Bound to the Fallen (Prophecy #2) Page 7

  Grabbing the edge of the bar, I pulled myself up. I darted through the crowd to the back of the bar. Ashley and Constance followed as I flew around the stage and walked into the bathroom.

  “Okay, what the hell is going on?” Constance placed her hands on her hips and stared at us both, waiting on an answer.

  Ashley leaned against the stall and started giggling.

  I screamed out, “The nasty, creepy guy from my office is here. Dan, you know, the pervert?” I was internally freaking out. I felt like I was being stalked.

  “What? Why?” Constance looked concerned.

  “I don’t know.”

  Constance thought for a moment. “I mean, people go out all the time. Maybe he’s here with friends.”

  Ashley frowned. “Yeah, right. He doesn’t have any friends. I’m pretty sure his wife even refuses to be seen in public with him.”

  “Shit,” I groaned. “What do we do? He’s seriously messed up. Well, we can’t go back out there, we just can’t,” I continued to freak out as I paced back and forth, frantically sucking my drink down in an effort to calm the uncomfortable tightening feeling in my chest. “I’m going to HR Monday. This is sick!”

  Ashley snorted, “Yeah. And how long have you been there? A week? You’re still on that ‘let’s see if she works out’ period. I think you should wait until your probation’s up. That way they can’t just let you go without a reason.”

  My jaw gapped open. I couldn’t believe this. “Seriously, Ashley? Wait for five more months?”

  She pursed her lips to the side, took a swig of her drink, and shrugged.

  I was really disgusted with the fact that my Dan-free weekend had just been ruined. It wasn’t long before I was taken, against my will, back up to the bar to order another drink. As I was putting my wallet back into my purse I felt my phone vibrate. Pulling my phone out, there were two new text messages. When I pressed the button to open the messages up, I almost chunked my phone across the bar. The texts were from Dan.

  “Holy shit. He’s texting me,” I said as I stood almost frozen, my eyes glued to my phone.

  “Who? Dan?” Ashley snatched my phone out of my hands and read the messages.

  Dan: Hey, what you doing?

  Dan: I think I see you, are you at Madhaters? You look smoking hawt!

  Ashley passed the phone to Constance.

  Constance wrinkled her forehead and handed my phone back to me. “Okay, that’s weird and creepy. Do you see him?”

  I looked around, but didn’t see him. “No,” I said with a sigh of relief.

  Ashley glared at me. “Are you gonna respond?”

  “Hell, no! I don’t want to have to talk to him!”

  Constance’s eyes were frantically scanning the crowd. “Well, I’ve got to see this guy. So when you see him, you let me know where he is,” she said.

  She just didn’t understand.

  We got our drinks and made our way through the crowd to the stage to watch the next band play. I was constantly glancing over my shoulder to see if I could spot Dan, but much to my relief I didn’t see him. When the first song ended I felt someone pinch my arm.

  “I see him!” Ashley yelled over the loud guitars. “Look up at the catwalk.”

  Glancing up, I saw him leaned over the edge of the railing. He saw me looking at him and waved. I halfway waved back and out of pure desperation I grabbed Adam and started making out with him. When I finally pulled away Constance was staring at me, her lip curling up to her nose and her eyebrows sharply pointing down.

  Adam was one of those guys we’d sworn neither of us would ever touch, no matter how drunk or desperate. We’d vowed that we’d never let the other one commit such a heinous act… well, that vow was made long before I knew anything of Dan Stanley.

  “Well, all right…” Adam said, bringing his lips in for another kiss. I looked up hoping that Dan wasn’t watching, but he was, so I had no choice but to kiss Adam again. I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin as Adam’s slimy tongue forced its way through my tightened lips.

  Constance punched me in the arm, then pinched my skin with her long, sharp nails.

  “What the hell, Brooke? That is disgusting…look at him… that’s Adam! Adam! You just swapped saliva with Adam! You should be ashamed of yourself!” Constance crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at me with a look of complete disgust.

  “Hey,” Adam protested.

  I tried explaining myself to Constance, “Look, that creepy guy is watching me and I just want him to think I have a boyfriend, okay? Adam was the closest thing to me besides you and Ashley. I don’t think me making out with one of you would exactly turn Dan off, so…” I looked over at Adam. “Sorry.”

  Adam shrugged. “Hey, if sticking your tongue down my throat can get you away from a creepy guy, well, I’m willing to make that sacrifice for you.” He leaned down to kiss my neck. I immediately grabbed his chest and twisted as hard as I could on what I thought was most likely his nipple. “Okay, okay… but you know… I’m also willing to consummate this fake relationship for a small fee.” Adam smiled. “We can just refer to it as ‘fake fucking.’ ”

  “Shut up,” I said, peeking back up to the catwalk. Dan was gone.

  We finished watching the band and made our way to the bar for last call.

  “Brooke? Hey, Brooke.” I glanced out the corner of my eye and saw Dan pushing his way through the crowd, alone.

  “Hey, I thought that was you I saw,” he said as he walked over and tried to give me a hug. Thankfully, Adam reached over and put his arm around me.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I replied with a complete lack of enthusiasm. “Ashley’s here too,” I said, pointing at the bar where she was ordering a drink.

  Adam stuck his hand out, “Hey man, I’m Adam… Brooke’s boyfriend.”

  Dan didn’t shake his hand. “I’m Dan,” he said dryly. His eyes shot over to me. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Brooke. You’ve never mentioned him to me.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t really discuss my personal life at work.”

  Ashley sucked her red cocktail through her straw and glared at Dan as she and Colton came back over to us.

  “Hey, Dan. What brings you out this time of night?” Ashley sneered and swirled the straw around in the plastic cup.

  “Well, this is how I unwind after a long stressful week. You know, I play the guitar… I appreciate music and like to come see some live gigs every now and then.” Dan ran his hand through his thinning hair and glanced over at Constance. “This is the girl from the picture in your office, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s Constance. Constance, this is Dan.”

  Constance held onto her drink with both hands. “Nice to meet you. I’d offer to shake your hand, but I have a disorder that makes my hands really sweaty…so I don’t shake people’s hands…”

  We all stood in silence, staring at Dan. Adam tried to look as badass as possible and rubbed my shoulder with his hand.

  Dan glanced over at Ashley and then back to me. “I didn’t realize the two of you were friends. Or did you just happen to run into Ashley here?”

  “We’re friends,” Ashley said through a clenched jaw. “We’ve got to go, so I guess we’ll see you on Monday. Dan — always a pleasure.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, it was nice to meet you, Constance. I’ve got to be getting to the hizzy anyways.” Dan turned and walked off.

  Adam loosened his grip on me and groaned, “What a dipshit! I seriously wanted to punch him in the face when he said ‘hizzy.’”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s what we put up with Monday through Friday,” Ashley said as she lit a cigarette and perched herself on Colton’s lap.

  About an hour after my horrid encounter with Dan the bar was closing down. Our group meandered through the drunken stragglers still hanging around the bar and walked out to hail a cab. When I saw a cab slowing down at the curb, I looked around for Ashley. She
and Colton were lip locked up against the brick facing of the building. Punching Constance in the shoulder, I pointed back at the two of them.

  She immediately covered her eyes with her hand and gagged. “Fuck! I don’t need to see that! I should twist your tittie for that!”

  Rolling my eyes at Constance, I opened the door to the cab and yelled out, “Ashley, you want to ride with us?”

  Colton motioned at us to leave, so I shut the door, trapping myself in the musty cab. The smell turned my vodka-filled stomach and I cracked the window in an effort to keep from throwing up.

  Thirty minutes later we pulled up to my apartment complex. I looked over and Constance was passed out on Adam. Reaching over, I shook her. “Hey, wake up. Constance, get up.”

  She didn’t budge.

  Adam picked Constance’s arm up and released it; it fell down like a lead weight. “Man, she’s out. Y’all were slammin’ those shots back like there was no tomorrow — I bet she pukes tonight.”

  I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Do you think you could help me get her in my apartment or somethin’? Damn.”

  He groaned and slid across the seat. “I guess, but I’m stayin’ here.”

  “Fine,” I huffed and rolled my eyes.

  Adam got out, flung her small frame over his shoulder, and carried her up the three flights of stairs while her drool oozed down the back of his t-shirt.

  I unlocked the door and leaned into it. The door swung open and I teetered in the entrance way. “Well, I guess take her back to my bed,” I said and pointed to my bedroom.

  Adam hurled her onto my bed, the springs squeaking as her body hit it. Constance moaned and threw her hand over her face.

  Grabbing a blanket from the foot of my bed, I tossed it onto my couch. “I don’t have an extra pillow, just use one of the throw pillows.” I looked at him and added, “Wash the eyeliner off first though.”

  Adam flopped down on my couch and yanked the blanket over himself. He hung his head off the arm of my couch and looked at me. “Don’t worry, it’s waterproof. Shouldn’t smudge all over your precious pillow.”

  “Whatever,” I mumbled and staggered back to my bedroom to climb into the bed next to Constance. She reeked of alcohol and the smell exuding from her made me feel like I might throw up.

  When I woke the next morning I went into the restroom and found Constance asleep by the toilet, and from the looks of it she’d had a pretty rough night. My head pounded severely as I leaned down to try and wake her up.

  “Constance, get up!” I shook her, “Constance — get up… I’ve got to pee.” Still no movement other than a few lip smacks. “Whore? Move!” I yelled as I pushed at her with my foot.

  Her eyes popped open momentarily before lazily falling shut again. I figured I wouldn’t be able to get her up, and the way she was curled around the toilet I couldn’t really sit on it, so I climbed in the shower to pee. Turning on the hot water, I slumped down into the floor of my tub, trying to will the hangover away while I thought about Gavin. I was daydreaming about how he would come into the office Monday and rescue me from Dan again. I kept replaying him saying, “It wasn’t a request. It was an order.” That dominant, alpha male thing really got me.

  Five minutes into my shower, and right at the part of my daydream when Gavin was slamming me up against the copier in a passionate embrace, I heard retching. Constance had woken up and was throwing up again.

  What a great Sunday. I had a horrible hangover, most likely eyeliner all over the throw pillow Adam had slept on, and now my beautiful daydream about the sexy Gavin Hunter had been ruined by the sound of my friend dry heaving in my toilet.

  Chapter Seven

  Gavin

  Turning, I smiled at her before leaving the conference room.

  I found the nervous hitch in her voice enticing; the slight blush that rushed across her face as she watched me was quite sexy. Although I knew I shouldn’t, I wanted to do such dirty things to that woman. Her full lips closed to form the sultriest pout, and her bright blue eyes struck something deep inside that reminded me of the first time I’d ever seen a woman. As I thought about Brooke my mind wandered back to the Garden. Brooke’s eyes were the same piercing blue of the first woman I’d ever touched.

  Closing my eyes, I remembered the wanton inflection in that woman’s voice as she said, “Safe from you?”

  It’s as though she knew my intentions with her that day I watched her bathing. I opened my eyes and glanced out of my office window, staring at the concrete buildings and blue sky. The feelings Brooke stirred within me were unnerving. She was strikingly gorgeous to say the least, and I wanted to own her pleasure. She was unmarked and absolutely irresistible.

  I sat down at my computer and typed out an email as I tried to push the image of her out of my mind, but it had been a long time since the mere presence of a woman made me physically want for her the way Brooke did. Had I only known how quickly I would lose complete control, I would have damned this woman for infesting my mind. I knew there was no one to keep Brooke safe from me, I’d seen something I wanted – and I had a habit of claiming things that appealed to me.

  I’d made it painfully obvious that I was attracted to her the first day I’d met her, and I couldn’t have her thinking that I was taken with her. Women know all too well the power they have over a man who’s deeply attracted to them. I had to make sure I kept my attraction to her under control for several reasons, most importantly of which was that she was not marked. The day I’d run into her in the lobby had haunted me for weeks. At that moment, as I watched her reflection, I couldn’t help but think of how she’d feel. Better yet, I couldn’t stop the thoughts of how she’d taste. I knew better because Brooke was not trained and playing with her would be nothing short of a nasty game of Russian roulette. The only way it could end would be in someone’s death.

  “Gavin?” Zach waved his hand in front of my face. “Dude, you here?”

  I glanced up and shook my head, “Yeah, sorry — I just — I was thinking about work.”

  Zach lifted the frosted mug to his mouth and took a swig. He used the back of his hand to wipe the beer foam off his mouth and asked, “So, you gonna pick up one of those girls or what?” I followed his gaze over to a table of blondes across the bar. “I call dibs on the one in the green shirt.”

  I shot an uninterested look in Zach’s direction before glancing back over at the table he was eyeing. “You know I don’t ‘pick’ women up in bars,” I said.

  Zach ran his hand over his shaven head and winked slyly at the table of girls. He cut his eyes back to me promptly. “Dude, they’re hot! What’s wrong with you, man?” He stood up, taking his glass and inhaling the frothy lager. “You’re my wingman. I can’t go over there without my wingman.”

  “You do know how much I despise coming out to places like this, don’t you? Hell, I don’t even drink,” I said, lifting my scotch to my lips. I clinked the ice against the glass before setting it back down onto the wooden tabletop, my arms folding across the table as I stared at Zach.

  “Come on, man. Chicks dig your ridiculous accent. It automatically makes me look better.”

  I placed my hand around the wet glass and twisted it. “Yes, they also find the fact that you’re a doctor rather appealing as well.”

  “Stop being such a puss. Get your ass up,” Zach said and pushed his seat under the table.

  Begrudgingly, I rose, pushing my hair behind my ear as I grabbed my half-empty glass. I followed Zach across the bar and stopped in front of the table of girls. Each one pulled their chins down coyly and batted their eyes at us both. They all looked similar, platinum blonde hair, dull blue eyes, tanned skin and skin-tight clothes. The one in the middle plucked the cherry from her drink and seductively placed it in her mouth, firmly pulling the stem loose.

  “Good evening, ladies,” Zach said. I shook my head because I knew if I kept my mouth shut it was only a matter of
moments before he spouted off some ridiculous pick-up lines. “We —”

  I cut him off abruptly. “We were wondering if you ladies would be interested in some drinks?” I said in the hopes that my accent would make it hard for them to pick up on the disinterest that lie behind my voice.

  A large grin formed across the face of the girl in the green shirt. “Oh! I love your accent. Are you British?” she asked.

  I absolutely despise when people refer to me as British, I prefer the term English. Petty, I know, but it’s a peeve of mine.

  Forcing the corners of my lips up into a charming smile, I said, “Yes, I’m from England.”

  “Oh, that’s so hot. Do you live here?” the blonde against the wall asked.

  I forced another fake smile. “Yes, I moved here several years ago for medical school.”

  “You’re a doctor, what kind?” the other one asked.

  “Neurosurgeon.”

  All three lit up at the mention of my profession. I could almost hear the dollar signs blowing through their heads.

  “And my friend Zach here, he’s also a neurosurgeon, although he’s not English,” I said as I patted him on the back.

  Zach shook his head. “So what are your names?”

  “Mine’s Bridgett,” the one in the green replied. “This is Kelsey and that’s Mallory,” she said, pointing to the other two girls.

  Zach rested against the edge of their table. “Nice to meet you. As he said, I’m Zach and he’s Gavin.”

  The three girls giggled and stared at us.

  I was forced to endure an entire hour trying to hold a conversation with the belligerent group of girls so Zach could work his way into getting laid. Sometimes I was certain I took this entire blending in with mortals thing a little too far. I pretended to get a call and excused myself from the table.

  “Don’t leave us, beautiful British doctor,” one of the girls called out. I stopped and turned back in her direction. My gaze narrowed onto her as I stretched my hand up toward her neck. Brushing her hair back, I traced my hand over her skin, softly rubbing my finger across her earlobe.