Chapter 8

 

I went the whole week without running into Betsy again. I usually saw her a few times, at least in passing, but she must have gone a different route.

Was I being a stalker? Was this what it was like to be obsessed with someone?

No. That wasn't it. I couldn't say what was pulling me toward her. Something. Maybe it was my hero complex getting to me again.

But that didn't stop me from letting my fingers hover over her name in my contacts, until I finally got the balls to text her.

It was after a few drinks on Thirsty Thursday and I was sitting on the couch in the Common Room. Thursdays were usually pretty laid back around the house and most of the older guys went out to the bars, but I wasn't into that scene.

I stared down at my phone. I needed to stop being a pussy and just text her.

Finally I downed the rest of my drink and then hit the "send message" button.

 

Me: Hey

 

Her reply was quick. Quicker than I thought.

 

Betsy:  Hey, are you here????

 

I glanced around the room. There were a few people milling about the Common Room, some playing Madden, and another group in the kitchen. But I hadn't seen Betsy come in.

 

Me:  Where?

 

Betsy:  Gatsby's. Thought that's why you were texting me???

 

I hovered over the keys, thinking of my reply. But instead of messaging her back, I slid my phone into my pocket then tapped the new member next to me. "Hey, Marc, you still driving some guys downtown?"

 

***

 

Gatsby's was one of the main hangouts that the guys went to downtown. It was a dance club, with an entry-level that had a long bar against one wall and then a winding staircase that led to a sunken dance floor.

I leaned against the railing, scanning the crowd. I'd only been to Gatsby's a few times, usually after pre-gaming. When I was half-lit, it seemed colorful and lively, but sober, it was just a bunch of sweaty bodies grinding on each other in too small of a space.

But, amongst all the bodies, Betsy's was like a beacon that drew me to her. Her blonde hair fell in long waves down her back and every time she moved, it flowed with her body. And her little purple dress, made her stand out from the sea of other girls, in their black or dark clothes. Everything about her was stunning.

So was her smile. Until a dark figure sidled up beside her.

Rico's eyes blared into the back of her head, before his hands slithered up to her chest.

Her eyes practically popped out of her head and her mouth opened in a look that could only be described as fear. But, as quickly as it appeared on her face it left, when she turned toward him, whipping her long hair back and putting a smile.

I didn't realize I was clenching my hands into such tight fists, until I looked down at my white knuckles. There was definitely something wrong there and I couldn't ignore it.

I started down the stairs, keeping my eyes on Betsy. But, the closer I got to her, the farther away she moved. Rico was pulling her in the opposite direction. His hand firmly clamped on her wrist, while she shuffled backward.

I pushed through the crowd, spilling a few drinks, and getting a ton of dirty looks in the process, but I didn't care. I had to get to her.

It wasn't until I crossed almost the whole dance floor, that I finally got to her and Rico and heard their shouting from the corner of the room. His hand was still firmly gripped on her wrist and her eyes were watering.

"Rico, let go of me, please."

"I think it's time to go, Bets. You've had enough to drink." His voice was low, but menacing, as if he was speaking through gritted teeth.

"I'm fine. Just one more dance, then we'll go back to the house?"

"No," he said, before I heard a soft whimper escape Betsy's lips, just loud enough to make every hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

I pushed through the last of the crowd and didn't stop until I was in Rico's face. "Hey, man, what's going on?"

I put on the biggest, fakest smile I could and stood right in between him and Betsy. Rico had a few inches on me, probably more with his stupid-ass blown out hair. But I wasn't going to back down from him this time. Not when Betsy already had one injury from him.

"What up, Short Stack? Trying to get Betsy in your car again?" He smirked. Always the smug prick.

I laughed, but there was no humor to it. "Yeah, I'm hoping I don't have to take her to the ER again, that is, if you take your hands off of her."

I had no idea where my courage was coming from. It was a fight or flight situation and I was already too far in to back out.

The music was so loud, that Rico had to lean in. But his voice was still strong. Still menacing. "Look, Short Stack, I know you're trying to get some pussy right now and act like you're tough shit, but this really doesn't concern you."

"It concerned me the minute you first threw her out and then when I was the one that had to take her to the ER."

He looked over my shoulder then smirked and looked back at me. "If I'm so bad, then why ain't she leaving?"

I took a step closer, clenching and unclenching my fists. The only fights I'd ever been in were with my brothers and cousins. I always lost. But if I was going to lose, I at least wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"She's not leaving because you have some kind of control of her. She thinks that you're some kind of be-all-end-all. Probably, because you've brainwashed her and treated her like shit for so long, that she thinks she is shit, but she isn't. You're the filth that doesn't deserve her."

Rico's face went stiff and he pushed Betsy to the side, getting a little 'oomph' sound to escape her lips. "What the fuck did you just say to me, man?"

I looked over at Betsy. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm talking to you, fucker. Don't ignore me," Rico said and shoved my shoulder, so that I was forced to look in his direction.

"And I was making sure you weren't about to put her back in the hospital."

His glare was fierce. His cheekbones hollowed as his nostrils flared.

I was ready for a fight. At this point, I didn't care, but instead a gruff pair of hands came between us and then pushed against each one of our chests.

A burly man with a full beard and a barrel of a chest, with the words 'security' scrawled in white along a black shirt, stood there. "Been getting some complaints about you two. If you want to fight, that's fine. But take it outside."

Rico shrugged the guy's hand off and shook his head. "No fights, man. She ain't even worth it."

He turned and walked in the other direction and disappeared into the crowd; leaving me, the bouncer, and Betsy standing there.

The bouncer looked between Betsy and me. "You two good?"

I nodded and then Betsy said. "Yeah. We're fine."

As the bouncer walked away, I took a step toward her and then pushed a fallen curl out of her face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She bit her lip. "Yes. Just please take me home and as far away from here as possible."