Saving Della-Ray Page 4

  I worked here, so I really needed the job and my reputation intact. “Great. If you feel that way then keep away from me from now on,” I said, and immediately tried to hurry away, but he caught me again. I faced him and tried to unclench his fingers from round my arm.

  "Look at me!” he ordered as he shook me like a rag doll.

  Red hot rage bubbled up in me, but before I could throw all caution to the wind and slap him hard right there in middle of my workplace, a large fist came out of nowhere and ploughed into his face. The blow hit Michael so hard he went flying to the floor. It all happened so fast I was still standing shocked. For a second, all I could do was stare at the pile of trash he looked like on the floor. Then I turned and met the eyes of the other person I didn't want to see at that moment.

  I still didn't know his freaking name.

  He stood staring down at the prone man with an expression that was begging him to get up so he could knock him right back down again.

  "It's alright. He’s just drunk. Don't worry about it,” I said quickly.

  He didn't even look at me. His gaze remained on Michael as he struggled to peel himself off from the floor.

  "Honestly, it’s okay. I know him," I tried to explain. "Well, we used to date. He's not troubling me. Just … just let it go. This is where I work. I don’t want any trouble. Come on. Let’s go."

  Suddenly, Michael recovered his senses, jumped to his feet with a roar and before I could say another word, the biker pulled me out of the way.

  "You fucking bast—” Michael drew out his clenched hand to land a punch, but then froze mid-air the moment his brain registered the biker. It would have been comical if it wasn’t so damn embarrassing.

  At first, I thought it was fear at his imposing presence since Michael was at least a head shorter than the biker.

  Then he smiled, his golden tooth once again appearing. "Bone? Why the fuck are you here?”

  I turned towards my savior. His name was ... Bone? And he was acquainted with Michael? Well, that made sense since they must operate in similar circles, but … why did he have a name like Bone?

  “McCarthy,” was all Bone said, not answering his question.

  Michael regarded him a while longer and then the suspicion flashed in his eyes as his gaze roved from the biker to me behind him. “You’re - you can’t be … You’re fucking with him?”

  When neither of us responded, Michael burst out into hysterical laughter, but the absence of humor was almost painful.

  I didn’t understand why we were still indulging him as he fought all on his own to put an end to his fake mirth.

  I wanted to leave but the biker didn’t move and instead waited patiently for Michael to get over himself.

  “She used to be mine,” he began.

  My head fell a little at this announcement.

  He went on, “Did she tell you? For a while, we had quite the romance going, didn’t we? Have you tasted her? She’s juicy, isn’t she? You’re going to have quite the ride with her.” He leaned forward toward Bone to say in a conspiratorial whisper, “Just between you and me, she especially loves the reverse cow girl. She goes even wilder when she can’t see your face and all she has to take along for the ride is a big cock.”

  I felt the tears sting my eyes. He was lying. We never got past first base, but no matter what I said, some of the large audience around us was enjoying the show and would spread that piece of gossip.

  “You’re a pathetic liar and a pig, Michael,” I snarled. I couldn’t meet the biker’s eyes. I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes as I turned around and walked away.

  A round of gasps rang out behind me a split second before the sound of a table breaking and glasses smashing as women’s screams filled the air.

  I whirled back around to see Michael sprawled on the floor and it all made me even more furious, at the embarrassment, the attention, and the spectacle. I would now be the talk of the town for a long time to come. I went past the bar into the backroom and decided to stay there until it was closing time.

  I would have left straight away, but my ride home was Henry, the barman. The longer I stayed at the backroom fuming, the more the shame dissipated and all that filled my thoughts was the checkup I had to take Jess to next month. I began to calculate the tips that were falling into Lena’s pocket because of my decision to wallow in self-pity and not work in my section.

  So I rose, straightened my shoulders and returned to the floor. The usual flow of the night had resumed, as though absolutely nothing had happened.

  Lena hurried by then, but stopped and backtracked when she saw me. “Hey, I thought you left.”

  “Nah, Henry’s my ride, remember? How’s it going?”

  “I’m going crazy. It seems the little fight over you boosted the morale of the damn place, the drama thirsty bastards. There’s practically an unspoken consensus for a round of new drinks. I’m dying, come back and take over your section. I can’t do this.”

  “Alright,” I replied and tapped her arm with gratitude for her kindness. I knew she could manage very well on her own, but she knew I needed the money and she was just trying to help me without wounding my pride. I moved into the room to find new orders, but it looked like she had taken care of everyone already. To my horror, my eyes kept darting about looking for him. Was he still around?

  My eyes found him and my heart caught in my throat.

  He was sitting at the bar a drink in hand … and his gaze was on me, hooded, heated, and unblinking.

  Della Ray

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JF8BRvqGCNs

  -if you dare come a little closer-

  I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I stopped in my tracks and felt as if I was frozen in time. My heart was beating so fast I thought I would faint. Then someone pushed into me and in the process of them apologizing knocked me out of my trance. I remembered my debt to him, so I checked to confirm that the envelope was still in my pocket and made my way over to him. I pulled the battered envelope from the pocket of my shorts and laid it on the counter. “Here’s what I owe you,” I said unable to meet his eyes.

  “Sit with me,” he invited.

  “I’m not really supposed to,” I croaked. I did not know why I even responded. Perhaps my body was already pre-programmed to respond to the anticipation I had nursed all day about him.

  He pushed the envelope over to me and said quietly, “Will this cover a drink for both of us?”

  I nodded. “But—”

  “I’ll also cover your tips till the bar closes,” he added.

  Okay, I was sold. I took the much-needed rest and sat down.

  “What do you drink?” he asked.

  I stopped for a moment to think about it and when I returned my gaze back to him, I could see the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  “You don’t know?” he teased. “You work in a bar, and you don’t know?”

  “I’m not much of a drinker,” I responded, almost hypnotized by his direct gaze. “You don’t blink much, do you?”

  He blinked then, just as his set of perfectly gorgeous teeth flashed at me.

  Something warm burst open from my chest then and began to trickle into every nook and hidden place in my body. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  He took a sip of his drink. Strands of hair had escaped from the slicked style and hung around the sides of his face. They softened his look considerably, but I knew that was all a deception. Everything about him said, tread carefully. From the strong jaw to the veiled, hooded eyes, to the strained vein that ticked restlessly down the side of his strong neck, and the thickness of his biceps straining against his plain black T-shirt. He radiated a quiet strength that very few would be oblivious too. As a matter of fact there was absolutely nothing soft about this man. It made me wonder why I had been invited to sit down next to him.

  “Why? Why did you help me out at the store?”

  He drained the last of his whiskey. When his tongue shot out to lick h
is lips, I clenched my thighs to stop the painful arousal he was effortlessly invoking in me. I had never ever been so physically attracted to someone. I wanted nothing but to taste him.

  “I was in a rush,” he answered.

  “What?”

  He never took his eyes off me. “I was in a hurry that day. I didn’t want to wait.”

  “Oh,” I responded and looked away, my gaze fluttering over to the racks of glistening bottles of liquor that lined the bar before me. It was just what I needed. I looked at Bone, then at his empty glass. “Same again.”

  “Same again,” he echoed.

  “Nick?” I called out. “A long island iced tea for me, and same again for … Bone, please.”

  Nick’s eyes widened not just at my order, but also at the man I was sitting by. With a kind smile he delivered our order. “I added a bit of juice to sweeten things up for ya,” he said.

  My heart went out to him in gratitude. I pushed the money I had extracted from the envelope towards him.

  Nick shook his head. “This one’s on the house.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He winked at me and walked away.

  I took a long, long sip of my drink and glanced at the man I knew was watching my every move. “Thank you,” I said. “For your help that day.”

  “The little girl you were with,” he began.

  Then like a habit, I felt everything inside of me tighten in defense. “Jess,” I whispered my baby’s name.

  “Is she yours?” he asked.

  My answer was prompt. “Yes, she is.”

  He looked away. “Must be tough,” he said with a sigh.

  My back was ramrod straight with defensiveness. “It’s not. She’s the loveliest little girl in the entire world. She’s made my entire life a million times better.”

  “Probably,” he said and lost himself to deep contemplation.

  I didn’t know whether to continue being offended by his pity, or if something else entirely was going on.

  “Tracy was definitely a light in mine,” he said quietly. “But sometimes, I’m not entirely sure if that was true. It wasn’t her fault, I know but she still left, and destroyed me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for that.”

  My eyes narrowed in confusion. “Tracy?”

  “My daughter,” he replied. “She had down syndrome just like Jess. She left a day before her fifth birthday.”

  Something cold and painful struck me so hard in the middle of my chest, it took my breath away.

  He swung his body towards me. So fast, I was surprised how in tune he was to me. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft, but edged with concern.

  “You had a daughter like Jess,” I gasped in shock. It was the last thing I could have ever imagined hearing from this man.

  “I did …” he responded, his voice taking on a wistful, yearning quality. “A lifetime ago.”

  I wanted to know more, much more, but I didn’t know if it would be appropriate to prod any further. Even revealing what he already had, it felt like I’d somehow pried into something very, very private and horribly painful.

  “Jess is actually not my daughter," I explained softly. I hadn’t planned on telling him that, but I hated seeing the pain buried inside him, and I just wanted to take the conversation away from his girl and his pain. “My sister had her, but because we’d just lost both of our parents she didn’t have much to live by and she couldn’t cope with how much attention Jess needed. She’s not a bad person. She just got terrified that she wouldn’t be able to do it. You know, care properly for Jess.”

  “And you?” he asked, staring at me. “You’re not terrified?”

  In that moment, brutal reality hit me. Maybe Nichole was right. I was the cruel one here. Denise had enough brains to give up Jess, so she could find a family who would be able to give her all the care she needed. I had been adamant that we shouldn’t put Jess up for adoption, but now I could barely feed us and I’d definitely, massively underestimated the intensity of the medical care she would require for the heart disease that came with her condition. At the time, I had been so full of naïve enthusiasm I had been ready to do whatever it took to keep her with me, but I was beginning to doubt the wisdom in my decision.

  “Hey,” he prompted softly. “I’m not criticizing your decision.”

  “I am terrified,’ I replied. “I’m terrified she needs more than I can give, but—I can’t trust that anyone else would love her more than me or give her what she deserves either.”

  For the longest time, he didn’t speak, just stared at the surface of the bar as if he was a statue.

  I waited until I couldn’t anymore, then I leaned a bit closer to him. He was more than just the hunk I couldn’t get out of my mind now. He had become a person whom had been through the same deep waters I was currently trying my best to stay afloat in, but he had drowned. More than before, I could appreciate the sadness in his eyes. Something told me that his pain went much deeper than I would ever be able to comprehend.

  “What do you think? Do you think I should give her up?” I asked. “Bone?”

  He turned to me, his gaze so full of pain, regret and fury I felt my chest constrict.

  “Keep going,” he growled. “Keep going until you absolutely cannot anymore. Because if you don’t, and she gets hurt. God! The guilt that you could have done much, much more for her, if only you’d tried just a little bit harder will forever haunt you. You might never recover from it.”

  I wanted to ask about the mother of his child, but I reckoned that we had gone a little further than I had anticipated tonight. Yeah, it was time to stop.

  I drained what was left of my drink and rose from the stool with a mixture of exhaustion, emotion, or maybe it was just the drink, I couldn’t tell, but it made my knees buckle under me. I stumbled and staggered backwards, my arms flailing.

  His reaction was lightning quick. He caught me, one strong hand snaking around my waist and the other on my arm.

  I looked up into his smoldering eyes. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, breathing him in as much as I could just before my feet were completely stabled on the ground.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I croaked, staring up into his eyes. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was fluttering.

  He let go of me.

  I needed to know his real name. That mattered. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Your real name.”

  He cocked his head. “I have many names. Which one do you want?”

  It should have been a funny comment to make, but as we gazed at each other, we both knew that there was nothing amusing in what he just said. He wasn’t joking and I had a feeling that I didn’t want him to already have an answer to that question. “The name your mother gave you.”

  I waited with bated breath.

  He shook his head. “Not that one.”

  “Okay,” I said softly, “we’ll stick to Bone.”

  I suddenly realized neither of us had brought the issue of Michael up yet. “Uh, thanks for what you did … with Michael, I mean.”

  His eyes hardened suddenly. “It was a pleasure.”

  “By the way, those things he said ...” I swallowed hard. The way Bone was watching me made me feel lightheaded. “It was all lies. I—uh, we never—we never got that far.”

  A flash of something crossed his eyes. It was only for a second, but it was fierce and primal.

  “I have to go … round up for the evening,” I said, my voice suddenly breathless.

  When I turned around to leave, he caught my hand and pulled me softly back into him.

  I wanted to move away, but my body went spineless and weak, unable to fight against the intoxicating draw of him. The strangest thing happened then. He slid his hand around my waist and without thinking, I leaned my head to the side of his body as he cradled my face in the crook of his arm. It wasn’t a sexual thing. It was as if we were the scarred, war torn survivors of a holoc
aust blindly turning to each other for warmth and comfort. If he hadn’t been holding me up, I was certain I would have collapsed right there. The scrape of the hairs down his arm wreaked shivers down my skin.

  “Have you ever flown through the quiet night on the back of a Harley?” he whispered hoarsely.

  I couldn’t speak. I could only shake my head in response.

  “Let me give you a ride home.”

  Both of us knew it wasn’t a ride home that he was offering. I wanted with all my heart to go, but he had been drinking all night, and I was the guardian of a girl who very much needed me. I couldn’t make foolish decisions like blasting off on the back of a very dangerous motorcycle with a very dangerous man, in the middle of the night.

  I found the strength to pull away from his scent, from his warmth, from the fire he was igniting throughout my body. I still couldn’t speak, so I cracked a smile and forced myself to walk away, my hand resting on the emptied bar stools along the counter to keep me stable. When I arrived in the staff room, I sank down on a chair. I needed to get my wits back on track.

  This man … was far too dangerous for me.

  Della Ray

  "Hey, aren't you ready to go?" Henry asked from the door.

  I looked up from the sneaker laces I’d been tying. "Oh, no need," I said to him. "A friend of mine will drop me off."

  “Cool. See you tomorrow, then,” he said and closed the door.

  I was left alone in the changing room. In the silence of the room, I began to doubt my sanity. I had just given up my only ride home, almost half an hour away and for what? What the hell was I thinking? I had already even said no to the biker whose name I still didn't know. Why did I think that he would still be outside and waiting? I was truly losing it!

  I grabbed my backpack and without even putting on my jacket, I ran into the bar.

  "Bye, Della,” Nick called out from polishing a glass.

  “Bye,” I called back and ran out of the bar.

  Henry’s car was pulling out of the lot, so I ran after him. “Henry!" I screamed, but the audio system in his car drowned out anything but the sound of his rickety engine as he sped it onto the road.