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I swallow hard. “I …”
Before I say another word his soft lips connect with mine. I turn my head, denying him. I don’t know why. I want his kiss, but I know he’ll take more than a kiss if I let him.
He groans. “Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad at you.” My chest heaves, but I fight back tears. “I’m afraid of you.”
“Fuck this!” He gets out of the truck and goes inside the bar.
Before I go inside, I text Ginger to pick me up. The bar is crowded, but it doesn’t take me long to find him. I wish I hadn’t. He’s sitting on a stool at the corner of the packed bar with a blonde ornament on his lap. He pounds a few shots, oblivious to my presence. I secure my purse over my neck, crossing my body and round the corner for a better view. Blondie wears a skimpy dress with knee high cowboy boots. Battle and I make eye contact as he whispers in the blonde’s ear. I try to ignore how her squirming and giggling affects me.
My relationship with Battle is strictly professional. He’s free to
screw any buckle-bunny-bimbo he wants. I stride over to him with confidence and sit on the empty stool next to him.
He makes no effort to acknowledge me and continues flirting with the blonde. My chagrin grows stronger with each nose brushing, ear nipping, and knee rubbing. I may have spoken out of place earlier, but his behavior is intentionally cruel. When he takes a shot from her cleavage, I’ve had enough.
“Bartender,” I call out, waving my hand in the air.
A middle aged woman with leather skin and yellow teeth smiles at me. “What can I get ya, girlie?”
I dig around in my purse and pull out the envelope full of cash. Battle’s eyes widen when I slam the envelope onto the bar and say, “Mr. McCoy would like to buy drinks for the entire bar.” I smile, holding her gaze.
“That’s darn nice of him.” She smiles and rings a bell. “Listen up folks. The next round’s on Battle.”
The bar breaks out in applause. Patrons take turns thanking Battle and slapping him on the shoulder. His jaw clamps tights. The blonde says something, only I can’t hear her over all the hootin’ and hollerin’.
My satisfaction disappears when Battle shoves the blonde from his lap and wrenches his hand around my wrist. I feel like a human pinball as he pushes through the crowd, dragging me behind him. He keeps going until we’re outside in front of the bar.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he asks, letting go of my wrist. I rub the spot where his hand was and keep my head down. “Your little stunt isn’t cute.”
“Yeah, well, neither is the skanky blonde,” I scream in his face.
He stalks toward me, an irate expression on his gorgeous face. I back up until I run out of room. His large arms cage me in against the wall as I inhale and hold my breath while my heart tries to escape my chest.
“You’re jealous!”
I’m beyond jealous. I passed jealous once I sat down next to him. I’m hurt.
“I am not,” I exhale. “You’re rude and insensitive.”
“I’m rude and insensitive?” he huffs. His eyes narrow as he dips his head to meet my gaze. “Twenty minutes ago you were tellin’ me how my dyin’ mother is unfit to be a parent.”
I turn my head to avoid his intolerable wounded expression. “I didn’t mean it,” I say quietly.
My eyes sting, but I will not cry again. Tears are proof I have feelings for him, and I don’t want him to know.
“Sure you did, sweetheart.” His indignant laugh stirs my guilt. “You simply feel like shit for sayin’ it out loud.”
“I do feel like shit. Okay? I regret what I said.” My palms sting when I slap into his solid chest. Like a brick wall, he doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry, but stop fuckin’ punishin’ me!”
A twisted look of concern flashes over his features. He squeezes the sides of my face. I want him to let go. The pain reflecting back at me in his beautiful eyes is too much to bear. He holds tight, and with a tortured voice says, “It’s not you I’m punishin’, sweetheart.”
My knees buckle when he lets go of me. Before I can catch my breath, he disappears inside. I slide down the wall and hug my bent legs to my chest. A fight brews between my brain and my heart. My brain knows Battle doesn’t fit into my future plans, but my heart will go to war to keep him in my life. There’s the truth I’ve been too afraid to admit. I may have given him my body willingly, but he stole my heart.
“Oh, my God! Are you okay?” Ginger yells. Her heels clank loudly into the concrete as she runs toward me. I nod faintly and stand up.
“I have to do somethin’.” I can’t look at her or I’ll cry. “Will you come with me?”
