress.
Her favorite dress.
I leapt to my feet and charged with all the adrenaline coursing through my body. But before I could attack the woman, I was swept off my feet and carried across the bar while still swinging my arms.
“Hey! Put me down!”
“Not yet, darlin’. Christ, I can see why he needs help with you.”
I didn’t want to dissect what he meant, not when Cheyenne was in the middle of a bar fight on my behalf.
“If you do not put me down right now—”
“Alright, alright,” the man chuckled, setting me on my feet.
His eyes locked on mine and held until I stared back at him with so much anger that my hands shook.
“Now, I can see you want to defend your friend, but how about you stay over here and let me handle things?”
He turned on his heel and marched back over to the girl fight. In a matter of seconds, he had Cheyenne and the other woman separated with only his raised hands.
“Now, I’m sure everyone in the bar is enjoying this little fight, but perhaps I could buy you both a drink, and you can call a truce.”
“Over my dead body,” the woman spat.
“That can be arranged!” Cheyenne shouted, charging past the man’s outstretched hand. She flung herself at the woman, taking her down to the floor.
That was it for me. I hauled ass across the bar, diving into the fight. It was really hard to tell what was going on with all the limbs and hair flying around, so I grabbed and held on with all my might.
The harder they screamed, the harder I pulled, until the woman hopped to her feet, laughing as I yanked on Cheyenne’s hair.
“Bailes!” Cheyenne shouted, finally getting my attention.
“Oops,” I laughed, instantly releasing her.
“Stupid bitch,” the woman laughed. “Come at me again and I’ll—”
I didn’t hear a word she said after that. I was on my feet and swinging hard. The only thing I felt was the rush of relief when she went down hard, and the resounding thump in my hand as pain coursed through my knuckles.
“Damn, Bailes,” Cheyenne breathed hard beside me. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
I shrugged, shaking out my hand. “Me neither.”
“Do you think she’s going to wake up anytime soon?”
“Why?”
“Because the sheriff just walked through the door.”