Page 72 of Deserter

“Oh, I fucked up,” Jamie’s voice slurred, and I snapped out of my trance to look for him. I had just side-stepped over a passed out biker lying on the floor in the middle of the room when I spotted them—and my blood pressure went through the roof.

He was slumped over a bar stool, flicking the ash from his cigarette onto the scarred bar top, oblivious to the ashtray six inches away. A topless woman was on all fours in front of him, her hands twisted up in his blond hair. It was Blondie, fromLeather & Lace.

I knew what went on in the club; had heard the whisperings from the other Ol’ Ladies when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. There were always going to be club girls and women collected as payment on debts. I clutched my chest, feeling like the air had been knocked from my lungs.

I’d wanted to believe that if he wasn’t sleeping with me, then he wasn’t sleeping with anyone.

Naïve, stupid girl.

I had no idea what to do.Go back home and pretend I saw nothing? Pack up my things and disappear?Hot tears spilled over onto my cheeks as I watched the father of my baby receive a lap dance from a woman I despised. She tried forcing his face between her very fake breasts, but he jerked away to take another drag off his cigarette.

Lucy had given me tips on everything. Not once had she mentioned what to do if you saw your Ol’ Man with one of the club girls. I turned away, disgusted and ready to run, when it hit me.

It wasn’t breaking the rules if it hadn’t been covered, right?

I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands as I stalked back behind the bar.

“C’mon, baby.” Blondie did a shimmy and reached for Jamie’s hands. I caught her by the hair and dragged her off the bar top with a strength I didn’t know I possessed.

“Get off of him,” I hissed, feeling triumphant as she fell back onto her butt with a grunt of pain.

I’d hoped the fall had broken her tailbone, but Blondie was back on her feet again within seconds. When she saw my belly, she threw her head back with a laugh. “Get the fuck out of here! You really think you stand a chance with him, looking like a beached whale?”

I crossed my arms over my chest with a raised chin and kept my voice steady. “You’re done here. Get your things and go.”

I looked to Jamie to back me up, but he was now slumped over on his forearm, the lit cigarette still dangling between his fingertips. Looked like I’d be relying on John and Comedian to deal with her.

“Fuck you. You don’t call the shots!” she spat before taking a step forward.

John walked up just as she reared back to slap me, catching her arm in his. “That’s Grey’s Ol’ Lady.”

She shook her head. “Jesus. I—I didn’t know.”

“Slim, I want her out of here. Get your things and go. I won’t say it again,” I demanded icily before checking Jamie. His breathing was deep and even, but I lifted his eyelids anyway, just like they did on the medical drama,Nightingales. I wasn’t really sure what it was I was supposed to be looking for though.

John restrained Blondie before signaling to another biker. “Get her out of here.”

“What did he take?” I asked quietly. “And why?”

“Mainly tequila, a little blow. I don’t know. He’s been a fucking wreck since we left. Why are you here? You should be home resting.”

“I’m here for him.” I was glad that the lights were low so he couldn’t see the fresh batch of tears that were gathering in my eyes. “Can you help me carry him to his room?”

I’d get him safe and then find out why he was with another woman.

One crisis at a time, Celia.

Comedian strolled up and looped Jamie’s arm around his shoulder, taking the time to stub out his cigarette. “Let’s go, Pres. Time to sleep it off.” John grabbed his other arm and I followed behind.

Memories came rushing back once we entered the room, along with the realization that Jamie had not been taking care of himself. The floor was littered with clothing and empty bottles of booze. Several had broken, leaving shards of glass scattered across the floor.

“Get him in the shower,” I directed Comedian and John. “And get me a broom to clean this mess up.”

They dragged Jamie into the bathroom and reappeared with small smiles on their faces.

“What?”

John shook his head. “I’m just really happy that I’m not in Grey’s shoes right now. How ‘bout you, Comedian?”

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