Track 19 #2
My stomach sinks slightly when I don’t find him in his usual locations—behind the bar and stocking shelves from the storage closet near the back entrance.
My heart flutters and heat fills my veins as that night in the storage closet comes rushing back to me.
Jake’s strong, wide hand sprawled against my back, clutching onto my waist as he grinded his hardness against me in the most satisfying way.
His soft lips against my neck, his breath kissing my lips before he reached up and—
Warmth circles my wrist, and I’m pulled backward, spun until my palms land on a hard, warm chest.
Jake.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says in a low whisper, but it comes out sexy and seductive, and it sends me spinning. My heartbeat becomes a loud thud, the pulse of it landing between my legs. I don’t say anything for a minute. I just stare at him in wonderment.
“What’d you miss me or something?” he teases, his lips curving into the most endearing grin.
“Yes,” I blurt unexpectedly. “I mean…” I shake my head, trying to clear my brain. Jake’s smile deepens, kissing his eyes. “What are you doing? I thought you said you were working tonight. I haven’t seen you once.”
“I am. Backbar. I switched with Sheryl so I wouldn’t be up front distracting you.”
“You don’t distract me.” Lie.
“Oh, please. You’ve always been very affected by just the sight of me,” he says with a smug grin.
“I have not.”
“Have, too.”
“Have n—Ugh,” I grunt. “You’re literally twelve.”
“And a half,” he says with a downward turn of his lips and a wink. My heart jumps in my chest, my stomach somersaulting and fluttering with butterflies. Just before it’s too much to bear, he lets my wrist go and takes a small step backward. My skin screams in protest.
“How’s it going out there?” he asks.
“Fine,” I rub my palms along the side of my jeans, “but he’s getting impatient. What’s this plan, and when is it gonna be over?”
“Nate’s girls should be here any minute. Just keep him occupied. Thirty minutes, tops.”
“Thirty?!” I whisper-yell. “I don’t even think I have ten!”
“You’ll figure it out. You’re good at getting guys to stick around,” he says with a side smirk.
“Okay, well,” I let out a breath, once again finding myself at a loss for words. “What exactly is the plan, though?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Two girls are going to grab his attention. The rest will be a piece of pie.”
“Cake,” I correct.
“Hmm?”
“The rest will be a piece of cake.”
He shrugs. “Pie sounds better.”
“It doesn’t matter how it sounds. It’s wrong.”
“Tomato, toe-mah-toe.”
I roll my eyes. “One of those is also wrong.”
“Do you like to argue? Is that, like, a thing for you?” He gives me that sexy grin.
“No. I just know when I’m right. Which is why I’m gonna need to know this plan, so I can make sure it’ll work—”
“Just…” He closes the space between us and cups my cheek in his hand, his thumb just around my ear. “Do you trust me?”
My heart is beating erratically behind my sternum at the feel of his hand, at the closeness of his lips. My stomach quivers with anxiety. But still, everything inside forces me to say, “Yes.”
Jake’s lips twitch with another side smile. “Good.” He kisses my forehead and moves to walk away, turning back to me after just a few steps. “And don’t think I didn’t catch that you were looking for me,” he adds.
“I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He grins. “Bet you don’t even have to go to the bathroom.”
I purse my lips to hide my smile, and he winks at me before turning around and heading back into the bar space. I don’t have to tell him he’s right.
A minute later, I return to my table. Derek does a double take.
“You do a line of coke in the bathroom or somethin’?” he asks as I take my seat.
“What the hell kind of question is that?” I scoff.
“Your cheeks are all flush, and you look, I don’t know.” He frowns as he shrugs. “Different.”
I summon patience from deep within my soul. “No,” I breathe, annoyed. “I didn’t do cocaine in the bathroom, Derek. I don’t do drugs, but thanks.” I give him a smug, unappreciative smile.
“Be a lot cooler if ya did.” He tosses a tater tot into the air and catches it in his mouth. Idiot, I think to myself. “Anyway,” he steps off his stool. “Let’s go. I’m done here.”
“Done?” Panic begins to crawl up my spine. “But my friends haven’t gotten here yet.”
“Yeah, well, they’re taking too long, and I’m over this joint.” He shakes his jacket out as if it got dusty while he was sitting. He turns to me. “Come on.”
“No,” I say as calmly as I can muster while anxiousness swirls like bile in my stomach. “I’m not leaving until my friends get here.”
“Fuck your friends. Let’s. Go.”
My heart rate kicks up tenfold, and I can feel it pulsing in my neck. “I’m not leaving.” I try to sound confident, but it falls on deaf ears.
“I’m not asking,” he hisses as he takes a step toward me, the smell of bourbon wreaking on him.
He’s buzzed. Maybe a little more than that, though his stance is steady and his eyes are clear.
I know he can handle his alcohol well, among other things, but I also know if there’s anything that makes Derek nastier than he already is, it’s dark liquor.
I’m not up for the fight. Whatever plan Jake had in mind will just have to be put on pause for now.
I hop off my stool, the unimpressed look of a stubborn toddler painted on my face.
Anger flares in his eyes before he grabs my wrist and pulls me behind him, leading me toward the bar’s exit.
Safe from Derek’s scrutiny, I look around the room in search of Jake, hoping he can see what’s happening and call this whole thing off.
Derek opens the door forcefully, getting us multiple glances from the bystanders on the sidewalk.
“You know, Alana, I’ve put up with a lot of shit from you.
A lot of fucking shit. And for what?!” My eyes frantically scan the small crowd he’s pulling me through.
I have no idea where his mind is exactly, but for whatever reason, he’s angry.
I know better than to argue with him. I try to pull myself from his grasp as he drags me to the parking lot, but his grip around my wrist only tightens.
“Ow, Derek. You’re hurting me.” I grab his hand that’s holding mine and try to loosen his fingers. He tightens them even more, making me yelp. Then he spins me and slams my back against an empty car in the lot. My body aches from the harsh impact.
“You being a fucking bitch to me, that’s what I get.
Your miserable fucking face and your nasty little comments.
And what’d I ever do to you, huh?” He points a finger in my face, his grip still strong on my wrist. “You think you’re so much better than everyone,” he seethes.
“You and your piece of shit brother! With your fucking scholarships and police academy bullshit. You’re not better! ” he screams.
I’m nearly brought to my knees from the pain his grip causes. His hold is so strong, it feels like my bone might snap like a pencil.
Panic and fear rage inside me. My eyes begin to sting, and my spirit shrinks to someone unrecognizably small. For the first time in a long time, I’m genuinely afraid and have absolutely no way out.
“Derek, please,” I plead pathetically. But I won’t apologize. I refuse. I treat him like shit because it’s what he deserves. After everything he’s admittedly done to my family, he should get worse.
He must see my defiance, even through my pleading, because his eyes light with an evil fire as he raises a hand to hit me. I flinch and snap my eyes shut, turning my face away as I await the impact.
But then he releases me, my wrist throbbing thankfully from the new release in pressure.
I drop to my knees, massaging my wrist as a gargling sound fills my ears. It takes a few blinks to clear my vision from my tears, and then my eyes go wide in horror.
Jake has Derek’s neck trapped in a headlock.
Derek’s eyes are wide, clearly shocked from the attack, his face turning red with its lack of oxygen.
Jake’s eyes are on me intensely, veins straining along his arms and neck.
The look in his gaze is something I’ve never seen before.
It’s something animalistic. Instinctive. Protective.
Derek’s eyes regain focus and he raises an elbow, slamming it hard into Jake’s ribs. It causes him to let Derek go.
He spins around, hands already raised as he pulls breath back into his lungs. “What’s up, motherfucker? You got a problem?” he seethes.
Jake’s eyes bounce to me quickly, and I shake my head no, fright evident in my eyes, but he pays me no mind. He sets his right foot backward, angling his body as he raises his large fists into position. He wipes the side of his nose with his thumb and tucks his chin, his eyes dark and angry.
Panic. Dread. Fear. Shock.
All of it swarms me in a rush, and my belly rolls with nausea. This can’t be happening.
“Tough guy, huh?” Derek provokes as he spits off to the side. “Let’s see what you're made of, hotshot.” He throws a jab, and Jake sidesteps, dodging it completely. He throws another, and another, and they begin to circle, Jake bouncing lightly on his feet.
Derek chuckles. “Oh, he’s a fighter. What are you fighting for, huh? This bitch over here?” Derek spits again in my direction. “Trust me, kid, she’s not worth it,” he says, tone vehement.
My heart continues to sink. Jake remains silent and focused, his eyes never moving off Derek as they circle. Derek grows impatient with the dance and throws a jab as he tries to inch closer to Jake.
Jake sidesteps each one, watching his opponent like prey, tactfully waiting for his opening.
The moment he sees it, he swings with his right fist, connecting it with the bridge of Derek’s nose. The cracking slap of flesh hitting flesh reverberates in the air, followed by a popping sound.
Derek stumbles backward as his nose begins to ooze blood. Jake moves toward him, taking advantage of Derek’s momentary delirium as he hits him again and again.
Derek summons strength and pushes Jake off him.
He hits him with a hook to the ribs in the same spot as before, leaving Jake leaning into the pain on his left side.
Derek seizes Jake’s downfall and throws another hook that lands on Jake’s cheek before punching him in the nose.
Blood spills from the middle of his face, and I shriek in response.
“Stop!” I scream, pulling at my hair as pure hysteria takes over, but it’s as if my voice is part of the wind. No one pays me any mind.
Derek swings again, but this time, it lands aimlessly.
Jake stands taller, his eyes flickering with a dangerous glint as he resets to go again.
When Derek swings, Jake blocks it and shoves him.
Derek falls back against the trunk of a car.
Jake lunges forward, his hands never stopping as he sends hit after hit across Derek's bloodied face. They topple to the ground, Jake on top of Derek, fists flying furiously. After a few more blows, Derek’s body goes limp.
“Jake!” I yell, but he doesn’t hear me. “JAKE, STOP!” I scream louder, pulling at his arm from behind with all my might. It’s like I’m moving stone.
His head snaps back, his eyes landing on my fretful gaze, and he freezes, his breaths heavy and labored. The fury in his gaze softens, the furrow in his brow releases, and the tension in his shoulders begins to disperse.
He turns back to Derek, releasing a tense breath over his unconscious body.
He raises a knee as he lifts to stand. He walks over Derek’s body and stops right in front of me, his battered knuckles coming up to my cheek.
“Are you okay?” Tears sting my eyes, and my chest tightens at the sight of his bloodied face.
His eyes pour into mine gingerly, before they move down my body and land on my already bruising wrist. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, the sound heavy with guilt.
“I should’ve been there. I should’ve noticed you were gone sooner.
” He gulps. “I’m so sorry, Allie.” His voice is laden with sorrow, and it rips my heart right out of my chest.
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” My palm meets his cheek, and I force his eyes back up to mine.
Adrenaline courses through me, no doubt still pulsing through him.
His face is covered in blood and is swelling by the second.
Sadness dims the light his hazel eyes usually hold, and there’s a heaviness in my chest. Remorse blankets me, penitence and shame colliding together with the realization of what I’ve done to him.
Sirens sound low in the distance, and the panic they cause snap me into a different fear. My eyes widen, and my hands come down on his chest.
“You have to go,” I say, my voice trembling from the reality of the last few minutes.
“No,” he replies, his hands at my elbows.
“Yes, Jake.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
The sirens grow louder in the distance.
“You have to run. Now! You have to go!”
“No.”
“Yes,” I beg. “Please!”
His gaze is glued to mine, completely unmoving. My hands are trembling, fear wrapping around my ribs. The sirens continue to blare in the background.
“Jake!”
“No.”
“Yes!” I yell, my voice cracking. “I’m not having another person I love get locked up because of me!”
His eyes narrow, lips parting at my desperate admission.
“Go!” I scream, knowing he has only seconds before they arrive. He drops his hands to his sides, taking a slow step backward before he turns and jogs into the night.
I stand there in the dark lot above a bloodied Derek, a crowd surrounding us while my heart thunders in my chest. The symphony of sirens grows louder with each ticking second, until everything around me is painted in blue and red.
It’s a scene I know far too well.
A scene I thought I left behind in a life far from here.
I guess you can’t outrun the darkness, after all.
Not when you’re the one creating it.