Page 15

Eve

As I drive home from Everlast, I see Jason in his car behind me and can’t help but to smile.

Even though the sun is already coming up and I feel a lot safer now, he insisted that he follow me home to make sure I get in safely. I wasn’t about to argue, not after that liberating-albeit aggressive session we had in his office.

Turning off of the exit, we arrive at my house in a couple minutes, just in time for me to see a large truck parked at the end of my driveway. A group of men with power washers and God knows what else are scurrying around my driveway, and then I remember the phone call Jason made before we left, asking for cleanup help.

Shaking my head, I park behind the truck and hop out of my car, waiting for Jason as I slowly ascend my driveway. One of the men notices me, places his power washer on the ground and walks over with entirely too much energy this early in the morning. I peer over his shoulder at the spot where the blood stains were, and to my surprise, they’re gone. Not a single trace of blood anywhere.

“Hello ma’am! It’s nice to meet you!” He stretches his arm out, offering me his hand, and I shake it firmly.

“You too,” I say as I look around at the other men cleaning up the driveway, checking the garage door for remaining stains, and packing up their tools.

“I don’t know what Jason, or Maya, told you…but I appreciate you coming by on such short notice.”

He smiles at me, but his gaze is fixed over my shoulder: the sound of footsteps coming up the driveway let me know that Jason isn’t far behind. He stands behind me protectively, and places his hands on my shoulders.

“Thanks for the help, man.” Jason says with a squeeze to my shoulders. “I wasn’t sure if you had…other work…going on.”

The man gives Jason a knowing nod, and wipes his hands on his pants.

“Nah, there were a few of us free. You know we’re here to help any of you whenever you need it!”

He turns on his heels and walks back to his crew, and I look over my shoulder at Jason, unable to hide the quizzical expression on my face.

“What does he mean, “help any of you?”

Jason chuckles and walks with me to my front door.

“I think he meant the ROYAL ‘you’...not anyone in particular.”

Unlocking my door, I swing it open and let myself inside, turning in the doorway and facing Jason. He stops in his tracks, realizing I was keeping him from entering, and leans on the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Not gonna let me in?”

I shake my head.

“No, Jace…to be honest I’m really, REALLY beat, and right now I could use a shower and a nap.”

He laughs and brings his hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully.

“‘Jace?’” He muses. “Are you too tired to say my whole name?”

I smile at him and reach out, running my fingers through his hair before bringing my palm to his cheek. He reaches for my hand and places it over mine, turning to kiss my palm.

“No, not tired. I mean, you call me ‘Princess’ and I can’t exactly call you ‘prince.’ Although I’m sure you’d prefer something like ‘Daddy,’ or ‘my King.’

For the slightest second Jason stiffens, his playful expression one of surprise and confusion. It disappears an instant later and he scoffs playfully.

“Well you can call me whatever you want, Princess. Call me a scruffy looking nerf-herder for all I care.”

I roll my eyes.

“You and your Star Wars, I swear!”

We look at each other for what seems like forever, our eyes void of our usual playful antagonism as we get lost in ourselves. Reminiscing about the last few hours: the cleanup, the office, and how much closer we’ve become through it all.

After what seems like eternity, I reach out and hug him. As he tightens his arms around my neck and rests his head on mine, I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his masculinity and saturating myself in the feeling of safety that he provides.

Jason taught me last night the importance of surrendering to yourself. To admitting your wants and needs, and living in your truth…and at this moment, I know what my truth is.

“Jace? I think I love you.”

He stiffens slightly, and I can feel his heart beat a little faster in his chest. Sliding his hands from around me, he cups my head and lifts my face to face him, his entire body is beaming as he smiles with his eyes and looks at me as if he’s never cared about anything more in his entire life.

Leaning down to kiss my nose, he smiles as he answers me as only Han Solo could.

“I know, Princess. I know.”

We embrace and I look out over his shoulder down the driveway, the cleanup crew is gone, and the stain with them. I see a truck drive past my house and down the street, so fast it is almost a blur…but for a moment I could swear it was silver.

A few days later, I find myself restless. I have been careful, watching my house and nearby cars for the truck-for those men-in the case of retaliation, but have seen no sign of them.

“God I’m SO tired of being cooped up in here!” I exclaim loudly to no-one in particular, pacing around my bedroom before throwing myself on my bed in frustration. I’m getting restless, and there’s only so much mindless scrolling through social media and redecorating my apartment that I can handle.

Glancing out my bedroom window, the sun is nearly down and darkness blankets the view outside. Yet I feel awake. Alive. Like a nocturnal animal who yearns to be free of her cage.

That’s it. I’m going to Clover.

I don’t care what Jason said. I know he wants to protect me, but I’m a grown ass woman. Besides, if the events in the past are any indication as to my ability to take care of myself, then I have nothing to worry about.

After a good long shower and entirely too long doing my makeup, I check my appearance in the mirror before I go. My dark blue dress hugs every inch of my body, the shimmering fabric in deep contrast to the waves of copper cascading down my shoulders. It’s a modest length for a club dress, but it’s not like I’m not trying to impress anyone. No, I’m dressing up for myself. I’m not going to hide, not anymore.

On the drive over, I pull out my phone and call Jason. He’s been busy with Everlast stuff the last few days, but I’m hoping I can pull him away from his computer long enough to have a drink with me.

RING RING

RING RING

RING RING

“It’s late at night, what could he possibly be doing right now?” I muse to myself, leaving a voicemail before pulling up to Clover.

“Hey stud, call me back when you get this! I’m parking at Clover and wanted to see if you could join me for a drink. Love you.”

Putting the car in park, I pop my phone into my purse and head inside, nodding and smiling at the young bouncer who opens the door for me. The music is thumping and the DJ sounds new, but the dance floor is alive with bodies as they all move in unison, a sea of color and sweat and sex appeal.

I’m not here to dance.

I beeline for the bar, and notice Derek whipping up drinks for a group of college coeds. He waves at me and I approach the rows of bar stools.

“Hey Eve, how’re you doing? Jason told me you had a rough night a few days ago.”

My ass barely touches the seat and I freeze in place.

What did he just say??

Derek must see my eyes wide, and he chuckles as he starts to make my drink.

“Derek…tell me, what on Earth are you talking about? What did Jason say?”

Leaning on the bar, Derek finishes mixing and slides the glass towards me.

“Oh, you know…just that you both pulled an all nighter, and things got…heated.” He makes a scratching motion on his chest, and I realize he’s marking the same place that I had cut Jason.

“OOOOHHHHH MY GOD,” I say, grabbing my drink and chugging it, ducking my head to the side as I feel a flush hit my cheeks. I don’t know if it’s from the liquor, or the embarrassment. For a moment, I catch the scent of cigarettes, but not regular cigarettes. It smells like mint.

Like menthol.

“HAHAHAHA, it’s ok,” Derek says before grabbing my empty glass and mixing another. “Jason likes the abuse.”

A cackle echoes from behind me, and the smell of cigarettes gets stronger as I hear the shuffling of feet approaching me from behind.

Why is that smell so familiar?

Before I have a chance to turn to see who it is, a man walks up to me on my left, leaning on the bar as if he owns the place, and smiles lewdly at me.

“Hello gorgeous. Long time no see.”

I look up at the man and furrow my brow. Something about him feels off, and I can’t ignore the rush of adrenaline that begins to flood my body as I struggle to calm my nerves.

He’s obviously drunk, which isn’t a problem. I can handle drunk men. What IS a problem, is the laugh of another man behind me. That cackle I heard moments ago, the sound of footsteps approaching me is irregular. And the smell of those cigarettes…

I know that smell. I remember it from my driveway.

For a second, I turn to face him, looking down and seeing one leg in a brace: as my gaze quickly travels to his face, he smiles maliciously at me and walks right up to my right.

My jaw sets as I slowly turn so that I’m facing the bar, reaching for my drink and trying to ignore them. My body is shaking as I clutch my glass, and as I stand from my seat, the man’s hand darts out and grabs my wrist so firmly he might snap it. I glare at him, my eyes shooting daggers as I straighten up in my seat.

“Let. Me. GO.” I keep my words loud, calm, and strong.

I control my breathing, taking slow, deep breaths as I cage my nervousness. I remember what Jason told me–about controlling my fear–and in moments I feel that dark, depraved animal inside me clawing at its cage, begging to be freed. I have nothing to lose anymore, and I’ll be damned if I let myself get bullied by a bunch of asshole stalkers.

“Nah baby-girl, I don’t think so.”

He leans in and whispers in my ear, his breath reeking of liquor and I lean back away from him, losing sight of both my drink and of Derek.

“You killed my friend, and for some reason you’re still here. Well we’ve been waiting for you, you bitch. And we aren’t leaving here without you.”

He looks over at his buddy who joins him in laughter, and for a second the grip on my wrist loosens just enough for me to slide my hand away. I reach out and grab my drink, holding it close in front of me.

“I’m not going anywhere with you assholes” I snap. “Your friend deserved it. ’m only sorry I couldn’t give you the same treatment.”

I put my drink to my lips, chugging it as fast as I can so I can get the hell away from the bar, but then I feel it. A hand on my ass, as the man behind me slides it down to reach for the hem of my dress.

That’s fucking IT.

I roll my head ever so slightly in his direction, my eyes slowly dragging up from my glass to his face, as I feel a wicked grin nearly split me in two.

I snap.

“You really shouldn’t have done that.” I whisper dangerously.

In one fluid motion, I swing my arm and slam my glass into the side of his face, cracking it and watching the shards slice their way into his cheek. Small pieces dig themselves into my palm and I feel a sharp pain suddenly hit my back. I ignore it, the pain drowned out by floods of adrenaline as I push the man with all my strength, shoving him back into the line of barstools and watching him fall backwards, screaming and holding his face as he tumbles to the ground.

Hearing a scuffle behind me, I pivot and prepare to take on the other man, my fists already raised and ready to go.

“COME ON THEN!” I yell, breathing heavy with anticipation.

It was too late, the man was already running through the club towards the entrance, Jack hot on his heels. I turn back around to face the guy I had shoved over, and what I see has me smiling with satisfaction.

Derek had apparently seen what happened, leapt over the bar and grabbed this man from the floor in a chokehold, immobilizing him.

“DON’T FUCKING MOVE!” he yells at the guy struggling in his grasp.

Realizing there was no more threat, I lower my arms slightly and lean against the bar in an attempt to stabilize myself. The adrenaline SHOULD be making me more clear, more focused like the first time I confronted them…but I suddenly feel unusually dizzy.

Weird, I don’t remember getting hit by anything.

Derek cranes his head up to make sure I’m ok, but his eyes widen with concern as I take a step forward and slip on what I’m SURE was spilled drink. Catching myself on the bar, I look down and see a strange red liquid pooling against my shoes. Mixed within the shards of glass on the floor is the glint of something metal, but I can’t tell what it is. My head is swimming as I lean down to get a closer look, my back screaming at me in pain. I reach behind to feel around for the source, and bring my hand forward, my fingers coated with blood.

Fuck me.

“Jesus Christ,” I say breathlessly, struggling to maintain consciousness as my world slips into darkness.

“This was…not the night…I was….expect—”