Page 48 of Left in the Dark

“Oh, I love this song.” She stumbles forward, knocking me against the table that I’d been wiping down mere seconds before she accosted me.

“Come on, handsome. Let’s dance.” She starts wiggling against me, too drunk to dance to the rhythm of the song. It’s a fast song, but she’s pressed against me like a love ballad is playing.

Her loud voice begins screeching the lyrics in my ear, drowning out all other noise.

Jesus Christ.

I try to push her away, but she’s holding on like a drowning person holding onto a life raft.

“Jayleen, you need to go home. Talk to Roger and try to work things out.”

“F-Fuck, Roger,” she slurs.

Even though I cut her off twenty minutes ago, she hasn’t sobered up. “Let me call someone. Do you have any friends I could?—”

“Noooo!” she wails, her long fingernails digging into my skin through the fabric of my shirt. “They all got tired of me… spending all my time with him… and abandoned me.” Fat tears slide down her cheeks as she sobs.

Oh, Christ. I just made things worse.

I pat her back like I would an unconsolable child, wondering how the fuck I can get her out of the bar. I meet Ian’s gaze over her dark, overly teased hair and shoot him a pleading look.

“You know what, sugar?” She stops crying as though everything is suddenly fine and takes advantage of my distraction by spinning me away from Ian and closer to the pool tables in the back. “I could show you a good time. Roger said I give the best head.”

Oh, fuck no.

The only one I want to give me head is the dark-haired beauty I abandoned in a restroom at the lake a couple of days ago.

Maybe I should hear Delaney out. I sure as hell haven’t shaken her from my system.

Lost in thought, I’m not paying attention to the octopus latching onto me. My mind is reeling with possibilities of how I can see her.Going to her house will never work.The Warners despise me.

Jayleen mistakes my distraction and silence for consent. The next thing I know, she’s squeezing my face between her palms, her lips pressed against mine.

Jesus Christ. What the hell is happening?

I’m in a stupor as she keeps her lips locked on mine like a damn vacuum cleaner. The taste of whiskey and cigarettes makes me gag, and I shove her away.

She stumbles back, a hurt look on her face.

“Jayleen. What the hell are you doing?” I take a few steps backward, not allowing her to speak. “I’ll have Ian call someone to pick you up.” Spinning on my heel, I wipe my hand over my mouth, feeling disgusted.

“Zayne. I?—”

“Not now, Ian. I need to go rinse my mouth out.” I stride toward the bathroom, yelling over my shoulder. “Call someone to get Jayleen. Get her the fuck out of the bar.”

“Zayne. You need?—”

“Now, Ian,”I bark before pushing into the bathroom and slamming the door behind me. I head to the sink, turn the water on, and splash my face, not caring that the water is freezing.

Looking in the mirror, I frown at the red lipstick. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, I wet them, vigorously scrubbing my mouth. When that doesn’t work, I put some hand soap on it, finally getting it off, then rinse my mouth with the water flowing from the facet.

Grabbing a small cup, I press the Listerine dispenser on the wall, throwing it back like a shot, swishing rapidly until I can no longer tolerate the burn. Then I spit it out.

As I dry my face, there’s a pounding on the door.

Tossing the paper towels in the trash, I stride to it and jerk it open. “Did you call someone?—"

There’s a wildness in his eyes. “Zayne. It’s Delaney. She came into the bar while Jayleen was kissing you.”

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