CHAPTER 2
Elijah
My right-hand whips out, catching Paul Walker in the jugular with the outer edge of my palm.
His gurgling gasp is barely audible over the loud thud of my hand against his throat.
He immediately releases Macy’s wrist in favor of grabbing said throat with both hands.
His eyes are wide and panicked. He still can’t get enough air.
He takes two stilted steps back while choking and spluttering.
The two male bartenders are already at Macy’s side.
They’re wearing identical, devious, satisfied grins.
Their eyes are pinned on the blond dick weasel clutching his throat.
They must have noticed when this guy grabbed her and attempted to come to her aid.
Casually, I stand and grab pretty boy Macy toucher by the nape of the neck.
The whole situation is under control in a matter of seconds.
No one in the bar seems to have taken notice of the man struggling for breath beneath my unyielding grip.
They continue to dance and turn up their glasses without paying us much attention.
I turn back to Macy with a quick, “Save my seat”, before roughly escorting the red-faced, wheezing dirtbag through the gyrating throng of people to the front door.
He makes no attempt to resist me, instead just putting one shaky foot in front of the other.
No one looks at this guy with sympathy. No one even looks at this guy.
Drunk folks are not observant folks, and no one does drunk quite like us Texans.
The bouncer appears to recognize said pretty boy. As we get closer to him, his glare becomes murderous. This clearly isn’t his first time seeing Paul Walker.
“You got this?” I ask him as he comes toward us.
“I’ve got this.” He assures me in a tone that almost makes me feel sorry for the poor bastard until I remember the subtle fear I saw in Macy’s eyes. I leave the dick-whittler bent over, still gasping, in the capable hands of the much larger bouncer and turn back to the bar.
There she is. I see her as I turn around.
She’s standing on my barstool, watching me.
She saved my seat. The rest of the bar fades out.
I can’t see anyone but her. The music changes.
All I can hear in my head is Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers.
The smile that overtakes my face is completely out of my control.
Her face is captivatingly curious until she sees my grin and then she breaks out into a heart stopping megawatt smile.
I still hear it. The music. I’ve hungered, hungered for your touch. Actual sparkles leak out from the corners of her mouth. The song in my head starts to wrap up with my thoughts in lyrical form. God speed your love to meeeeee.
Fuck. A. Duck. This wasn’t a fair fight. I never stood a chance.
As I get closer to my seat, she puts one foot behind her, stepping backward up onto the bar in one fluid, practiced motion.
She never takes her eyes off me. Her smile never wavers.
Once she has both heeled feet on the bar, she turns and jumps down.
Sails down. Like a swan. The male bartender whom I hadn’t noticed, is still standing here until now, slides my credit card back to me across the bar. I look up at him, confused.
“You just made my night, man. His too.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder to the other male bartender, who swiftly goes down on one knee as if to bow before a king. “Your money is no good here tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t-”
He holds a hand up to stop me. “Please. Let us. We hate that fucking guy. Something tells me you would too if” He pauses, seeming to rethink his next words. “Well, you just strike me as the kind of guy that wouldn’t take too kindly to guys like Chase.”
I look at him intently, trying to read into what he isn’t saying.
Chase was obviously in some kind of relationship with Macy, and he messed up. He wants forgiveness, and she isn’t willing to give it. He’s clearly getting more desperate since he showed up here at her work to change her mind.
I hold up my credit card. “Thanks, man. You’re probably right about that. I’m Elijah.” My hand is now hovering over the bar, waiting for him to take it.
The guy’s smile widens before he takes my offered hand. Fucking pretty boys. It’s obviously Macy’s type if Chase is any indicator, and there’s no way this guy isn’t attracted to her. Hopefully, she doesn’t mix business with pleasure. Well, not on that side of the bar anyway.
I look back at Macy, and she’s still looking at me. She slides a fresh drink to me. “You didn’t have to do that.” She says this while maintaining steady eye contact with me.
“I did, actually. You haven’t met my momma yet, but there was really no way around it.”
Macy quirks a beautiful brow at me and chuckles. “Yet?”
She didn’t miss my subtle ‘I’m taking you home to meet my mother innuendo’. “Yeah, yet. It’s not that I’m not ready. I just want to give you more time to get to know me before I throw you into the hen house.”
The next thing that happens seals my fate.
We were unevenly matched to begin with, but then she throws this grenade into the mix.
Macy tosses her head back and laughs. Her laughter is a mixture of the most beautiful violin and waves crashing on the shore.
That’s what I hear, anyway. I have no idea, and don’t really give a shit what anyone else hears.
I wonder how I can make her laughter my ringtone, and my alarm notification, and my doorbell, and....shit get it together man.
After not nearly enough time has passed, she stops laughing and wipes the tears from her eyes. I made her laugh so hard that she cried. That’s got to be a point for me.
“Well, Mr. Washington, I’m glad that you came in. You’ve certainly improved my night.”
Her words send an electric charge to my heart. I improved her night. She’s glad that I’m here.
“Happy to help, but can we stick with Elijah?”
“Anything you say, Elijah.” She winks. Oh fuck. Then, walks off before I have enough time to recover from the wink.
I sit quietly for the next several minutes but continue to keep my eyes on Macy, and every few minutes, she has her eyes on me, too. I’m definitely getting somewhere. I’m going to make my move when she brings me another drink. I just have to figure out what the move is.
When she comes back over, I still haven’t made up my mind, but I’m not willing to let another opportunity pass.
It’s getting late, and the club has thinned out substantially.
“I’d like to take you to dinner the next night you’re free.
” I’m proud of how normal my voice sounds because the drunken June bugs with fully charged tasers flittering around in my stomach threatened to make me do some dumb shit.
She looks at me and gives me that rainbow grin. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m not currently dating. I’m on a bit of a man hiatus.”
I try not to let the crushing defeat I feel come across when I ask, “Man hiatus?”
She chuckles softly. “Yes. As you have probably already figured out. I make poor choices, and I’m not a good judge of character.
Therefore, I’m halting all potential douchebag dating until further notice.
” I start to speak, but she holds both hands up in a pleading motion, halting me before I can get a word out.
“That came out wrong. I don’t think you’re a douchebag, but I never do, so I can’t be trusted.
I know you’re likely thinking that one fuckwit doesn’t warrant this reaction, but that guy wasn’t the first ass clown.
He was the biggest one, for sure, but not the first. They’ve all been some form of worthless, so I’m taking a break. I do appreciate the offer, though.”
She reaches forward, placing her hand on top of mine. Her touch sends a surge of warmth and comfort across my entire body. I know she feels something too, because her eyes shift rapidly to where she’s touching me. She doesn’t move, and I sure as hell don’t because I don’t want to break the spell.
She looks up at me, and her eyes are wary now. All of the appreciation and affection I thought I saw there before is gone. It’s been replaced with...vigilance.
Shit.
Whatever it was that I felt with her touch, she didn’t feel the same thing.
Somehow, the touch seems to have confirmed for her that she shouldn’t trust men.
That she shouldn’t trust me. She flashes a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes.
It’s not quite as miserable as the one she gave Fast and Furious earlier, but it’s no rainbow smile either.
I smile back at her, resigned to this new fate, as she walks away.
I’m finishing my drink and readying myself for the long walk home when I notice Macy whispering to one of the other bartenders.
She jerks her head to a man seated several stools down from me.
There are plenty of empty seats now, so the man is easily visible to me.
One of the male bartenders walks over to a guy sitting at the other end of the bar and says something into his ear.
The guy immediately grabs his drink and walks over to the man who has their interest. The patron pretends to stumble once he gets closer to the man and spills his beer down the man’s back.
It surely looked like an accident to anyone who wasn’t trained to spot a trap, but I know that whole thing was orchestrated. It started with Macy.
Macy. I look up to find her just now realizing that this is the longest I’ve taken my eyes off of her all night.
She’s standing there swapping the glass of wine on the bar in front of the man for an identical glass that she already holds in her hand.
Instantly, I know what’s happening. She saw that man drug the drink.
Sure enough, moments later, a beautiful blonde woman walks up to the man whose back is now soaked in beer.
They speak, but I can’t hear them, and their mouths aren’t visible enough for me to read their lips.
I can see that she’s offering for them to leave, but the man ushers her to her seat, sliding the wine in front of her.
Macy comes toward me with the glass she swapped out while maintaining a visual on the glass she left. The closest sink is directly in front of me, and it looks like she plans to set the drugged wine glass in it. Maybe not all hope is lost. Maybe this is my chance to get more time with her.
They likely have cameras behind the bar.
In a club this size, they probably have cameras all over the place.
My foolish next moves are already formulating in my mind.
Limp dicks like this guy usually have a backup roofie in case the first one doesn’t take, so he’ll most likely also have something on him.
That will be enough to confirm that what he put in the drink was actually some sort of date rape drug.
Besides, city cops won’t come equipped to collect liquid evidence.
They undoubtedly don’t even have the ability to test the contents of the drink anyway.
All of these things are worked out in my mind before Macy reaches the sink with the drink, and I know what I’m going to do.
Something stupid. Something really desperate and stupid.
When Macy reaches the sink, she sets the glass down beside it and turns back to see the would-be rapist return to his date.
I reach out and quickly grab the drink, downing it before she has time to react. “Thank you. That was very kind of you. I rarely drink wine.” I tell her this like I thought the drink was intended for me, and I’m oblivious to everything else that’s going on.
Macy’s eyes go comically wide, and her mouth falls open.
She scrambles up over the bar until she’s straddling my lap, and I’m suddenly the happiest I can ever remember being.
Is this really happening? My hands move instinctively to her slim waist. A broad smile stretches across my face.
She fits perfectly in my lap. This feeling is euphoric, until she shoves her small hand into my mouth, and begins choking me.