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Alexis
The weekendwith the girls didn’t turn out the way I thought it was going to. Not even close.
Once Kora settled down and stopped bragging about her adventures, the rest of the weekend was mellow. We spent Saturday afternoon at the spa, soaking in mud and having our toenails painted. Kendall and Kora snuck off for a couple’s massage while the rest of us went to an early dinner. When they finally returned to the hotel room, both tipsy from champagne, we all dressed up and went out to the only club in town.
Considering we were in the middle of nowhere, the casino being the hub of the city, I was shocked when we walked in and found the place so alive. Bass was vibrating the floor and sweaty bodies gyrated against each other on the dance floor. Which is where Piper and I spent the rest of the night.
Laughing and dancing. Surrounded by our friends. Having the time of our lives.
At that moment, nothing mattered except what song was going to play next. I was having the time of my life.
Until I wasn’t.
An eerie feeling fell over me. One I couldn’t identify but also couldn’t shake. I checked my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed a call from Micah. We’d spoken briefly before we left for the club. He didn’t like the idea of us going without someone to protect us. I laughed at the time, but now I was worried he might be right.
“You okay?” Piper screams in my ear over the music.
“Yeah, just hot. I need some water.” I don’t want to worry my friends for no reason. Especially Piper. I’ve given her enough to worry about the past month with the ups and downs I’ve had. No need to add ‘crazy’ to the list.
Because that’s what I feel like right now. Like I’m going crazy. I feel eyes on me, but I’ve checked my surroundings. No one’s paying us any attention. We’ve commandeered our own little corner of the dance floor, away from the rest of the crowd.
“Want me to come with you?” she asks.
“If you want. I can always bring you back a bottle.”
She gives me a thumbs-up, continuing to bump her hip against Lo’s to the beat of the music.
As soon as I reach the bar, I regret going alone. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing and a sense of fear washes over me. The last time I felt this uncomfortable—
“Well, if it isn’t little Alexis Peterson. Prodigal daughter. Looking sexy as ever,” he slurs.
I can feel his breath on my cheek. He’s leaning in close enough for me to smell the cigarettes and booze. Before I can pull myself together, the bartender approaches and gives me an apologetic look.
“Take a step back, John. She’s not interested,” he says, his voice stern, but I don’t miss the hint of humor behind his tone.
He knows him. By first name. Well enough to find it funny that he’s harassing me.
“Don’t worry about it, Bill. We know each other, don’t we, Alexis?” When his hand lands on my forearm my fight or flight instinct finally kicks in.
“Don’t fucking touch me, you creep.” My words are laced with hatred as I yank my arm from his grasp. “I told you last time if you ever touched me again, I would make you regret it.”
“Oh, yeah? What the fuck are you going to do? Run to mommy and daddy and tell on me? Like they would even believe you. They didn’t last time.”
“Fuck you!”
“John, I think—”
“Shut the fuck up, Bill. I can handle this little bitch. I’ve known her since before she grew into her breasts.”
Crossing my arms over my chest to hide my cleavage, I attempt to take a step away from him, bumping into another customer who’s watching our exchange with interest.
I try to look around John to see where my friends are, to get their attention, but he’s blocking my view. His large frame seems to have gotten even bigger with the passing of time. Not in a good way, either. He’s bulked up a bit, mostly fat. His gut is held in place by the dirty, white T-shirt he has tucked into the front of his jeans which are also covered in dirt.
His once chocolate brown hair is graying at the sides. On some men, it would be attractive. On John... it ages him. Or it could be the wrinkles and dark spots around his eyes.
“Is there a problem here?” I hear a friendly, male voice ask from behind me.
I don’t recognize it, but I also don’t care. The bartender isn’t going to help me, and I don’t have anyone else who can help me right now.
