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"Is there a smoking area or something?" I asked, already feeling a twist of worry knot in my stomach.
"Nah, just an alley," he replied as he wiped down the bar. The casualness of his response did nothing to alleviate my concern.
I grabbed my bag and Sally’s and placed my card on the counter. "Keep it. I'll be back for it," I said, already striding toward the back door. I knew I needed to make sure Sally was okay. My heart pounded in my chest, an overwhelming sense of worry overshadowing any previous annoyance with Zach and his buddy.
Chapter 22
Tony
From my spot in the shadowed corner of the bar, my gaze tracked Jude. It was normal for me to be unable to take my eyes off of her. But in those moments, it was more than mere attraction that was causing me to stare.
Her laughter, a sound that tinkled like wind chimes in a gentle breeze, floated across the crowded room and I felt a smile tugging at my lips. She looked radiant, glowing in a way I'd never seen her glow before. But then, my attention veered to the two dudes accompanying her and Sally.
They were cocky and brimming with confidence, their smiles suave and practiced. I knew that game, hell, I'd practically invented it. As the night progressed, their moves became bolder, hands resting casually on backs and wrapping around waists, lips whispering words intended to charm.
My gut churned when one of the guys sidled closer to Jude, his hand falling on her lower back. My jaw set, and my hands balled into fists under the table. I was hit with a possessive urge so powerful, it was all I could do not to stride over there and rip his hand from her.
"Don't you think so, Tony?"
Sitting across from me was a woman any man would consider himself lucky to be with. Her name was Melissa, a total knockout pharma rep, brimming with the kind of effervescence and energy one would expect from a woman in her early twenties. Golden blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, her vivid blue eyes sparkling with youthful exuberance. She had an alluring figure, clad in a little black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places.
But she wasn’t Jude.
I glanced over at Melissa, who was looking at me expectantly. "Sorry, darling," I said, my eyes flicking back to Jude for a second, then back to her. "I got a bit distracted. What were you saying?"
She repeated her question, something about whether I preferred summer or winter, but my mind was somewhere else. Even as I gave her a stock answer, I couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of possessiveness, the powerful tug of jealousy. The Tony Montivais I knew would scoff at such sentimentality. But the man who'd shared more than a few passionate moments with Jude, the man who had tasted her lips and felt her warmth, was on the brink of a meltdown.
I sat in my corner, my fingers wrapped around my drink, my date's words washing over me like white noise. I had no right to feel that way, not after my own actions, and yet I did. I was locked in a strange dance of torment and longing, watching Jude with another man, and each beat of my heart echoed with an intensity that surprised even me.
“Tony?”
My date with Melissa was supposed to be a distraction, a way to forget Jude and the pull I felt toward her. But all it had done was to bring into sharper focus what I was missing. The youthful beauty sitting across from me was no match for the woman who'd unwittingly ensnared my heart. As the night wore on, I found my mind wandering, my eyes drawn to Jude again and again, Melissa fading into the background like one of the trendy pieces of art that decorated the walls of the bar.
"Well, are you going to tell me what's so damn fascinating at the bar?" my date huffed, crossing her arms and scowling at me. Her icy blue eyes were shooting daggers and quite honestly, I couldn't have cared less.
I flicked a glance at her before returning my gaze to the spot where Jude had disappeared moments before. "Can't say there's anything in particular," I replied, a half-smirk tugging at my lips. I knew my tone was dismissive, but frankly, I was past the point of giving a damn.
"Well, then maybe you should pay a little more attention to your date," Melissa snarled, and I blinked at her in surprise. Shaking my head, I chuckled, the sound low and humorless.
"My apologies, Melissa," I offered, not feeling an ounce of remorse for my lack of attention. I opened my mouth to offer an excuse, one that would keep her sitting across from me. However, as I tried to come up with the words, I realized that feigning interest in this young woman wasn’t possible in the slightest. There was only one person who had my attention, and she was seated at the bar with another man.
"You know what? It appears I'm just not in the mood tonight."
With that, I turned my gaze back to the bar, searching for Jude, the woman who seemed to have taken hold of me like no other ever had. I heard Melissa huff again, and the next thing I knew, she was standing, pulling her little black purse onto her shoulder.
"Well, if that's how it's going to be, I have better things to do with my time," she declared, her tone as icy as those blue eyes of hers. I offered her a nonchalant shrug and a dry, "Suit yourself," in return. I didn't even watch as she stormed away, my gaze once again firmly fixated on the bar.
Something about the scene had immediately put me on edge. Her friend Sally, who I recognized from the hospital, had been relatively composed all evening, but was now swaying slightly on her feet, her eyes a little too unfocused for someone who’d only had a couple of cocktails. As if on cue, the two schmucks who had been hanging around them all night started whispering in her ear, gesturing toward the back door.
A growl had started building in my throat. Something was off about the whole thing. Sally shouldn’t have been that drunk yet. I had been paying attention and she hadn’t had that much. What if they spiked her drink?
I pushed off from my table, leaving my untouched drink behind, and made my way toward the group as they headed to the door. If those two thought they could take advantage of Sally, they were about to learn just how wrong they were. As I made my way over, however, the familiar sight of Jude appearing from the hallway leading to the bathroom froze me in mid-step.
Once she made her way back to the bar, she spoke briefly with the bartender. I noticed her face pale, her eyes widening in what I took for alarm. Before I had time to process what was happening, she'd grabbed her bag and was heading toward the back door.
Another sudden surge of protective instinct had me moving once again, navigating quickly toward her through the crowd of patrons. I had no plan, just a gut feeling that she needed someone in her corner.
"Jude, wait," I called out, my hand extending to gently touch her shoulder.
