30. Ryke
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Alex sits his fizzy energy drink on the bar top. His distressed slate gray tee hangs loosely, messily cut, and barely meets his fitted jean shorts. The chops match, fraying tightly above his knee.
“She’s hung up on her own shit.” I glare at him, wiping my hands on my jeans, avoiding getting water on my white t-shirt. “You could at least use a coaster. Tess is going to kick your ass for leaving marks on her bar.” I have to grab more hand towels from the back.
“Whose ass am I kicking?” She rounds the corner, slipping her tote strap off her shoulder.
“Ayy, little miss sunshine all dressed in black.”
“Ah, I see. Alex The Great,” she mocks.
“I am great. Thank you.” He flashes a grin. “I was just telling Ryke here how he needs to get some poontang.”
Tess perks up, locking the safe and rising. “What happened to Max?” She leans against the bar, crossing her black combat boots till her toe balances on the floor.
“He’s lost his damn mind. He’s going to break up with her,” Alex beats me to the punch. “And all I’m saying is, he should soak his wild oats and listen to the girl laugh before he jumps off a fucking cliff.”
“Uh, yeah.” I hang my head, wishing I didn’t have to admit it.
“I’m sorry.” The left corner of her mouth pulls tight, not smiling or frowning.
“Don’t worry. He’s not going to fire her.”
My cold gaze settles on him.
“Alex. Shut. Up.”
“You think you can work with her?” Tess’ sculpted brows perk up.
“I won’t fire her because she’s not ready to be in a relationship. I think a breakup is brutal enough.”
She wrinkles her nose and steps closer, pressing her hand to the cool surface. “Don’t take this the wrong way. Ryke might be doing the right thing, but Rave is a different animal.”
Is she saying I’m incapable of controlling myself when I take on my alter ego? Yeah, I need to get some air. “I’ll be back later.” I walk to the end of the bar, heading toward my office.
“Ryke.”
“Alex. You’ve said enough.” I stop in the doorway with footsteps trailing behind me.
“Fuck, Ryke. I know you fucking love her,” he calls out.
Turning around, I walk up to him with inches of emptiness separating us. “Do you know what love is, Alex? No. You fucking don’t because you never stay with anyone long enough to feel it. I’m willing to let go of her because that’s what you do when you love someone.”
“You let them go. Yeah, sounds like a cop-out.” He bobs his head, violence lighting his eyes. “You’re scared.”
A rigid chuckle escapes my lungs. “I’m not scared.”
“Yes, you are. You’re afraid it’s going to end up like Rox and every other chick you chased down, only to be kicked to the curb.”
“It’s not like that, Alex.”
“What’s it like then, Ryke?”
“I fucking love her.” My hands shoot up, only to meet my temple. I toss my hair around in defeat. “I see a future with her and she…she can’t.” I close my eyes, dropping my chin to my chest. “I’m only delaying the inevitable.”
“You should talk to her, Ryke.” Tess holds up a bottle of Brother’s Bond, inviting me back.
Alex swings his leg over a stool, emptying his bright pink can. “Yeah, what if you’re wrong?” He pushes it to the side and curls two fingers, waving for a glass.
“What I want and what she wants don’t line up.” I stroll back to them, sitting next to my brutally honest friend.
“I think you’re making a mistake,” he continues.
“I’ve made a lot. Learned from every one of them.”
A kaleidoscope of colors paint the ceiling. Lying on my back for the second time tonight, I’m awakened from my drunken delusion by Hunter. “Yo, you’re on in ten minutes.”
I give him a thumbs up, staying glued to my office floor.
“I’m going to assume that there’s trouble in paradise.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re on the floor.”
“Yeah, hah.” I point a finger up. “That is unusual.”
He squats next to me. “Turn the character on. Whatever’s on your mind, won’t be.”
“Given my current status…” A burp burns my throat. “It’s gonna be rough.”
“Well, you have eight minutes now to sober up.” The shirtless blond holds out his hand. “Show must go on.”
“Right. I’m Rave.” I take his help, stand up, and lean against my desk. He pulls his hat off rubbing his head. “You’re worried?”
“This isn’t like you,” his velvety tone admits.
“Sometimes we make bad decisions. Bad fucking decisions.” I sigh. “Can you get me two bottles of water?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to go puke now.” Only way to sober up is to get it out.
He tucks his hat back on with an amused shake of his head.
My Friday night could have gone better. I stroll into the bathroom, gag myself till my stomach is as empty as I can get it, and brush my teeth. I open the lower cabinet, searching for the bottle of DHM pills. Alex and his hangover precautions.
Staring into the mirror, the reflection of a man I don’t recognize peers back at me.
What am I doing?
Pitch black and beautiful noise. They’re playing my intro song. Singing along. Off-pitch and accurate. I’m surprised they know it already. I switched it to Nick Cage 93 by Hueston three weeks ago. Butterflies twist their insides, anxiously awaiting the flashes of light and the masked man they lust over. All my…dirty little princesses.
At floor level, next to the stage, Hunter and Angelo greet me with mutual looks in the faint light.
“What’s with the long faces?” With a cocky wink and accompanying smile, I manipulate a plan. One only this persona would be comfortable with. “Hunter, let’s try something new tonight.”
“What do you have in mind?” He steps closer to hear me.
“Give me the mic. I’m introducing myself tonight.”
“You don’t want to rehearse it first?”
My teeth press into my lower lip as I shake my head. “Na.”
I pull my mask down, covering my face and follow the lights on the steps, finding my mark on stage. The chorus hits and the steams of red and blue crash over the crowd. The tinted spot light pans across the stage, separating into a string of circles that stop on all five of us. Frantic screeches paint a devious grin under my mask.
I hold the microphone to my mouth, waiting for their excitement to settle.
“Why?” One word out of my mouth and the building is filled with screams, echoing off the walls. “Why do you think I’m a piece of meat to stare at?” They coo and yell bratty phrases that mix together amongst the chaos. I lean into the mic. “I’m not yours.” That entices them more. Beautiful women. Brunettes, blondes, redheads, and purple two-toned sassy-mouthed princesses. “You’re mine,” I declare. “You worship me.” What did she say? Who was that? I search the crowd for the smart mouth that told me to get on my knees. “Good girls get rewards.” Wild squeals empty their lungs. “And bad girls…Oh, bad girls…get punished.”
Abruptly turning to Hunter, I hand him the mic and gesture for Angelo and Christian. I point out a few women from the crowd to pull on stage and take a center seat, folding my hands behind my head.
By the time the performance ends, nothing matters. I’m hyped and horny and Max is looking as sweet as always. I need her and she wants me.