Haunted (7 page)

“This way, please,” he said.

I was totally baffled as to why this man knew me. I knew there were PC brothers employed by the club, and I recognized a few of them working the other doors, but the five-foot nine-inch, three hundred pound man barking at me was clearly not. I decided not to put too much thought into the matter. Cooper was obviously hanging out there more than I’d thought, so I figured he must have left a note for them describing me: tall, skinny (impeccably dressed), with skin as white as her hair. I wasn’t hard to miss.

“Thanks,” I said as I blew past him into the bar, trying not to hear the protests from those in the queue.

Once in, I had the unenviable task of trying to locate Cooper in a sea of several hundred bodies – no easy task. Luckily for me I knew he wasn’t going to stray far from accessible alcohol and headed for the dance floor that was nearest the bar. It was clear that I was on the right track when I saw a veritable harem of whores encircling someone.

Gotcha!

“Excuse me, ladies, but I have some bad news to share with you. This one’s gay,” I shouted as I forced my way through the bimbos to greet Cooper.

“Girls, please. You must forgive my friend here, she hasn’t been laid in years…makes her cranky,” he replied before downing a shot.

“The only laying you’ll be doing tonight is on my bathroom floor in a pile of vomit,” I purred.

He threw back another shot and smiled.

“You win for now, Ruby. Tonight is your night,” he said in concession. “I'm very sorry, ladies, but I have a special date tonight here with my lonely friend. You’ll have to catch me here another time.”

I was floored when I literally heard disappointed “awws” from the women. These bitches are killing me. Seriously? They slowly scattered, but not without leaving their numbers, their card, or something else with Cooper. It was a sad display that made me embarrassed to be female.

“You didn’t have to be so mean to them, Ruby. They can’t help themselves,” Cooper said, slowly turning to give me a full view of the goods.

“That’s probably the understatement of the year, Coop, though for different reasons than you’re thinking. Is it going to be one of those nights tonight? Because if it is, I’m going home now,” I said with great sincerity.

“OK, Debbie Downer, I get the message. I’m good, I’m good,” he said, turning to order some drinks. “What are you having?”

“Vodka cran. No ice, lots of lime,” I said.

“Woohoo! Ruby brought her drinkin' shoes tonight, boys! It’s gonna be a wild one,” Cooper shouted to everyone at the bar.

“Bring it down a notch, Coop. I’m entirely too sober for you right now.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that now, won’t we?” he said, flashing me some pearly whites.

Even when I wanted to hate Cooper I couldn’t – it was maddening.

The bartender handed us our drinks and in the spirit of lightening up, I slammed mine in one shot. Cooper appeared impressed and ordered me another immediately. Feeling as though I was being challenged, I did it again. When he turned to order a third I stopped him.

“I think that’s plenty for now. I haven’t eaten so I should have a wicked buzz going any minute.”

“Perfecto! Shall we to the dance floor, milady?” he asked, sweeping his arm across his stomach and plunging into a low bow.

“You’re such a drama queen,” I said, trying to stifle my laugh unsuccessfully.

We made our way out into the masses. Cooper, I’d found out after living with him, was quite a dancer himself. It was rare to find a guy who could hold his own on the dance floor and he really could. I’d come home one day unexpectedly and found him bouncing around the living room to some ridiculous song that he shouldn’t have been listening to. It explained the shade of red he turned when he realized I’d been watching, and for quite a while at that.

The music at Vain was right up our alley, hip hop and rap with the occasional remix thrown in by the DJ. It was a great place to go and thump your troubles away to the bass line. We must have been at it for an hour or so judging by how sweaty we were both getting; we needed water and fast. The tempo of the music had slowed slightly and the volume softened a bit as well. I leaned in to tell Cooper that I was going to go get some water. As I did he looked like he was trying to see over my head, staring at something near the entrance of the club. I told him my plan and then pulled back to see if he’d heard me. He had an evil grin plastered all over his face, but not for me.

I started to turn so I could see what had prompted such a look from him when he grabbed me by the face and planted one on me. It startled me into a stupor. I didn’t hit him. I didn’t pull away – I just stood there.

And I kissed him back.

11

Once I realized what I was doing, not to mention where and with whom I was doing it, I seemed to come to my senses. I pushed off of his chest with both hands, getting myself a few feet clear of him so I could go off about his little stunt. I didn’t get the chance. He gave a satisfied look in the direction of the entrance and walked off, turning briefly to make the international gesture for “getting a drink” to me before disappearing into the crowd.

I was at a total loss for words, unsure of how to process what happened. Cooper and I had never been that way. Even though he was insanely good-looking, funny, smart, and younger than me – all the things a girl could want – it just never seemed to work out like that. Maybe it was the intensity of how we met, the circumstances that followed shortly thereafter, or his near death experience after being shot up with silver bullets in my living room, but something had kept us firmly in the “friend zone”. However, his behavior being what it was the last couple of months led me to believe that perhaps the “friend zone” lines had been expanded to include random public make-outs. I was not on board for that. At least that’s what my mind kept telling me, though I wasn’t certain my body had gotten the memo.

Realizing that I was standing still amid a gyrating mass of people, I decided to take refuge in one of the more private areas of the club suitable for someone flying solo. I figured Cooper could sniff me out without too much trouble, so I made my way over to raised catwalk area. It stood only a few feet above the main floor and was only deep enough for two or three people but it encircled the entire room, creating a neat effect. I found some real estate to claim and did a quick scan of the place. I scouted the bars as well to see if I could find Cooper, but it was useless. There were just too many bodies to even begin to make someone out.

One of my favorite songs blasted out of the speakers and it snapped me out of my search.

Just as I started to move with the beat a familiar sensation washed over my body.

Calm.

At that instant, I felt him behind me.

How did he know?

I tried to turn to ask him that very question, but he gently wrapped his arms around my chest, resting his hands on my shoulders. Without thinking I leaned back into him. It was déjà vu all over again, the power between us undeniable. I loved his touch. I loved his mind.

I loved him.

I wanted to forget how things were left – the hurt I felt then and was still feeling – but I couldn’t. Things were different now; I was different now. I tried throwing his party trick back at him, taking all my sorrow and anger, conjuring it up to emanate a single thought at him: please. I gently squeezed his forearm and he let me go. Walking away from Gravity, I felt his pull but I didn’t look back. My heart was racing, my body unstable – I needed to get out. I shoved drunken bodies violently out of my way in an attempt to escape faster, nearly at a run by the time I reached the bar. As I passed it a large hand grabbed my forearm and spun me around; Cooper looked confused and irritated.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asked with an undertone of attitude.

“Home, where I should’ve gone in the first place,” I yelled. He said nothing but didn’t let go of me. He pulled me towards him to say something and I totally lost it. Snatching my arm out of his grip, I stumbled back a few steps. “I’m out!” I screamed, and bolted for the front door.

My behavior garnered more than a few looks as I neared the exit, but I didn’t care; I needed air. I blew through the door almost knocking over an underage girl being accosted by security for trying to enter with a fake ID.

“Sorry,” I said, glancing back to see if she was okay as I continued towards the parking lot.

I turned my attention to where I was going as I neared the street when once again, a large hand reached out and grabbed my forearm, squeezing as though he would crush it when he spun me around. This time I didn’t see Cooper at all. Instead, I saw a six-foot-plus monster of a man looking down at me in a none too friendly way.

“Did he say you could leave?” he asked harshly.

What the crap?

“I know there’s permission needed to enter, but I was unaware that I needed it to exit,” I said sarcastically as some delightfully wasted Vain enthusiasts stumbled past us without any harassment. “I didn’t see them ask you to leave. Wanna let go now?”

He squeezed my arm tighter (though I didn’t think it was possible), and leaned in closer to me. As he did I realized that I knew him; he was PC. His hair looked different, but I’d definitely seen him before.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said through gritted teeth.

I was getting pissed off and my arm felt like it had a blood pressure cuff left on for way too long. Sarcasm wasn’t working well for me, so I switched tactics and tried bitchy because it always served me well in the past.

“Wish I could say the same for your balls,” I said, leaning in to him. “They’re about to be up under your chin if you don’t let me go.”

Suck on that, Douchebag.

As we eyed each other up, a familiar voice came from behind him.

“Let her go, Jer,” Sean said calmly.

Nothing happened. Sean came up beside Jer, getting right in his face.

“Let. Her. Go,” he said, staring the other man down.

My throbbing arm was released, but not without a little parting shove to knock me off balance and make me trip over the velvet rope, landing square on my ass.

Fucker.

I got up and saw the two men in a quiet but heated conversation. I rubbed my arm repeatedly trying to force the blood more evenly through it. It was already bruising. I should have just walked away, but I couldn't let it go; I was pissed and someone was going to feel the backlash.

It looked like Jer drew the short straw on that one.

“So tell me, Jer, do I have a fucking sign on my arm that says 'grab here and attempt to break'?” I sneered.

“Ruby, let's just—”

“Can it, Sean. This asshole nearly tore my arm off!” I screeched, pointing at Jer.

Sean pressed his lips tightly together and took a deep breath.

“I know he did. That will be dealt with later,” Sean said as he cast an ominous glance Jer's way. By the look of it, poor old Jer wasn't going to enjoy that much.

“Fine,” I said, and turned to cross the street.

I immediately felt Sean's hand on my lower back ushering me to the parking lot.

“Don't touch me!” I screamed as I batted his hand away from me. He said nothing, but shadowed me to my car.

I muttered under my breath about the pain in my arm and the bruise-the-size-of-Texas I was going to have. I was so frustrated and angry that I could barely stand to be in my own skin. I wanted to claw somebody's eyes out or beat them with a baseball bat, neither of which seemed feasible at the time. The only outlet left for my emotions was crying, which I loathed because of the implied weakness it showed, but I had no choice.

“Why did you lie to me?” Sean asked, not realizing the shitstorm he was about to stir up.

“Because I can,” I snipped. I was crying hard and there was no more hiding the fact as my voice cracked while I yelled, so I turned to face him.

“That's mature, Ruby,” he replied.

“And you would know so much about that, wouldn't you?” I said, laying the sarcasm on thick.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, trying desperately to see where all this was coming from.

Like you don't know.

“You seem awfully fond of questions at the moment, so answer me this: why are you here?” I asked, hands on my hips, blocking his path.

“Jer called me when he saw you head into the bar. I'd put out the word that you'd ditched me and to call if you showed up anywhere,” he answered.

“No, Sean, not why are you here?” I said, indicating the parking lot. “Why are you back?”

“I told you,” he said with a shrug. “I need to talk to you.”

“Why? Why do you suddenly need to speak to me so badly after months of nothing – no phone calls, no texts, no emails – nothing?” I asked, sounding as wounded as I felt.

“I want to explain things,” he said, looking desperate. I only scoffed in response. “Listen, I know things left on a weird note, but—” he said as I cut him off.

“You know nothing!” I shouted, turning to escape to my car. He snatched my ever-bruising arm to stop me. I winced in pain. “You left on a weird note? You left a clusterfuck, Sean. That's what you left.”