Escaping Me (15 page)

“Don't even go there, Wes.”  Bringing up my dad may have shut Mallory up, but it isn’t going to work on me.  As I am explaining to him why my father has no say in who I date either, I see Cole emerge from the Picnic.  When I first see him coming down the sidewalk across the street, I assume he is coming to rescue me.   Then I see the bartender from Pauly's come bouncing up beside him and wrap her arms around his neck.  He never even sees me standing there with Wesley as he bounds up the steps of one of the houses and through the front door with her.  I feel sick to my stomach. 
What is he doing with her? 

“
Can I take you home?” Wesley asks, surely fighting back some smart-ass comment about Cole.  All I can do is nod my head because I know if I open my mouth to speak the tears will break loose from my eyes.

Chapter 18
–
Cole

Against my nature, I stay put as she walks away with that douche nozzle.  I don't know why I am so surprised that she left with him.  I knew eventually she'd go back to where she came from and who she was.  Wes was right—I don’t really know her.  He is a grade-A asshole, from the way he walks to the way he is dressed, but he is the kind of guy Whitney is going to end up with.  I'm sure he is studying to become a lawyer or doctor or some other profession that would allow him the ability to provide her with a life much better than being the girlfriend of some river rat like me.

“I really fucking hate that guy.” Mallory pushes her shoulder up against mine.  “You should have beat his ass.”  I don’t move.  I just stand there staring as Whitney and Wes disappear from view. 

“
Here.” Zeke arrives, handing me and Mallory each a beer.  “I think we could all use a drink after that.”  I take the bottle from his hand and down half of it as I try to sort out what my next move will be.

“
She's coming back, you know?”  Mallory says.  “She's probably shoving him in his car as we speak.”

“
I doubt it.”  I gulp the last drink from my bottle and walk over to toss it in a garbage can.  As it clinks against the sides of the metal bin, I can relate to the feeling—being tossed aside when something better comes along.

“
Quite a little show your girl and her friend put on,” a woman's voice calls out from behind me.  I turn to find my one-time drinking buddy, Missy.

“
Yeah, it was something,” I utter, barely noticing the fact that her body is giving its own little show.  The paper-thin, white tank top and the tight jeans she is wearing have her body on full display tonight and leave little to the imagination.  Her brown hair is a wild mess of curls, but all I can do when I look at her is notice that she isn't Whitney.  “Bar closed tonight?”

“
Yep,” she nods.  “The Picnic is the one weekend off I get a year.”

“
That sucks.  I could really use something a little stronger than beer.”

“
My place is just down the street, and I've got Jack, Jim, and Johnnie.  One of them might be able to help you out.”  She smiles.

“
I don't know if that's a good idea.”  I know all eyes are still on me, waiting for some kind of reaction.  How long will it take to get back to Whitney that I left with the Missy?

“
You're call,” she shrugs as she starts to walk away.  “It's just a drink.”

She’s right.  It’s just a drink.  Besides that, I don’t think I can stand around here waiting on the possibility that Whitney may come back.  May as well give these small town assholes something to really talk about.  Five minutes has already passed and Whitney is nowhere in sight.  I'm sure by now her ex-boyfriend has convinced her to take him back with promises he'll undoubtedly break.  That's what she meant when she said she was doing me a favor, right?   Saving me the drama of our inevitable ending? 
Fucking perfect.
 

“
Which way is your place?” I ask.  She turns back with a grin and points behind me.  I start walking.  I don’t need any more drama tonight.  I just want to get drunk and forget all about Whitney Vandaveer.

“
She's not going to pick him over you,” Missy says as she catches up to me.  “She would be stupid if she did.”

I shrug.  “I'm not so sure about that.”

“Well, I am.”  She wraps her arms around my neck in a friendly gesture. “You're a catch, Pritchett.  She knows it.”

“
Why the hell is a girl like you out tonight by herself?” I chuckle.  “You’re the one that's a catch.”  It always surprises me when people are nice to me.  I am so used to having them put me down or judge me that I never really take the time to notice that there are genuinely good people in the world.

“
Let's just say the gay community isn't really booming in this Podunk town.” She laughs.

My jaw practically hits the sidewalk as she motions me toward her house.  “You're gay?”

“You're surprised?”

“
I would have never known.  You're so... girly.”

“
Well, I've got some flannel in the house I could put on, and we could listen to Melissa Etheridge if that would help clarify things,” she jokes.  “Not all lesbians are butch, genius.”

I throw my hands up to surrender.  “My bad.”  We walk through the front door of her house, and I sit down on the leather sofa in the center of the immaculately kept space she calls home.  “Nice place,” I compliment.  “All right then, my lesbian friend, how about you get me a drink and help me figure out what in the hell went wrong with my love life.”

“Coming right up!” She gives me a wink and grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels from the kitchen.  When she returns, she joins me on the sofa, and after thirty minutes of Missy boosting my ego, we've polished off the bottle.

“
She's totally into you, Cole.  I saw the way she was looking at you when you danced.  There's no way she is going back to that pretty boy.”

Maybe she is right.  Whitney made it perfectly clear that she would never take a guy who cheated on her back. 

“What the fuck was I thinking?” I stand and stumble across the floor in what I assume resembles a pace.  “Why didn't I just beat that guy's ass?”

“
You were trying to be a good guy.  You're the kind who usually kicks ass and asks questions later, right?”  I nod at her assessment.  “Seems to me like Whitney has had a positive effect on you then.  You didn't just start breaking heads—you were playing it smart.”  Her words are starting to slur. Or maybe my hearing is?  Either way, she is right.

“
Damn it!” I really want to hit something—or someone.  “I shouldn't have let her go with him.”

“
What are you going to do?” Missy asks as she curls up on her couch and her eyes start to fall shut.  The fact that she is a bartender is made perfectly clear by her inability to handle her liquor.  At least she isn’t building up her tolerance by drinking too much on the job.

“
Haven't really thought it through that far,” I answer. The effects of the alcohol in my system may be playing a big part in my decision to go find Whitney.  I kiss my new best friend on her forehead and make my way out the door.  “But I'm not going to give her up that easy.  Thanks for the drinks, pal.”

“
Good luck,” Missy mumbles as I close the door behind me.

I manage to find my way back to the Picnic and the fresh air begins to clear the drunken fog I am in.  By the time I get to the last place I saw Whitney, the crowd is gone.  The band is packing up their equipment and there are only a few drinking stragglers left.  No sign of Whitney.  I pull my phone out of my pocket.  No missed calls or texts.  God, I hope my first conclusion is correct.  Surely she hasn't gone back to the city with him.

I hold my breath when I see the feminine silhouette standing next to my truck in the moonlit parking lot.  “Whitney! Thank God!” I pick up my pace, practically running to reach her.  What I’m not expecting is the firm shove to my chest that stops my forward momentum.

“
Where in the fuck have you been?!” 
Wrong sister
.  Mallory furiously stomps toward me with her index finger pointed directly at my face.  “We've been looking everywhere for you!  Who were you with? I swear to God if you cheated on her I'm going to break your goddamn face!  She's already been through this shit once, Cole!”

“
Where is she?” I ask, not bothering to answer her interrogation.  I open the truck door, hoping she is inside.  I slam it quickly when I realize the cab is empty.

“
She's back at our house,” Mallory informs me as the red she is seeing starts to fade.  “Wes gave her ride after she saw you walking down the street with some girl.  Who was it?!”

“
Relax.”  I run around to the driver's side.  Whitney's ball buster of a little sister is hot on my trail.  “I had a few drinks with Missy from the bar.  You have nothing to worry about. I'm not Missy's type.” 

“
Ahhh.” Mallory has a tell-tell look on her face.  “No, you are not,” she confirms. 

“
You know she's gay?”  I ask confusedly.  From what Missy said, her sexual preference isn’t something she advertises.

“
I may or may not have made out with her behind the bar one night,” she confesses.  “I was really drunk.” She shrugs.

“
No judgment,” I chuckle, dropping my keys to the ground as I climb into my truck.

“
Thanks for the sentiment,” she teases as she retrieves my keys and holds them out to me.  Before I can wrap my fingers around them, she draws them back from my reach.  “You sure you're okay to drive?  Zeke's on his way over with his truck.”

“
I can't waste anymore time, Mal.  I have to see her.”

She shakes her head and reluctantly hands me the keys.  “Back roads, speed limit, seatbelt.  Got it?” She waits for me to agree to her terms before she releases her grip on the keys.

“Yes, ma'am.”

I manage to make it almost all the way to Whitney's house without breaking one promise to Mallory, but when I hit the turn for her road, I gun it, slowing down just enough to make the turn onto her lane without putting the old Ford on her side.  My tires send gravel flying as I slide to a stop in front of her house, my headlights illuminating the two figures standing together on the front porch.

“Please don't go with him, Whit!” I holler as I jump out of the truck and run up to the front steps. 

“
What are you doing here?” Wes asks as I approach them.  Whitney’s face is hidden in his shadow, but I can tell she is looking down at the ground.

“
I came here for her, asshole.” I try to sidestep him to get to her, but he blocks my advance.  “Why don't you get the hell out of my way?”

“
She doesn't want to see you,” he says callously as he crosses his arms across his chest and a cocky smirk spreads over his face.  “In fact, she was just getting ready to go get her things so I could take her back to her
home.
”

My head and shoulders fall in defeat. My only other option is to throw this punk out of my way and make good on my promise from before to kidnap her.  Missy was right though.  I don’t want to be that guy anymore.  If she chooses him, I will at least try to respect her and her decision.  Even if it is the wrong damn one. 

“That is not at all what was decided, Wesley.” Her voice cuts through to me.  I look up to see her shaking her tear-stained face at him.  “I'm not going with you.”

“
Well, you're not really going to go with this loser, are you?  I mean, seriously, Whit. He just did the same thing that you broke up with me for.  He's a cheater, too.”

“
You have no idea what you are talking about, dick.” I interject.  My spirits were definitely lifted when she declared her intentions of staying put.

“
Doesn't he?” Whitney faces me.  “I saw you go into her house.  She was hanging all over you.”

“
I swear to God, Whitney. Nothing happened.  You have to believe me.”

An uncomfortable laugh breaks from her lips.  “That's funny.  Wes used to say the same thing.”

“I'm not like him.” I take a step toward her and grab her hand in mine.  “I've never lied to you and I don't plan on starting any time soon.”  Our eyes lock together and I can see the trepidation in her eyes start to fade.  “Missy is just a friend who offered me a drink.”

“
I want to believe you, but –” Before she can finish her thought, Wesley seizes her arm and jerks her away from me.

“
This is bullshit,” he says as he drags her to the front door of the house.  “You're done acting like a spoiled brat, Whitney.  You've been making bad decisions by yourself, so maybe it's time I start making them for you.”  He opens the screen door.  “You don't belong here.  Or with him.  Your father sent me to pick you up, so go get your shit and let's go.”

“
You've got about two seconds to let go of her arm before I rip yours off,” I caution him.  I can see it in her eyes that he is holding on to her a little too tight.  My blood is boiling and I'm sure the vein on my forehead is pulsating with my quickening heartbeat.