Chapter 25

Melissa

Because the of the high school's big win, the whole town was out and ready to party, which meant the Alibi's atmosphere was charged like an electric eel. It was just another one of the things I hated about small towns. None of these people gave a crap about the kids on the field, they just didn't have anything better to do with their time, and they wanted an excuse to drink. I supposed it wasn't hurting anybody and made the whole idea of living somewhere so small more bearable, but it frustrated me all the same. Nobody cared that there were more exciting things out there in the world. Nobody even thought to look. All this made some people happy, but it wasn't even close to being enough for me.

I was happy when Jack came in for some food, even if he did seem a little troubled. He was trying to put on a front, I just wasn't sure to what end. Was he just stressed? Tired? Or was there something else going on?

He left without mentioning what had him so upset, and I didn't have time to ask, so I figured we would talk about it later. I spent most of my shift run off my feet with drink orders, and only finally got a chance to slow down in the last hour or so. Once I reached a point where everyone's drinks were full, and nobody was waving me down, I indulged in a little relaxation activity.

That's what drawing had always been for me. It was a way for me to figure out the world around me like I was etching my thoughts onto the paper. It was the best way for me to unwind too, which was probably why I'd gotten so good at it over the years. Not that I was a professional, by any means.

I had to admit that Jack's little plan worked. I was finally becoming comfortable with the idea of being an artist, and it felt good. Painting had become my new obsession, and I'd used up nearly all of Jack's gift.

I didn't have my sketchbook with me, so I just grabbed a pen and a cocktail napkin to doodle on. It started out as just a few chaotic lines, but I layered stroke after stroke until Jack's handsome face became recognizable.

Around then was when Donnie and his three musketeers walked through the door.

It was normal for him to come into the bar so late, and at first, I didn't even glance up. I'd gotten used to Donnie's presence when I was working. So far we'd barely spoken, save to exchange a few barbed comments here and there when he thought nobody else could hear him. I even thought that we might be able to spend the rest of my time here in peace.

Then Donnie sauntered up to the bar with the sneer that he always wore when he saw me drawing. It churned up all the old feelings that I'd been doing a piss poor job of sorting through on my own. Talking things out with Jack had helped, but Jack wasn't here now. Anxiety clawed up my throat. My hand longed to cover the drawing, but I refused to appear embarrassed by something that mattered so much to me. Not anymore.

"You know the great thing about drawing on cocktail napkins?" Donnie asked.

His friends flanked him, waiting eagerly to hear my response.

"Hello boys," I greeted with false enthusiasm. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"The great thing about drawing on cocktail napkins," Donnie continued, even though I didn't want to hear it, "is that you can still use them afterward."

He snatched the napkin up before I could do anything and blew his nose, loudly and dramatically, before scrunching it into a ball and tossing it onto the bar top.

I glowered at him but was mindful not to react. He wanted me to freak out. He wanted to push me. I would not do what he wanted.

"Can I get you guys a drink?" I repeated coldly.

"You know who probably really needs a drink right now?" Donnie asked, looking each way at his friends. He turned back to me. "What's that loser you're dating named again? Zach?"

I gritted my teeth but didn't answer.

Donnie barreled on. "I'm surprised he's not in here tonight. Say, how many beers does it take to forget that you're a loser who can't even keep a construction job?"

What the hell was Donnie talking about? I was torn between wanting to ask him and wanting to tell him to get the hell out. In the end, I chose the more diplomatic, third option.

"Can I get you guys a drink?"

Donnie must have caught the flicker of surprise on my face. His expression soon molded into one of pure glee. "Oh, you don't know, do you?" he taunted.

The bait finally worked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"That backwoods hick you're dating just got fired, big time." He flashed his teeth in a wide grin, one that made my stomach turn. "I knew he was no good from the second he first walked through that door. No good, slimy son of a bitch."

His friends laughed, all agreeing with him and egging him on.

"I bet it's not going to be long before you come crawling back," Donnie jeered. "Not that I'll want that pussy of yours now that it's all gross and diseased. Seriously, you should think about getting a rabies shot. I bet you're not the only animal he's been fucking."

I lost it.

I. Lost. It.

My vision bled red, and my hands started to shake. All I could hear was the thudding of my blood in my veins and the choppy breaths I managed to suck into my lungs. The next thing I knew I was grabbing the mostly full beer of the guy down the bar and dumping it over Donnie's head.

It was one of the most satisfying things I had ever done or would ever do in my life, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea. Donnie started sputtering and screaming bloody murder. His friends didn’t know what to do, and watching them flit around Donnie anxiously while he shouted, shaking beer from his hair with every turn of his head, was the best part of the whole thing. It was like they were of a hive mind and I’d just shorted out their leader.

Hank, drawn by the commotion, came storming onto the floor. He took one look at Donnie and the satisfied expression on my face and pointed to the door.

“I told you, Melissa! No drama! You’re fired!”

It was quiet in the bar by this point, but those around who’d witnessed the debacle started rising to my defense.

“You didn’t hear the shit he was saying to her, Hank!” a woman called.

“You can’t fire Melissa!” a man chimed in, while the rest of his group hollered their support.

I was touched that so many people were ready to bite the bullet for me, especially against two Beringers. I wanted to jump on top of the bar and start making bows, but that would have only made Hank angrier.

He stomped over to me and shook his head. “Sorry, Mel. I told you.”

Donnie snarled, “Want me to drag her out?”

“That won’t be necessary.” There was sadness in Hank’s eyes now, and I wondered how much he wished he was kicking Donnie out instead of me. We’d been working together a long time and, while things had always stayed professional (or as professional as things could be in a dive bar), I liked to think the old man had a soft spot for me.

Soft spot or no, he was still making a godawful mistake. Donnie deserved everything I’d done to him and more, but since nobody ever stood up to him in this godforsaken town, I got to play the whipping boy. And I was pissed.

“Fucking Beringers,” I spat, slapping my bar towel down onto the counter. “You can all go fuck yourselves! Or each other, for all I care. I don’t know what kind of weird shit your fucked up egotistical family is into, but I’m better off without you.”

With that, I threw my middle fingers into the air and stormed out the door.

The adrenaline and rage coursing through me were powerful enough to numb my panic, but not for long. I made it out the door and to my car before I realized the full extent of tonight's misfortune. Unless Donnie was just trying to mess with me, Jack got fired today. I also just got fired. We'd been saving as much as we could but neither of us were making great money, and we certainly didn't have enough to leave town and start somewhere new.

By the time I got back to the hotel, the panic had crystallized, and it was with a stomach heavy with dread that I stepped through the door to what had become our little home. Our little hideaway from the rest of this godawful town and all the people determined to bring us down in it.

"Hey," Jack said, rising from the couch when he saw me. His thick brows were drawn down in either concern or stress. I figured it wasn't concern since he probably didn't know I'd been fired.

"You got fired?" I asked, letting the door slide closed behind me.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and walked toward me. "I was going to tell you as soon as you got home," he said. "I swear I wasn't trying to keep it from you. I just didn't want to stress you out at work."

I sighed and walked over to the bed, tossing myself onto it and lying limp. "I'm not mad," I said. "I can't be. I got fired too."

"What?" His tone contained a level of urgency that I was much too tired for, and he was only going to get angrier when he found out why I was jobless. I just hoped that when he did I'd be able to keep him from storming off into the night seeking justice.

I patted the bed beside me. I needed to feel some comfort after the day I'd had, and even though we were both stressed and on edge, I knew that comfort was one thing I could always count on from Jack.

He lowered himself onto the bed and pulled me into in his arms, my face resting on his chest. I listened to his heartbeat for a while, enjoying the simple silence of the moment.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" Jack asked.

I told him everything, leaving out only some of the more specific insults Donnie had hurled at me. I felt him tense up more and more with every word, and I started rubbing his arms, his back, anywhere I could reach just to try to get him to relax a little bit.

"What about you?" I asked.

Jack was quiet, jaw tight. Finally, he said, "More or less the same thing, I guess. Donnie was an asshole, and I suffered for it. He's the one who's been vandalizing the site and Neil had to let me go to save his skin."

"That's a bit harsh."

He grunted. "I don't blame him. Donnie's vendetta was expensive from the other side."

It wasn't fair. None of this was. The fact that Donnie was still getting to dictate my life, even though we were so over it wasn't funny, made me mad as hell. But what could I do? I couldn't retaliate, not the way I wanted to.

"What are we going to do?" I let the question hang in the air, unsure of whether I expected Jack to respond or not.

"I uh, I got an offer tonight," he murmured. "One fight, win or lose the take is four grand."

I shuffled around in his arms until we were face to face, until I could gaze into the limitless depths of his eyes.

"What did you say?" I asked.

I was trying to be calm, even though it would kill me to hear that he'd already accepted the offer. I could still talk him out of it, but I liked to think he would consider me a little in his day to day decisions.

Jack held my gaze but chewed on the inside of his lip. "I'm considering it. I wish I wasn't, but I am. If I do it, we can finally get out of here, take the four grand plus the little extra we've got and go from there. We wouldn't have to ever hear the name Donnie Beringer again."

I had to admit it sounded tempting. If it were anything other than Jack's health and safety on the line, I would have jumped at the chance to leave now. The thought of anything happening to Jack, however, overwhelmed any and every impulse to take the money.

"There's no future for us if something happens to you," I replied. "Four grand is a lot of money, sure, but I've seen the aftermath of one of these fights. It could be so much worse than that. Plus, there's no saying that one hit in the wrong place isn't going to do irreversible damage. It's too dangerous. I can't risk it. I won't. Please don't do the fight."

He looked at my face, like he was taking it in for the last time, eyes, cheeks, nose. His tender expression was so out of place amongst all the tattoos and muscles, like a daisy among thorn bushes, but it was uniquely Jack. It was an expression reserved for the people he cared about, and I loved that.

I loved him.

The thought popped up from the depths of my mind, where it had obviously been forming for some time now. No wonder I was so frantic not to see him harmed. No wonder it hurt me so much to know that this whole town wanted us apart.

"I won’t do it," he said. "I only wanted to hear what you thought, but I’m not gonna do anything that will upset you." He leaned in for a kiss, feathering his lips against mine.

I sighed and pressed in close to him. He was so hot, feverish almost, and his body was so hard. He tasted like heaven, and I drank deep, letting him pull me so close I wondered how we'd ever peel ourselves apart.

"I love you," I murmured into his lips.

Jack stopped, pulling back enough to look me in the eye. His mouth curved into a half smile that took my breath away.

"I love you too," he said. "So much that it fucking hurts."

When he kissed me again, he kissed me hard.