Chapter 15 Night Out
Night Out
Bon Jovi’s husky voice greeted me as I entered the bar.
The music choice, like the town, remained entrenched in another era.
I felt like I’d stepped back in time, but I really didn’t mind.
I loved old-school eighties music. Mom used to play it loudly all the time.
We’d sing at the top of our lungs and dance around the kitchen.
A pang of loss filled my chest, as it always did when I thought about her. It was a loss I’d never recover from. The guilt, a noose around my neck that wouldn’t ever release.
I shoved thoughts into the dark recesses of my mind and focused on finding BJ.
It wasn’t like I wanted to make friends.
What was the point of that? You couldn’t trust friends.
You couldn’t trust anyone. I hated feeling so negative, but that’s what life had taught me.
I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself. And even that wasn’t a guarantee.
From now on, my heart would be coated in a sheet of ice.
But some company other than the wolf while I drowned my sorrows might be nice.
If he wasn’t here, then I’d sit at the bar and drink on my own. No big deal.
I was used to being alone. I was used to being lonely.
Coming out had nothing at all to do with the fact that Karson might be here. Nothing at all.
The place was busy, the dance floor full of writhing, sweat-soaked bodies.
I craned my neck, peering through the crowd.
The two bar stools were empty. My chest hollowed as a strange sense of disappointment took hold.
I didn’t have the emotional capacity to consider why I felt that way, probably it was as simple as having eye candy to distract my mind from Tom.
I spotted BJ sitting at a table on the far wall with a pretty blond girl. He caught my eye and stood up, giving me a surprised grin, he waved me over enthusiastically.
Smiling, I headed over, skirting my way around drunken revelers.
“Hi, you’re not from around here, are you?” Kevin, the guy who’d been spurned by Dahlia, stepped in front of me, blocking my way forward.
On closer inspection, I judged him to be heading toward the tail end of his thirties, about my height, and rake thin—aside from a pregnant-looking stomach.
Alcohol had been his friend tonight; his eyes slanted together as he tried to focus.
He wore black fitted jeans, so tight, I could practically make out the hairs on his balls.
I heaved a sigh. “No.”
“Would you like a drink?”
I had no time for any man after Tom. Not even Karson—definitely not Karson.
“No thanks. Excuse me,” I answered hastily, stepping around him.
“Jesus, don’t go near him,” the pretty blond said, twisting of her face, her brown eyes alight with amusement. “He tries to get his dick, and the odd finger, up anything that moves.”
I laughed.
“You came?” BJ sounded surprised.
“I did,” I agreed.
“Amy, this is Jodie.”
“Hi, Jodie.” I smiled.
Jodie smiled back. “Nice to meet you.”
“What can I get you to drink, girls?” BJ asked.
“Vodka, half-strength, and soda water, please.” I could have a couple of half-strength drinks early and still be fine to drive home.
Jodie smoothed down her hair. “Same, thank you, but full-strength obviously.”
“Try to behave yourself while I’m gone, Jodie.” BJ shot her the mock warning before sauntering off to the bar to order drinks.
I slid down next to her. “Are you BJ’s girlfriend?” I asked when he was out of earshot.
“Oh, goodness no. We’ve been friends since we were about eight. He’s a lovely guy, but we are definitely in the ‘friends only’ zone.” She leaned toward me, eyes glinting as she spoke in low, excited tones. “His family are witches.”
Vampires, ghosts, and now witches. I wasn’t even shocked this time. I kept my face blank, forcing a smile.
“His mom makes the best herbal potions. She can heal almost anything. My friend’s aunt was sick—she spent weeks unable to get out of bed, and the doctors couldn’t work it out.
Vanessa came one day and gave her some tea, did some crazy chant, and the next day she was up like new.
” She paused to look and see if my excitement matched hers.
“That’s amazing,” I offered, because saying ‘sounds like a load of shit’ is a little rude.
“Yes, and she does readings. Very accurate, apparently. Not that I’ve been of course.
” She gestured with a slender, manicured hand.
“But people come from all over the country to see her. But poor BJ seems to have missed out on his family’s abilities.
He can’t tell futures or make a good cup of tea, unfortunately. ”
I huffed a laugh, my eyes drifting to BJ’s tall frame and then across to the end of the bar. Ethan was perched there, staring at the drink he twirled in his fingers.
Jodie’s eyes followed mine. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”
“Oh, who, Ethan? I guess, if you like that kind of look.” I struggled with the disclosure.
She grinned. “You mean tall, dark, handsome, with amazing eyes, and the best ass? I most certainly do.”
Ethan’s lips curved up, as if he’d heard what she said, even though it was impossible.
The crowd moved apart, and I watched, enthralled, as Karson stalked through them. He cut a dark, impressive figure, like a lion moving through a herd of gazelles. He sat down beside Ethan and said something to him with hardly a sideways glance.
“What’s the story with Karson?” I asked, just to make conversation.
She scowled in his direction. “No one knows really, a bit of a mystery. He owns the bar. He just appears from time to time. He’s equally hot in a broody kind of way. He never goes home with anyone, though. Shame.”
I smoothed down the creases in my jeans. “Something tells me you don’t have too much trouble picking up.”
She grinned and flicked her hair over her shoulders. “Well, no. The boys do love a blond, you know?”
“Here you go, ladies.” BJ handed us our drinks, sliding in beside me. “And he does go home with them sometimes. Remember the young woman who was here for the night and was never seen again?”
Jodie’s eyes lit up, as she leaned forward. “Lucy, yes! Rumor has it he murdered her.”
Lucy . . . the missing girl on the notice board in the diner.
I reeled back. “What? No way!”
I glanced up at Karson. He was talking to Ethan, a lopsided smirk on his lips. He hardly looked like a killer—too handsome, too sophisticated. He had a darkness, I could sense it beneath the light in his eyes, but I couldn’t imagine someone like him with blood on his hands.
Or could I?
“She was a journalist from Two Peaks. She was here one night, chatting to him and . . . poof!” She waved her arms dramatically. “Gone the next.”
BJ rolled his eyes. “She went hiking the next day and got lost. But you know how small towns work—why ruin a good story with the truth?”
I was beginning to figure that out.
“I’m going to put some music on.” Jodie jumped up and glided to the jukebox. A large group of already tipsy twenty-somethings had entered, and the bar was getting packed. BJ’s eyes followed Jodie.
“She seems nice,” I said, taking a few mouthfuls from my drink. It tasted like lemonade and went down a little too easily.
He nodded, dragging his eyes away. “She is. Nice, but a little naughty at the same time.”
ACDC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” blasted across the room. Jodie came back to the table looking super pleased with herself.
“Really, Jodie?” I chuckled. “What era are you from?”
“Oh, it’s a classic! It never dates,” she said, sitting down and singing along to the song. I laughed at her actions on the chair, which reflected some of the words in the song. Jodie, it seemed, was not shy. Nor did she give a damn what anyone thought of her.
“Georgie!” Jodie squealed, standing up to go cuddle a girl who headed toward us.
Georgie was tall and curvy and strutted with a hip swagger worthy of a catwalk.
Dark-brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and thick, arched eyebrows framed her big blue eyes.
She embraced Jodie with a warm hug and a kiss on her cheek.
BJ stood up, and she embraced him too. Then she looked at me expectantly.
I didn’t get up; I could hardly hug someone I’d just met, and to be honest, I’d never really been much of a hugger.
“Amy! So nice to meet you. I’m Georgie. You’re as stunning as BJ said you were.”
BJ sprung to his feet with a hint of horror on his face. “Vodka, Georgie?”
She shot him an amused grin. “Is the Pope Catholic?”
“Sit down, BJ. I will get you a round of drinks.” Clint appeared at the table. “Amy, good to see you walking on the other side.” I’d only spoken to Clint briefly the night before, but he seemed easygoing and friendly.
Eyes averted, BJ sat down. We ordered our drinks, and Clint moved off to get them.
“So, Amy, what brings you all the way to the mountains?” Georgie enquired.
I fiddled with the ring on my finger. “I needed a change, and it’s beautiful here.” I repeated the same line I had used a few times now.
She looked at me with unasked questions in her eyes. BJ smiled sympathetically.
Sorrow spread under the ice I swore I’d build like spiked leaves. Was my grief that obvious? Did I wear it like a sign splashed across my skin? Did it swell like rot from the place that was supposed to bloom? Here’s the broken girl no one loves.
“Well, I, for one, am glad you did, because now we have a new drinking buddy,” Jodie said with forced brightness, raising her glass and shooting down the rest of her drink.
Clint returned with a tray of drinks, placing them down individually on the table in front of us. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a fifty-dollar bill.
“It’s on the house.” He indicated toward the end of the bar where Ethan and Karson were.
Neither of them were looking our way. I’d never been comfortable with people buying me drinks—particularly men I hardly knew. They almost always had ulterior motives, ones I wasn’t keen to encourage.
I shook my head. “No, I prefer to pay.”