Chapter 39

Chloe's Point of View

Jenkins’s friends were a lot like him. They either went to the gym or were trained by Jenkins. I was drinking with some of the best fighters in town and man, could they drink.

"Come on, Marshall, keep up." Jenkins whacked me on the back then his hand lingered on my bare back before it ran down the length of my spine. I should be feeling unsettled. I should be feeling nervous being touched by another man but I wasn't. Jenkins and I were friends. I knew he wouldn't hurt me. I trusted him and he was the only second man I ever trusted.

"You guys are insane," I yelled over the music, throwing back a shot.

Cameron, one of Jenkins’s friends, was staring at me across the small table. I had met him before at the gym. What was it with men acting weird around me tonight? Even Jenkins looked at me weird when he picked me up as if I was a completely different person and he was seeing me for the first time.

I also noticed he wasn't letting me out of arm’s reach, insisting on coming to the bar with me. I was more than capable of getting my own drinks. When he wasn't walking me through the thick crowd of people to the bar, he was getting the drinks for us.

I should be impressed with how much of a gentleman he was being. I should be turning into liquid around a man like him but I wasn't because the only man I wanted wasn't even in the state.

I reached for another shot. Drowning my sorrows was a better option than facing them.

"You wanna dance?" Jenkins’s hand was still on my back.

I knew I had had a lot to drink. I was slightly unsteady. My words were coming out somewhat slurred. I had had that much to drink that my anxiety of being in the crowd was gone. I wasn't nervous about the possible chance of dancing and I didn't care if I would be brushing up against other people.

Yep. The liquor had taken the edge off. Jenkins’s hand was still on my back, and I reached for another shot and threw it down. I didn't care if I was ending tonight spewing in the brushes. I was having a night away from my life and I was having a night off from my depressive life from being the girl hung up on a guy that had moved on and the last thing on his mind would be her.

Yep. Night of freedom.

I gripped Jenkins’s free hand and nodded my head. Jenkins and I were just friends, although him and Oliver were nothing alike. Jenkins still reminded me of him. I guess I felt the same towards Jenkins as I did Oliver. Friends. Someone you could trust and you knew weren't going to hurt you.

We moved onto the dance floor, and I had had that much to drink I swore I saw Oliver in the corner. I guess I had been thinking of him. Makes sense to think I've seen him when he was on my mind.

"Have I told you how hot you look tonight?" Jenkins yelled in my ear as the music pounded through us. We had come to a stop in the middle of the dance floor, and his hands were running down my sides.

I shook my head, smiling at him, gripping his shoulder. I went up on my tippy toes to yell in his ear. "You haven't and thank you."

"Every guy in here is staring at you."

"Even you?" I wrapped my arms around his neck, and the music flowed through my body as we moved to it.

"Especially me." His grip on my hips tightened. "Someone has to keep you safe."

"From what?" I couldn't think of anything I needed protection from.

"From you ending up in one of these dude’s beds." He pulled me against his chest. "Friends don't let other friends sleep with men drunk."

"I'm not that drunk!"

"I'm holding you up." He looked at me, amused. I ran a hand down his toned arm. I hated to admit it, but he was holding me up. We were so close I could feel his heart beating, his hands tightening on my hips, pulling me even closer. I saw it in his eyes before he did it. I could see the desire, I could see the passion and I could also see he was intoxicated and was about to cross a line I wasn't ready to cross.

"I have to go to the bathroom." I quickly let go of him and sped-walked off through the crowd, leaving him in the middle of the dance floor.

I might have been drunk, but I managed to head to the back exit. I didn't take a breath until I took a step outside. The warm air swept around me and the door swung shut as I leaned up against a brick wall.

I slowly turned around, keeping one hand on the wall. I had avoided the kiss. There was only one man I wanted to kiss, and it wasn't him. What was I thinking that I could just be friends with a guy?

Then I was filled with thoughts of Chase.

What was he doing right now? Was he okay? Did he still think about me? Was I ever on his mind? I clenched my eyes shut and heard the door open behind me. I was unsteady on my feet. Just as the ground was coming at me, arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back up.

There was something familiar about the feel of those arms, like I had been in them before. My eyes stayed shut as I attempted to regain my balance.

"Thanks," I muttered and reached out for the wall. My hand ran down it, and the man helped me ease my way until my bum was on the floor of the alley. His arms left me. I opened my eyes and heard the door open again. I glanced over my shoulder. He was gone.

Most guys would have taken advantage of a situation like this. I was alone in an alley. Yep. Things could have worked out differently.

I looked up the alley and noticed two men, one standing on each side of the alley like they were guarding something. Whatever. As long as they didn't come this way, I was safe.

I pulled my phone out of my bra. I knew his number by heart even though I hadn't dialed it. How many times had I typed it in though? So tempted to just press dial. Every time I looked at my phone, my fingers ran over the numbers, and it was my brain forcing me not to dial.

But right now my brain wasn't telling me not to. Instead, it was coming up with reasons why I should. For the first time ever, my brain was backing up my heart.

I wanted Chase.

I needed Chase.

I ran a hand through my hair. I was desperate to hear his voice.

So do I do it? Do I call him? Do I just swallow my pride and do it? I unlocked my phone. My fingers dashed across the screen and his number was there.

Chase.

It was after three in the morning. Would I wake him? Would that be okay? Would he answer? He didn't even know my number. He might not answer. Who answers random numbers anyway? Was there even a point?

Screw it. I didn't care anymore. I was desperate so I pressed dial and put it up to my ear.

Chase's Point of View

"What do you mean she's passed out in the alley?" I shouted into the phone.

"She's not passed out, she’s just taking a breather." Marc answered me. "I helped her sit down, Archie and Declan are guarding the entrance of the alleyway, and I've got the back door covered. Oliver is watching Jenkins. I'm telling you, everything is okay."

Nothing was okay. Everything was screwed up. I should be there. I should have ripped Jenkins’s hands off her. Chloe looked incredible tonight, and any man with eyes would have seen that. No wonder Jenkins made a move.

"What's she doing?" I ran a hand through my hair, feeling exhausted and on edge at the same time.

"I don't know, I'm inside. Look, Chase, she’s drunk and I think on the way to passing out. Give her another twenty and we will be taking her to a hotel room to sleep it off."

I hung up.

Chloe was in an alley. By herself. Did she not read the headlines? Did she have no idea she was a waiting rape case?

Thank Christ the boys were there. What the hell was she thinking?

I put my phone, cigarettes, and keys on the table and took a steady breath in. She was okay. She might be drunk, but things could be worse. She could have let him kiss her and she could have kissed him back. Hell, they could be doing a lot more than just kissing.

My phone rang on the table. I reached for it. Maybe Chloe had passed out already? Picking up my phone, I glanced at the caller ID and was about to answer it, then I did a double take. I knew that number. I knew it by heart. I didn't need caller ID to be told it was her.

She was in an alleyway, on her one night of freedom, with every man wanting her attention, and she was calling me?

She was thinking about me. Right now.

I was half drunk. I might say something stupid, like how much I missed her. How much I was willing to do to get her back. How much I WAS doing to keep her safe and get her back.

But what if I didn't answer? She might go back into that club and kiss another guy.

So I went against my better judgment and how I should ignore the call in case it was traced. Instead, I answered.