Vicious Circles (15 page)

Morgan?"

My skin crawled at the thought of him anywhere near Morgan. "She's not here."

His eyes danced in delight as he moved closer, a lecherous smirk on his face. "Is someone a little jealous? Huh? Does someone have a thing for little Owen?"

"I don't know who someone is but I'm guessing no," I said as I picked up my cigarette and took a drag.

He laughed as he placed a hand on my knee. "Ah, one of those hard to get chicks.

That's okay - makes everything more fun."

I smashed my cigarette in the ashtray and blew the remaining smoke in Owen's face. "Where's the ladies' room?"

Stil grinning, he pointed to the other side of the staircase. I waggled a couple fingers at him as I made my escape. I needed to regroup.

Once inside the sanctity of the ladies' room, I gripped the edges of the sink as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My dark hair was immaculate but my hazel eyes held a look of sadness. I hated that. I needed to rid my body of al self-pity.

Perhaps Owen was just the thing.

After washing my hands, I reapplied my lip gloss and reentered the bar. When I returned to my seat, Owen's glass was there but he was absent.

"Bailey."

I blinked as I met Scooter's worried eyes. He refil ed my drink, glancing to the left and right.

"Stay away from him," he whispered as he leaned over the bar. "He's bad news. He treats women like crap."

I took the fresh drink from Scooter with a smile. "Thanks, hon, but I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," he said, anxiety al over his face. "But I've seen the girls that he's brought in here and I've seen what he does to them. He destroys them, Bailey. I mean, he real y tears them up. He uses them in worse ways than you can imagine and when he gets bored with them, he just throws them away without a second thought."

Morgan flittered through my mind and I wondered, if Owen ever actual y pursued her, if she'd be smart enough to stay away from him.

"Thanks for the warning," I said. "But I have no intentions of letting that man ever do anything like that to me. I'm not the one man sort of girl."

His frowned drew deep lines in his forehead. "I don't see that. You look like a nice girl to me. That's why I don't want you getting mixed up with…

you know."

His lips tightened as he edged back, grabbing dirty glasses from the end of the bar.

Just then, Owen sat next to me again, placing a hand on the smal of my back.

"Everything okay, darling?"

"Just peachy," I said as I tossed back my drink. "How about a shot of something good?"

Owen's white teeth sparkled as he grinned wide. "That's my girl." He motioned at Scooter. "Give me a bottle of tequila and two glasses. And not the cheap stuff, either. Bring us something good."

Scooter nodded as he rushed off to do Owen's bidding. He returned a short time later, setting a bottle on the bar, pushing shot glasses in front of us both. Owen poured and then gestured for me to lift my glass. I did.

"To good times," he said.

"Good times," I repeated and then downed the shot.

"Smooth," Owen said, slamming his glass on the bar. He refil ed us immediately.

It didn't take long to get my head spinning out of control - especial y after countless shots. My wits definitely weren't about me but I knew, the longer I was around Owen, that I didn't want to use him in any way. He was just too creepy.

"Let's dance," he asked, tugging me off my barstool. I fol owed him to the floor and al owed him to pul me close. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands inching closer and closer to my hind end.

"Watch it, buddy," I tried to warn but the liquor slurred my words, making them ineffective.

"You are so hot, Bailey," he whispered, his breath warm on my cheek. "I wanted your friend, Morgan, but you are so much more woman than she could ever be."

"Nah, she's so much better than me," I said, fisting his shirt to keep from slipping out of his arms and crumbling to the dance floor. "Better."

He laughed as his hands slid further down. "I don't know about al that. Sure, those nice girls are fine, but when you want to have a good time, that's when you hook up with women like you."

My fuzzy mind wasn't sure exactly what he was saying. "What do you mean? Like…

a whore?"

His laughter increased. "Cal it what you wil , but whore is an ugly word. I prefer 'fun girls'. I think it has a nice ring."

"So, I'm a fun girl and not a nice girl?" I asked.

His smile faltered. "I'm sure you're nice, too." He nodded over my head. "How about we go upstairs and you can show me how fun and nice you are?"

"But the sign said no one can go up there," I said.

His eyes crinkled in amusement. "Everyone knows that the upstairs is for those who want to have fun. Do you want to have fun?"

"I don't think so," I said as I wriggled out of his embrace. "I think I need to go home."

He fol owed me back to the bar where I located my bag. "Oh, come on, Bailey. You know you want to go up there. Spencer told me that the two of you were never serious - that you'd go out for awhile and split up and then get back together. I know girls like you get bored. I don't mind. I'l show you a good time and then you can come back anytime you want."

I had to get out of there. His words were tearing a hole in my already fragile heart.

"Thanks, but I need to go."

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug and an angry glint in his eye. He leaned closer.

"But you'l be back. Girls like you always are." He stalked away, drink in hand, and I released a breath.

"Are you al right, Bailey?" Scooter asked.

I nodded as I retrieved my phone and keys from my bag. "Yeah. I just need to go home."

"I don't think you should drive," he said.

He was probably right. The problem was, who to cal . My two best friends hated me, Spencer would have a fit, and Col in…wel , Col in seemed to be my only bet.

With a sigh, I dialed his number.

"Bailey," Col in said. "Where are you?"

"Tail Feather Club," I slurred. "Can you come get me?"

He swore vehemently, making me wince. "I'm on my way. Stay away from Owen, do you hear me? Don't let that bastard lay a finger on you."

"Yeah, okay," I said. I hung up my phone and slumped on the bar.

"Here."

I looked up to see Scooter sliding a cup of coffee under my nose.

"Thanks, Scooter," I said as I sipped the strong brew. "You're too nice to work here."

He winked. "Did you cal someone to come get you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's on his way."

"That's good. Just sit here by me until he gets here," Scooter ordered. "I'l keep an eye on you."

I was so tired of people - especial y men- trying to take care of me. But Scooter, he was different. Sweet.

"Thanks, Scooter."

It took Col in nearly twenty minutes to get there but I stil hadn't sobered up, although Scooter kept feeding me coffee.

"Bailey," Col in sighed when he found me. He lifted a brow at Scooter. "Does she have a tab?"

"She's taken care of," Scooter said. "Just get her home safely."

"Thanks, man," Col in said as he wrapped an arm around my waist. He helped me to his SUV and buckled me in. "How are you feeling?"

"Not very wonderful," I said as I rested my cheek against the cool glass of the passenger door window. "Not very wonderful at al ."

"I'l take you to my place, okay?" he said. "I don't want to leave you alone in this condition."

"Sure," I said as I drifted on a wild sea of drowsiness. I slipped under for what seemed like seconds but the next thing I knew, Col in was shaking me gently, ordering me to wake up.

"Come on, Bailey," he said as he eased my body out of the car. "Let's get inside."

Once we stepped into the living room, my stomach rol ed and I made a mad dash to the bathroom. I heaved nothing but tequila - everything burning my throat on the way up, tears slipping from my eyes.

Once I flushed, Col in materialized. "Better?"

"Not much," I admitted. I stood on wobbly legs. "I need a shower, I think."

With a slight nod, he closed the lid of the toilet, made me sit, and left the bathroom.

He came back seconds later with two towels.

He turned on the shower, fiddling with the water until he got the temperature just right, and then turned back to me.

"Let's get you undressed."

"I like the way you think," I said, my head woozy.

"I know," he replied as he helped me up and undressed me.

He quickly shed his clothes and assisted me into the shower. Holding me up under the spray, he kissed me.

“Thanks for this,” I said. “It’s not very sobering but I’ve been fantasizing about showering with you for awhile now.” I hiccupped. “Of course in my fantasies, I wasn’t drunk and there was a lot more rubbing and suds involved.”

"Some other time, then," he said, holding me closer. "Promise."

My hands slid up his chest to connect behind his neck. I rol ed to my toes to press a kiss to his lips. "How about now?"

He kissed me back, a chaste kiss, and shook his head. "Now is not a good time."

My heart wilted. "I understand."

"No you don't," he said, giving me a squeeze. "I can see it in your face. Bailey, trust me when I say that I want you very much right now, but you're very drunk and I don't think it's a good idea. I'd rather not take advantage of you in this condition."

I tried to smile but my lips refused. Instead, a torrent of tears escaped my eyes.

"Bailey," Col in said, hugging me to his chest while rubbing my back. "Don't do that.

I promise you that some other time, we'l definitely try the shower thing. I'm not putting you off - I just don't want to do anything like that while you're drunk."

"It's not that," I muttered between sobs. "I…this is al a mess."

"It seems like that now," he soothed. "But it's al right, real y. We'l get this mess sorted."

I couldn't speak - could only sob. I was faintly aware of Col in shutting off the water and wrapping us both in towels. He led me to his bedroom where he dressed me in one of his t-shirts before tucking me in his bed.

My tears began to subside as he crawled in beside me. I burrowed into his side.

"Bailey, please don't cry," he said.

"Sorry," I muttered.

He stroked my hair as I tried to compose myself. "What's with the tears?"

I shook my head. "I'm not a whore, Col in."

"Of course not," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of my head. "I know you're not.

Al of your friends know you're not, too."

"I think deep down my friends do think that," I said. "I think deep down everyone thinks that there's not much Bailey wouldn't do."

He held me tighter, pressing my ear against his chest. I could make out every beat of his heart. "I don't believe that, Bailey. I don't think you're like that at al . I think there's a lot of fire inside of you, but I don't think you spread that fire out."

I had to chuckle at that. It was cute. And sort of sweet.

"Thank you, Col in."

"You bet," he said, kissing the top of my head again. "You need to get some sleep."

My eyes fluttered shut as my muscles started to relax. Col in's arms loosened but didn't drop away from me.

"I want people to know the truth," I mumbled.

"The people who are closest to you don't need to know the truth," he said. "We know the real Bailey and we like her just the way she is."

In the dark, I smiled as I drifted away in an alcohol induced slumber.

Chapter Twelve

Consciousness threatened to expose my very nauseous body to supreme torture. I grabbed a pil ow and held it over my head to soften the blows that were hammering away inside it. I didn’t know why I always thought drinking excessively would solve my problems – al it ever did was get me into more trouble and make me horribly il the next day. Too bad I always forgot that important lesson when I hit the bars.

What an idiot.

The previous evening rol ed through my head like some stupid movie stuck on repeat. Another thing about my drinking binges was that I always remembered everything. That came in handy most times – but other times, not so much.

I remembered the shower with Col in and my heart leapt. I also remembered trying to seduce him but he'd turned me down. I hoped he hadn’t been lying when he'd said it was due to the fact that I was total y shit-faced.

There was no getting around the headache so I decided to just get up and deal with it. Hopeful y it would fade to a subtle throb if I got up and moved around a bit. I tossed the blankets back and stumbled to the bathroom.

I balked at my reflection and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why Col in had chosen to not stay in bed with me. My hair was wild and tangled and just a mess. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy and my face splotchy. I didn’t even want to think about my breath – I could taste it and that was nasty enough.

I turned on the taps, washed my face, and then dug a comb out of one of the vanity drawers. I had no clue where my clothes were – they were no longer on the bathroom floor. With a shrug, I exited the bathroom through the door that led to the spare bedroom and tiptoed through the living room.

I stopped cold when I heard Col in’s voice.

“..quit making excuses, Tori,” he said, frustrated.

“I’m not,” Tori whined. “Not at al . It’s just that…wel , geez Col in. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Wel I do,” he said firmly. “I want to know what the deal is.” I plastered my back against the wal , hating that I was eavesdropping but unable to stop. It was morbid curiosity – kind of like a car wreck; you didn’t want to look but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Why is Bailey here, huh?” she demanded. “What’s going on there?”

“I told you,” he groaned. “She needed me last night and I brought her back here to take care of her.”

“And yet you claim there’s nothing going on there. That’s the pot cal ing the kettle black.”

“When you’re done with the cliché sayings, can we get back to our discussion?” he asked.