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“I’m fine, Jackson,” she slurred.
“Listen, man, she’s fine. I’ll take her home,” Marcus gritted.
“Oh, I’m sure you would. Just like you’d probably take a little something else in the duration.” I said, glaring at him. “What does she owe?” I questioned.
“Two hundred and twenty,” Marcus said, smirking. “What can I say? Your girl likes to drink.”
I completely ignored his comment and pulled my credit card from my wallet, handing it to him. It was a small price to pay knowing I was saving her from a man who clearly only wanted one thing, and the fact that he had gotten her drunk to attain it made me sick. I had a good mind to charge him. If I could have proved it, I would have.
“Come on, Bailey,”
Bailey turned her watery, bloodshot eyes on me and shoved at my chest. “He’s taking me home,” she said, nodding toward Marcus.
I looked over at Marcus, who could barely keep his eyes off her. The look he gave was making me incredibly uncomfortable. Marcus threw my credit card down on the counter. I looked at Bailey, who now had her head down on the bar. I knew it was going to be only a matter of minutes before she passed out. In all the years I’d been with her, I’d never seen her this drunk.
“Come on, beautiful, let’s get you home,” I said in her ear.
This time, she didn’t fight me. Once my arm was wrapped around her, she slowly and unsteadily stood up, leaning against me. I stopped to get a better grip on her and that was when she looked up at me, squinting.
“We should dance. Remember how we used to dance? You’d hold me like you’d never let me go,” she mumbled. Just then, one of her favorite songs came over the speakers. “Hold me like that again, Jackson,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her body into me. “Whisper the words in my ear, the way you used to.”
I readjusted my arm around her to make sure she wouldn’t fall and guided her to the door. I pulled her against me, holding her with one arm while waiting for a group of people to exit the bar.
“You smell so good. Just how I remembered,” she muttered, burying her face into the crook of my neck, the soft puff of breath sending shivers through my body.
I nodded to the bouncer, who held the door open for me. I led her outside, the cold air hitting us both as we stepped out onto the sidewalk. I took my time, carefully leading her to my car, and opened the passenger door. Once I got her seated and her belt done up, I closed the door and made my way around to the driver’s side.
“Where are you staying? With your mom?” I questioned as I turned the engine. When she didn’t respond, I glanced over at the passenger’s seat to see Bailey had already passed out, her head resting against the headrest. I tapped the steering wheel with my right hand and thought for a moment. There was no way I could show up at her mom’s house with Bailey in this condition. Her mother worried enough about her. I didn’t want to give her cause to worry more. I also couldn’t take her back to Ryan and Cara’s. I wasn’t sure if she had a place of her own. There was only one thing I could do, and I was sure my decision would open up a can of regret as I pulled away from the curb, heading toward my place.
It took me a bit, but I finally got her inside the house. I turned on the small table lamp at the end of the couch and placed her on the couch. I tucked a pillow under her head and was just going to leave her there when she started to dry heave. I quickly rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a bowl, and returned just in time to watch as she got sick all over herself.
“Fantastic,” I muttered, setting the clean bowl on the table. “Cara owes me big time.” I mumbled as I ran down the hall and grabbed one of my T-shirts, returning to the living room. I carefully slipped her soiled shirt off over her head and slipped my T-shirt on in its place, then I gently pulled her out of her jeans. I looked down at her as she rolled onto her side and curled her bare legs up to her. Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, I covered her and placed the bowl on the floor beside the couch.
I balled her clothes up and threw them into the washer, starting the load. When I returned to the living room, I watched her for a moment. Then went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and dropped two headache tablets in the palm of my hand. I returned to the living room, leaving the pills and water on the table in front of her. There was no doubt in my mind she would need them when she woke up. I sat down and watched her for a bit, making sure she wasn’t going to be sick again. When I was certain she was going to be fine, I pulled the covers up over her shoulder and shut the light off.
I stood watching her bathed in the light from the streetlight. I’d forgotten how beautiful she was. I felt more at ease knowing that she was here, safe from that creep. After everything that had happened, I doubted I would get any sleep tonight, but I walked down the hall to the bedroom, anyway. Once in my bedroom, I slipped out of my jeans, pulled my shirt off over my head, and crawled into bed.
Bailey
I rolled over and could already feel my stomach threatening to empty its contents. I felt like I was already spinning, and it only worsened when I opened my eyes. The bright light from the window practically blinded me, and I buried my head back into the pillow. The clang of metal aggravated my already aching head as I rubbed at my dry eyes and lifted my head, pain running through my temples.
I looked around the room and then down at the unfamiliar, oversized T-shirt I was wearing. I looked at the table where there was a glass of water and, beside that, two headache tablets. I reached for them, popping them into my mouth and drinking down the warm water.
There was another loud bang from the other room, and I sat up and kicked the covers off me to find I was missing my pants. I took a deep breath, recognizing the old worn material of the La-Z-Boy chair that was across from me. I had purchased that chair for Jackson when we had moved in together. What the hell was I doing at Jackson’s? I stood up, waited for the room to stop spinning, and glanced around the room one more time before making my way into the kitchen.
Jackson stood at the counter, shirtless, the muscles of his back rippling as he whipped whatever he had in the bowl. I leaned against the door frame and took in the view. He continued whipping the contents of the bowl. The clanging of the metal against metal drilled into my head. “Can you please just stop that?” I bit out, rubbing my temples as pain shot through them again.
He turned abruptly, as if I had caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been. “Sleep well?” he asked, a small smile creeping onto his lips for a minute before he went back to whipping the contents of the bowl.
“What am I doing here?” I demanded.
Jackson let out a throaty laugh. “Better here than where you could have ended up.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I crossed my arms across my chest, getting my defenses up. “Where are my clothes?” I questioned, trying to piece together any memory of what had happened last night.
“Your clothes are in the dryer, right over there. You got sick all over yourself,” he muttered, then turned and placed two glasses of juice down on the table.
I looked from him to the dryer. “You… you undressed me?” I questioned.
