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Riley

A fter a long, hard week of coaching, it was time to kick back and relax with my friends. We were a small, tight-knit bunch of women who had grown up together in Griffinsford. These three women were like sisters to me. Spending time with them was absolutely glorious, the highlight of my week for sure.

I felt light and happy as I walked into Neon Vibes, where the music was always thumping, and the dance floor was always full. When I caught sight of my friends, they motioned for me to come to their table.

When I dropped down into the one remaining empty chair at the table, Dae gestured at the bright fuchsia mixed drink sitting on the table in front of me. “I took the liberty of ordering your first drink of the night. You can thank me later.”

“It’s tonight’s special, right?”

She grinned at me, answering, “Of course it is. You always start with the nightly special, so it seems the obvious choice.”

“Then I’ll go ahead and thank you now,” I said before taking a sip of the cloyingly sweet mango-flavored drink. “Wow, it has a kick.”

They all smiled at me indulgently. My friends liked what they liked. Dae had a large, chilled glass of soju. She was Korean, and that was the only alcohol she liked. Hana loved her amaretto. And Maritza only drank cosmos. We were nothing if not predictable.

Dae asked Hana, “How’s that new dating app working out for you? If it’s making good matches, I might decide to try it myself.”

Hana took another drink of her amaretto and thought it over for a minute. Her face was all scrunched up in a pensive expression. Finally, she admitted, “The verdict’s still out on that one. My first match showed up at the restaurant drunk, and my second match spent the better part of our date talking about how crazy his ex was.”

Dae shot me a meaningful look. “As a life coach, what do you have to say about men who call their exes crazy?”

I swirled my drink around the glass and took another sip before answering. “Sounds to me like they aren’t emotionally mature enough to take their share of responsibility for the relationship breaking down.”

Dae propped her chin onto her upturned hand and gazed at me. “You sound like a woman with a short list of things in your head that are red flags when it comes to men.”

I nodded and set my drink down on the table. Leaning forward, I told them conspiratorially, “You’re not wrong, though I don’t know if the list is that short. First up, men who make and break dates, particularly when you’ve only just met. It means they aren’t prioritizing time with you, they’re disorganized, or their life is too unstable to be able to plan events in advance.”

Hana interjected, “Or they could already be involved in a relationship, and you get deprioritized in favor of their actual partner.”

“Yes. That’s a possibility as well,” I told her. “Talking about exes, particularly in a negative way, sets off my Spidey senses, but words like crazy, unhinged, and things like that are a red flag.”

Maritza, the one in our group who always got the most male attention, asked, “What about the ones who want to hook up on the first date?”

My eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, that’s a definite red flag. And I consider it risky behavior. You don’t know a thing about someone you met off a dating app. Being alone with them is risky enough but being alone and vulnerable with a virtual stranger doesn’t even begin to make sense in my world.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Killjoy. You really know how to suck all the fun out of stranger sex.”

I gave her a serious look. “If you wanted to have wild and crazy sex with strangers, I’d be the last person to judge. I’d just encourage you to be safe by at least shooting us a group text about who you’re meeting up with, where you’re going, and whether you’re going to his place or yours. That way, if anything goes wrong, we’d at least know where to pick up your trail.”

Maritza froze with her drink in the air. “Wow, you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, Ritz. When it comes to the safety of the people I care about, I’m always serious.”

Hana spoke up. “I don’t know how dangerous the men in Griffinsford are, but at the end of the day, I think it makes sense to be as safe as possible when hooking up.”

Dae looked from one to the other of us and then suggested, “I say we make a pact. From now on, we shoot each other texts in the group chat like Riley said. It only takes a minute and might save our lives one day.”

Maritza lifted her glass. “Okay, I’m all in. Let’s seal the pact with a toast.” Turning to me, she said, “That goes for you too, Riley. I expect to get a text when you decide to throw caution to the wind and hook up with a sexy stranger too.”

I held up my glass, and as the others brought theirs up to clink against mine, I said, “To safety and women looking out for women.”

Hana murmured, “I’ll drink to that,” and took a long drink of her amaretto. She then prodded me for more red flags.

“Well, a big one for me is men who say they’re just a straight shooter or tell the unvarnished truth.”

Dae, who had clearly had enough rice wine to make her more animated, laughed. “Everyone knows that’s just a secret code for someone who’s an asshole who likes to antagonize other people.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience, my friend.” We both knew she was. Her ex used to say obnoxious things constantly. That guy was good at putting his foot in his mouth.

She drained her wine glass and motioned to the bartender for another round. Giving me an embarrassed glance, she said, “You know how Rex was. Of course, I knew that from experience.”

Maritza whispered, “Don’t look now, but we’re getting sized up by a group of bad boys on the other side of the dance floor.”

Bad boys were my kryptonite. They made me weak at the knees. I turned to look and damn, they were all tatted-up bikers and smoking hot. The waitress dropped off our drinks, and we sipped and talked, wondering if the hunks were going to come over to our table or not.

Maritza leaned forward, “There are five of them and four of us.”

Now, I knew that wasn’t just some idle comment on her part. “What are you saying, girl?”

She grinned unrepentantly, “It means I get two.”

Everyone laughed, and when she added, “And I get first pick,”

I took a big gulp of my drink before pointing out the obvious. “You can try your best to pick, but my best guess is they’re too dominant to allow that. I’ll bet my bottom dollar they’ve already decided who they’re going to approach.”

Dae asked, “So, what’s your advice about tonight, life coach? Are we just going to sit here passively and let them make all the decisions, or are we going to take control of our own destiny?”

Downing the rest of my drink, I thunked the glass down on the table. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, a wild thought jumped into my head. “I say we put on our big girl panties, go out onto the dance floor, and shake our asses hard enough to attract every single guy in the bar. Then we pick the one we like best and party the night away.”

My friends downed their drinks and followed me out to the dance floor. We wove our way through the throng of people, emboldened by liquid courage and ready to make a night of it.

We were having the time of our lives when I ran right into a wall of muscle on my way to the restroom. Unfortunately, it wasn’t one of the hot, sexy bikers. It was Detective Aaron Slater, an off-duty police officer who had been annoying the crap out of me for several months.

At first, I hadn’t realized what was going on because we had only crossed paths about once a week. But once he started asking me out, cornering me whenever he could, and talking at length about what a good fit we would be, I realized he was staying in my orbit intentionally. No matter how many times I declined, he just kept circling around to take another shot. He flat-out refused to take no for an answer.

I immediately stepped back. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

His lips turned up into a smirk. “I think you just want to get into my personal space, Miss Riley. If you want a hug, all you have to do is ask.”

Judging by his swagger, too-loud voice, and the slight slurring of his speech, he’d been drinking that night. I’d never bumped into him out of uniform, much less intoxicated. This didn’t bode well for another round of whatever it was he was trying to pull with me.

He reached out and grabbed my arm. “Let’s dance.”

I resisted, trying to pull out of his grasp without being obvious about it. “I was just on my way to the restroom.”

“That can wait,” he said arrogantly. “Just one dance. Surely that’s not too much to ask?”

Putting on my big girl panties, just like I always told my clients to do, I put my hands on my hips and said firmly, “No, thank you. I really need to go to the restroom.”

Dodging around him, I continued on my way without giving him an opportunity to respond. There was something about that man that I just didn’t like. My instincts about other people were usually spot on, and my gut was telling me to avoid this guy like the plague.

Still, I knew from previous interactions that Slater was prideful. Turning him down needed to be done with tact and sensitivity. The last thing I needed was to make an enemy of an officer of the law. And bruising his ego while he was drunk could have gone very badly for me, especially if I accidentally humiliated him in front of others.

I sat on the toilet and tried to process the whole situation in my head. My big fear was that if I gave him that one dance, it would be game on. He’d take that to mean that if he caught me off guard and pushed me enough, I’d cave in to his wishes. I didn’t want to do anything that might encourage his advances. This was a classic no-win scenario where I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.

I finished my business and began washing my hands at the sink. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to brainstorm a way to slip his grasp without offending him. The lesser of two evils was to give him his damn dance and then leave. I hated everything about this man spoiling my girls’ night out. I dried my hands and slowly walked back towards the dance floor. I could see my friends all dancing together, and I wanted to be with them.

Unfortunately, I saw Slater leaning with one shoulder against the wall. He was standing between me and my friends and had an irritated look on his face. “You ready for that dance now?”

I forced myself to give him a tight smile. “Yes, of course. But just one friendly dance. It’s girls’ night out, and I don’t want my friends to think I ditched them for a man.”

It was clear this man didn’t care about anything I had to say except hearing me say yes to dancing with him. The thought of him having his hands on me made my skin crawl. But I bit the bullet and let him lead me out onto the dance floor.

Once we were in the throng of dancers, the fast song ended, and a slow one began. He gleefully put his hands on my waist and pulled me closer until my breasts brushed against his chest. I glanced away, feeling uncomfortable and angry.

I put my hands on his shoulders and stiffened my body to put a little space between us.

“What’s with all the tension? Relax, baby,” he whispered breathlessly, his breath laced with whiskey.

I pushed back a little more, just enough to keep our bodies from touching. “I just need a respectable distance between us.”

“No,” he said harshly. “What you need is to fucking lighten up.” His fingers dug painfully into my waist for a second. Then one hand drifted down to rest against my ass.

My annoyance got the better of me. So, I jerked his hand back up to my waist. “No shenanigans. Keep your hands respectable.”

He just laughed at me. “My God, could you be any more uptight?”

“I’m not usually so anxious. You’re making me very uncomfortable.”

“What? Because I asked you for a damn dance?”

“No. Because I’ve told you several times that I don’t want to start anything with you, but you just keep coming on strong.”

“That’s how it’s done. The man takes the initiative to ask a woman out. The woman plays hard to get by turning him down. Blah, blah, blah. Enough playing hard to get, babe. You got my attention, now it’s time to play for real.”

My hands dropped away, and I stepped back. “What? No. That’s not how that works. That’s not how any of this works.”

When he glanced around suspiciously, I realized I’d done exactly what I promised myself I wouldn’t do. He grabbed my arm again and pulled me closer.

“Calm the hell down, crazy pants. God knows I like my women to have a little sass, but you’re taking things way too far tonight.” He jerked me towards the door. “Come on. You’ve had enough to drink. I’m taking you home.”

I pulled out of his grasp. Lowering my voice, I told him firmly, “No way. I’m not getting in a vehicle with you. Not now. Not ever.”

His expression turned calculating, and something dangerous flickered in his eyes. When I took another step back, he grumbled, “Why are you being such a stuck up bitch? Do you think you’re too good to go home with a lawman?”

His whole train of thought was messed up. I didn’t like the way he tried to guilt-trip me.

“Look, we’ve had our dance. I’m going back to my friends, just like I told you earlier. I’m here with them and we’re leaving together.”

He reached for me again, but those bikers walked past, moving between us. One of the bikers lingered, inconspicuously gesturing for me to make a run for it. I took the opportunity this stranger was offering to look around for my friends. They were back at our table, with more drinks. I made a beeline for them. Every step I put between Slater and myself enabled me to breathe just a little bit easier.

When I claimed my seat at the table, Dae asked, “What the hell was that all about?”

“It’s Detective Slater again.”

Hana’s eyes flew open. “You’re thinking of dating a cop?”

“Hell no,” I shot back. “I’ve nothing against cops, but this one’s an asshole who refuses to take no for an answer.” I took a sip of my drink. My hands were shaking so badly, I could hardly keep from spilling it.

Dae lowered her voice. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that Detective Asshole keeps staring at you. If looks could kill, you’d be dead.”

Maritza spoke up. “We need to keep an eye on him.”

Hana and Dae agreed. Hana reached out to take the drink from my trembling hand and set it on the table in front of me. “Are you okay?” she asked as she peeled the paper off a straw and put it in my drink.

I nodded, unable to look at Slater again. “He was trying to pressure me to let him take me home.”

“Oh, hell no,” Dae said. “I’m no expert, but letting your friendly neighborhood stalker take you home when you’ve both been drinking sounds like a really bad idea.”

Glancing over at him, I assured her, “I wouldn’t let that happen, no way would I get in a car with him.”

When I locked eyes with Slater, I saw he was seething with anger that he held carefully in check. Then the cold, calculating expression returned. He pulled out his cell phone and had a short conversation with someone. I hoped he was hooking up with someone who liked him more than I did.

I realized that wasn’t his intent when a half-dozen of his buddies came pouring through the front door.

I saw red and blue lights flashing outside the glass front door. The bar was packed, and people began panicking because this was clearly a raid.

Slater looked all kinds of pleased with himself. One of his buddies yelled, “Hands up until we tell you otherwise.”

What the fuck?

I did as he said. When my hands went up, Slater started smirking all over the place. At that point, I really hated this man.

I watched as they hauled the owner of the bar out from the back. When they got him to the front door, they announced loudly, “Bruno Romano, you’re being arrested for the distribution of narcotics. That’s a Class A felony in this state.” Bruno was visibly shocked by this latest turn of events. He kept looking at Slater, like he expected him to put a stop to all this. Slater didn’t stop anything, in fact, he threw more fuel on the fire. He directed his buddies right where to go to find Bruno’s drugs.

The officer then turned to the rest of us and announced, “We’re going to perform a search of every patron in this bar, and anyone found with drugs will be charged with possession of illicit substances.”

I didn’t have drugs, nor did my friends. But I had to wonder if Slater had it in his mind to plant some on me as payback for rejecting him. I was beginning to think he was a dirty cop.

Fortunately, they didn’t get a chance to search or arrest any of us because that group of bikers we’d seen earlier had grown in numbers. Now, there were over a dozen of them, and they started turning over tables and messing the place up. One of them set off the fire alarm, and the cops were forced to let us all leave the building. Once the night air hit us in the face, my friends and I ran for our vehicles and made a clean getaway.