Page 9 of Under the Influence
"Just trust me. He loves you more than you'll everknow."
Love.
Gio lovesme.
The world seems to blur with his words swirling around me thicker than the billowing snowflakes outside the steamy glass. He can't be serious. But his haunting tone doesn't seem facetious. So lost in his staunch declaration, I miss him pulling up to the curb and jump when Sheena pounds against my window. Ready to beat Gio if he'sinside.
Before I can question him further, he taps his finger on the side console, and the locks click sharply in the quiet interior. Sheena jerks open the door and bends to search for our enemy. Scanning the seats with a ferocity I've never seen before darkening her normally docile face. Dirty blond strands slipping out of her messy bun from the force of her head whipping back andforth.
Relaxing only a bit to find just Tucker and me, she slides a stiff hand under my arm. Yanking me out of the car with strength I didn't know she possessed. To get me away from his bodyguard. Away from the luxury. Away from anything that could lure me back into Gio'sclutches.
I grasp the roof lip, trying to gain my balance in a faltering world while my best friend crouches down again and glares atTucker.
"I'd say it's nice to see you again, but it'snot."
She drags me forward across the concrete before slamming the door with all her might. I swear I can hear Tucker's laughter even through the thick metal. Without leaving me any more time to decipher his meaning, Sheena strides through the narrow doorway, lugging me along like a wayward toddler. Ready to bolt away at the first shiny object to catch her attention. Or more likely a disobedient child who's done the exact opposite of what she's been repeatedly told not to do and is about to receive a long, sternlecture.
We by-pass several open tables and head straight to the bar where she's already holding up fourfingers.
"Tequilaplease."
Chris nods and grabs the bottle on the shelf behind him. Not even bothering to comment that the quantity of drinks outnumbers the girls. He's worked this shift for more than twenty years and knows people who come in at this time of day are serious about using alcohol to hide from their pain. Or at least make their anguish a problem for tomorrow rather thantoday.
A duet each of shot glasses, filled to the rim with shiny gold liquid, scoots across the dull wooden surface in front of us, and I raise mine to my lips before Sheena settles into her heavy stool. Carefully draping her purple wrap around the beige cushion. Gashes threaded through the cheap vinyl from years ofuse.
I need this liquor more than she does. A preemptive strike to numb myself from her punishing reprimand. Which I know I deserve, but not sure if I can handle with my own shame already twisting knots in my throbbing neck andshoulders.
Rich and spicy, the booze leaves a warm trail down my throat, through my chest, and into my belly. Surprisingly good quality for an unassuming place like this. A smart man, Chris always stocks what his customers like, and the man definitely knows how much Gio enjoys his tequila. Or maybe he’s just more terrified of the mobster’s reputation than he likes to admit. Even though Gio was always mellow and generous when I brought himhere.
Damn him. I can’t even enjoy drowning my sorrows anymore without him invading my thoughts. I down the second tumbler while Sheena finishes her first. I don’t know who I’m trying to fool. He can’t invade my thoughts when he’s never left them in the firstplace.
Welcoming the slow release of my stress as my body finally begins to relax, I wiggle my fingers at Chris again. I need so much more than shots to erase the image of Gio’s earnest face from my mind. The pleading tone in his voice. The need aching in both of ourbodies.
The bartender doesn’t even bother to retrieve clean glasses. Just fills these again. Which is fine. I don’t need fancy. I just need drunk. Once I swallow the third drink, Sheena pats my forearm. Still trembling slightly under her small hands from thetension.
“Okay, I’m ready. Tell me whathappened.”
Braced with liquid courage, I sigh. “Gio happened, ofcourse.”
Her grip tightens, clenching the thick fabric under her fingers. His jacket. Which she’d probably rip off me, mutilate the cashmere to shreds, and then light them on fire if she realized the coat belongs to him. “He crashed the party, made a huge scene, dragged me upstairs to his office, asked me to take him back, and threatened Leighton. Who of course immediately dumped me andI—“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Glassy eyes meet mine. Slow on the uptake with the alcohol flowing through her, she shakes her head. “Did you say that selfish bastard wants to get back together? After what he did? Afterthe…”
Too painful for her to say the words. Too harsh for me to hear them. I curl into myself. A cruel reminder of the aftermath long after his merciless brutality ended. “You know you can’t be mad at him for that. He didn’tknow.”
The glasses rattle more than my shivering body from her hand slamming down on the faded wood. Oops. Wrong time to defendhim.
“I can be mad at him for any damn thing I want. You should betoo.”
I know I should. I want to be. I was. But all it took was one look, one touch, one plea to sway my heartagain.
Only a slight slur to her shouting words, but Chris wanders over anyway. Uncertain if from the commotion or the emptyglasses.
“I think you ladies need somefood.”
Her arm slices through the air. Barely missing my now warm nose. “I think I need to kick Gio’sass.”
A little tipsy myself, I giggle from Sheena’s threat. Most girls get flirty or think they dance like J Lo when they drink. I love that my best friend thinks she’s an MMA fighter orsomething.
