Page 64 of Something that Could Last

Abby downs the rest of her drink and places the empty cup back on the table. “I’m gonna run to the ladies’ room and get another drink. Anybody want anything?”

Tiff gives her an order, but Luke and I both have full beers so we decline. When she gets back, she hands Tiff her usual Long Island and sips on one of her own. We enjoy the music until the band takes another break and recorded music starts to play over the sound system. Classic rock is playing now, and a few of the older patrons trickle out onto the dance floor. I pull Abby to her feet when ‘Ready for Love’ begins to play.

“Where are we going?” She giggles tipsily, and I’m taken aback by how intoxicated she seems. I didn’t think she’d had that much to drink, but then again, she’s pretty small, so it wouldn’t take much.

“They’re finally playing something I know.” We sway to the music and when the chorus begins, I sing to her.

Her whole body shakes with laughter at my off-key attempt to serenade her with Bad Company. I’m a terrible singer, but I mean what I’m saying. Or singing, rather. Iamready for love. For her love.

“Oh my gosh,” she gasps. “How do you even know this song?”

I shrug. “Dad’s a big fan. He has this record on vinyl.”

“You continue to surprise me with your knowledge of good music. I’d pegged you as a Snow Patrol, Coldplay kind of guy,” she titters, a giddy tinkling to her voice. I’m not sure how to take that. It almost sounded like an insult, but that’s completely out of character for her. I brush the odd comment off and dance with her until the song ends.

Walking her back to our table, I notice that she’s stumbling quite a bit. Luke and Tiff are gone who knows where. They probably found some dark broom closet to screw in.

Abby finishes what’s left of her drink and stands up, swaying a little before gripping the chair for balance. “I’m going to the ladies’ again.”

“Are you alright? Want me to come with you?”

She just waves me off and I watch her disappear into the crowd, weaving. She heads for the back of the building towards the restrooms and out of my sight.

She’s been gone for a little bit when I start to worry. I hope she hasn’t passed out somewhere. There’s still no sign of Luke and Tiff, so I go in search of Abby by myself. I check the bar first and then the restrooms. I can’t find her anywhere and I start to panic.

I grab some random girl and ask, “Do you know Abby Harris?”

“Yeah,” she answers, looking at me skeptically.

“Have you seen her?”

“Umm, yeah,” she replies hesitantly like she doesn’t want to tell me where she is.

“Where is she?” I want to shake her. I’m growing impatient and I just want her to tell me what she knows.

“She just left with some guy.” My heart sinks until it lands in the pit of my stomach, and I feel the urge to puke. Either she decided to spend the night in someone else’s bed, or some dickhead is taking advantage of the fact that she’s too wasted to even walk straight.

“Are you sure it was Abby?”

“Yeah, it was definitely her. She was with some dark-haired guy. I think his name is Kevin or Caleb or something.” Fear and panic morph into full-blown terror. She must sense my escalating desperation, because she points to a door leading out back and says, “They just went out that door a minute ago.”

I release her and barrel towards the exit, knocking into people on the way. I don’t even bother to apologize; my thoughts are focused on finding Abby.If he leaves with her...I don’t even want to think about what will happen.

I burst through the back door and suck in a breath, filling my lungs with the balmy midnight air. I look around, searching for her, praying they’re not gone yet. Finally, far to my right, past multiple rows of cars, I see them. Rage fills my chest when I see his arm wrapped around her waist, supporting her weight as he practically drags her towards his douche-mobile. The Mustang is parked near the back of the lot and they’re quickly closing the gap. I need to reach her before theyreachit.

I take off towards them. “Hey!” I yell so he’ll stop.

He turns to look at me. He doesn’t stop, but it slows him down.

“Stop! Let go of her!” I’m running, my arms pumping at my sides.

“Mind your own business, dickhead,” he has the nerve to yell back at me. He’s overly confident I won’t reach them in time.

Big mistake, asshole.

“Motherfucker,” I grunt in frustration.

“Jacob!” I hear someone calling my name from behind, Luke maybe, but I’m too focused to stop now. I’m almost there.

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