I placed four bottles on the bar and took the bills the man handed me, entering them to the cash register and shoving his change into the tip jar. I lifted my head, looking through the visor of my baseball cap and catching someone ask for a glass of Johnnie Walker. On the rocks. Another called out for a Long Island Iced Tea. One yelled for a Sazerac. And I caught from the corner of my eye Mindy holding up an empty bucket.
Quickly memorizing the orders, I moved along the bar to gather all the necessities. I grabbed the bucket from Mindy and filled it with ice before shoving five beer bottles in. I slid it by her and started mixing the cocktails, relying on muscle memory and plain routine to swiftly serve the drinks. I placed the glasses on the bar and called out the orders, taking their payment. By the time I closed the cash register, I already caught eight more orders.
I glanced at MJ as he stood on the other side of the bar. Instead of taking orders, he was hitting on a light skinned chick who I could clearly see had pierced nipples through her skin tight tube top that could have been a freaking headband. I grabbed a cluster ice cubes and threw them at MJ. He jumped as the ice bit into his bare back.
"Fuck her on your own time, jackass!" I yelled over the horrendous music the band was playing. "I'm getting swamped here! Fuck!"
He flashed me an unapologetic grin before taking a series of orders in quick succession, calling out each one. I canceled out the ones he mentioned and took the ones he missed from the crowd. It went on that way for most of the night. Me taking the first sequence of orders I heard and sliding each glass towards them. Busting out some tables during slow intervals. Making a stop to any ensuing bar fights. Kicking out underaged dumbasses who thought their pimple riddled faces and pubescent odor would go unnoticed.
It was the weekend and Viktor came in earlier tonight to collect half of the month's beer earnings. I had to make the introductions between him and Alex since he'll be managing everything when I left by the end of summer. I also still had to conduct a general meeting with the staff about his position since, according to him, they respected a rat more than him.
I decided to stay after the business meeting with Viktor since I'd rather do something than stalk outside the hospital while waiting for Rick to clock out. It's what I've been doing ever since we got back from Cabo. Following him around like a creep. It was pathetic, but I had to make sure Father's pets weren't bothering him. Or at least that's what I kept telling myself.
I was drenched in sweat, the summer heat becoming a burden even in the night. The bar was packed tight with patrons tonight and the AC could barely blow enough air to breathe for everyone. By midnight my thin camisole was sticking to my skin. MJ was already shirtless beside me and I decided to fuck it as I stripped my top off. The bar was dim lit enough that my fresh scars and bruises weren't so visible and I was hidden behind the bar. As long as I kept my cap on and my head down, a scandal about me wasn't going to break out tomorrow.
"Christ, Red. Put a shirt on," MJ bit out.
"Forgot to bring a spare," I muttered as I wiped at my sweat.
He rolled his eyes and tended back to his side while I dealt with men obviously ogling my chest. I ignored them and just kept my head down as I took their orders. A few lame ass pickup lines were thrown in here and there, and I would just force a laugh. The upside of it all was the attention meant more orders and more orders meant good business. I was willing to strip for a good cause. As long as they didn't touch. Then I'd have to beat them with a baseball bat.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I heard the last voice I wanted to hear tonight.
I stilled from mixing a drink.
It's been four nights that I denied myself the only time I get to have him. But just because I didn't sneak into his bed every night didn't mean I never went to him, but all I was able to do was stand outside his door, battling with myself.
I knew what I was doing was selfish. It wasn't fair for him that I was using him every night and I knew I was hurting him, no matter how much he claimed it was enough. That's why I stopped. Because the last fucking thing I wanted was to fucking hurt him.
Now he's here. Is this a fucking joke?
"You're supposed to be banned," I said flatly as I went back to my work.
"Mindy let me in."
Of course she did. The dumb kid was crushing on him these days and would not shut up about how hot he was in scrubs, calling him McHottie or some shit.
I sighed, keeping my head down while serving orders. "What do you want, Rick?"
"Take a wild guess, gorgeous," he spat before jumping over the counter.
I took a step back when he stalked towards me, cornering me against him and the bar. If looks could kill, I would have been butchered to death with his glare.
I had no fucking idea what to do. Instincts told me to run the hell away, but my boots felt like two cement blocks around my feet and there was just too much shit to do to bail. I already had plans dammit. I didn't need this shit right now.
He snatched the camisole slung over my shoulder and muttered a curse when he realized it was soaked with sweat. He tossed it aside and shrugged off his jacket while I stared at him with wide eyes. He stripped off his scrubs along with the long sleeved tee underneath it, leaving him in his white singleton that clung to him like second skin. My eyes widened even more.
"What the hell, babe?"
He threw the shirt at me while I just kept staring at him, unsure of what to do. The patrons were yelling out complaints and was cursing at Rick.
"Fuck off before I kick your asses!" he yelled at them so angrily I was scared he'd kick my ass. He turned to me, glaring furiously. "Put the damn shirt on."
I blinked and looked at the shirt in my hand before mindlessly pulling it on. I didn't get to have my head wrapped around what was happening because he started dragging me out of the bar and to his car. He shoved me into the passenger seat and before I could argue, he was in the driver's seat and going at a speed that made me wonder if he was trying to kill us both.
"Sweetheart, you should slow down," I said cautiously. "I don't mind dying, but you-"
"Shut up."
I pursed my lips and obliged as the heels of my boots dug into the floor of the car. When we stopped to a screeching halt outside his building, I briefly contemplated on running away now, but as if he could hear my thoughts, he marched out of the car and came to drag me out, holding my hand in deathly grip as he practically hauled me into the building.
We stood in the elevator in complete silence. A teenage boy stood behind us, carrying a box of pizza while bobbing his head along the music he was listening to through his headphones. I could hear it. It was some loud shit that had more screaming than singing.
The doors slid open and Rick tugged at our twined hands as he walked out of the lift, leading the way to his flat. He slipped his hand out of mine as he fished out his keys and opened the door. Stepping aside, he gestured a hand for me to get in. I sucked in a deep breath, letting one booted foot in and then the other. Rick followed behind, locking the door with an audible click.
We stood there for a moment, looking at anything and anywhere, but each other. The last time I was here, I had obsessively cleaned his entire apartment and cooked him dinner before bailing like a domesticated Santa Claus who left a trail of freshly washed laundry instead of presents.
He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. "So…"
"So..." I mimicked, tugging at my braid.
"Drink?"
"Uh, beer. If you have it."
He nodded and marched purposely towards the kitchen. I surveyed his apartment for a moment. There were already empty take out boxes and beer cans stacked on the center table, and clothes strewn all over the place.
Unable to bear with the chaos, I started cleaning up the mess. I took care of his laundry first, going to the bathroom and throwing them in the washing machine, not caring to separate them.
I went back to the living room and gathered the trash, taking them to the kitchen. He watched me as he fixed two plates of sandwiches while I looted for the trashbags.
"My god, can you stop cleaning?" I heard him say from behind me.
"Unorganized and unclean spaces fuck with my head," I muttered, dumping all the trash in the bag.
I glanced at the sink. It was already overflowing with dirty dishes.
"Don't even think about it." He took the bag from my hands and handed me a beer can. "Come on. Bear Grylls is on."
I followed him to the living room and we just sipped on our beer and ate our sandwich in silence as we sat on the couch. I didn't know why he dragged me over here and I didn't know why I didn't stop him. I couldn't even begin to comprehend why I was sitting on his couch and watching an episode of Man vs. Wild with him, and honestly, I didn't care. But it really was getting pretty fucking awkward.
"Why am I here, Rick?" I finally asked.
He sighed, dragging a hand through his overgrown hair. He hasn't shaved either and I felt the urge to groom him. This was all Jude's fault. He was so damn neat and would have a bitch fit if I didn't brush my hair or properly segregated the trash that my subconscious had associated mess and disorder with annoyance.
"When Mindy texted me and said you were at the bar, I practically counted the seconds till my shift was over," Rick was muttering. "I didn't really have a plan when I went over there."
"Since when did you and Mindy become BFF's?" I muttered dryly.
"I kinda gave her my number so she could text me if you're ever at the bar," he admitted grudgingly.
I pursed my lips, nodding. "You're stalking me."
He grimaced. "If you didn't hide from me so much, I wouldn't have to."
It was my turn to grimace.
"I'm not hiding."
He snorted, taking a swig of his beer. "You're never out and if you are, you're either at the bar or going to clubs with Andrea."
"Only once!" I defended.
"Yeah? Did you fuck her?"
I pursed my lips, shame and guilt coming over me. "If I didn't, I would've done something worse."
He scoffed. "Sure."
"It didn't mean anything."
"It does to me."
I groaned, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes as I leaned back. "I'm sorry. I just… I was just so fucked up over the proposal and you wouldn't the fuck out of my head."
"You should have come to me then."
"I couldn't. I shouldn't even be here." I let out a harsh breath, gripping fistfuls of my hair. "Fuck. It's hard enough to stay away. I can't keep leaving you too. It's fucking killing me."
"Then don't stay away," he said, taking my arms and pulling me to him. "Don't leave anymore. Stop being a fucking coward and just be with me."
"Rick, please," I whispered, trying to pull away but he wouldn't let go. "Don't be cruel."
"I'm being cruel?" he hissed, tightening his hold on my arms. "You're breaking my heart, and I'm cruel?"
I opened my eyes and instantly regretted it at the sight of pain brimming within his.
"I'm sorry," I cried, reaching up to hold his face. "I'm so sorry."
He sighed harshly, pulling me onto his lap and holding me. "I'm going insane, baby," he said. "I can't keep convincing myself that this is all I want. It's not fair that you just come to me when you need me and leave when you don't. It has to stop. I don't want to wonder if you're coming tomorrow night. I don't want to keep waking up alone. I don't want to keep losing you." He tightened his arms around me. "Marry him, I don't care, just be with me. Stay with me. Give me you and I'll live with it."
I gritted my teeth, holding back the urge to cry out. "I have nothing to give, sweetheart."
"I don't want anything else." He pulled back, cupping my cheeks and pressing his forehead to mine. "I just want you. Not just for a while. Not just pieces. Always. All of you."
I shook my head lightly. "You don't want all of me."
"But I do," he insisted.
"You don't."
He shook his head, taking my hands and holding them to his chest. "Be with me."
I turned my head away, unable to stand the sight of him anymore. "I can't. My father will never allow it."
He let out a harsh breath, moving me off him as he stood. He felt so far even when he was at arms' reach.
"Why should he get to tell you who you can and can't be with, Angel?" he said, angry. "Why should you let him deny you the right to be happy? Why are you letting him do this to you?"
"He's my father, Rick," I reasoned. It was all the reason that I had.
He scoffed. "He doesn't even treat you like you're his daughter! He treats you like you're some puppet that he can control and do whatever he wants to. You deserve so much more than that!"
I bent forward, clutching either side of my head. "You don't understand."
"What don't I understand? You're Angel Lastor! You don't give a shit about rules! You never listen to anyone! How come you can break the rules for everything but you can't with this?"
"Because this is different!" I snapped, rising my head to look at him. "My marriage has been a project years in the making. If I fail at this, I'll be labeled incompetent and disloyal. I could even be removed as Jude's right hand. Do you have any idea what it would be like? To lose the one thing I was born for?"
"Stop saying that! It's not true!"
"I live for Jude. That has been my truth ever since I was born."
He looked at me with disbelieving eyes, as if my words were absolutely absurd.
"You actually believe that?" he whispered. "Do you really believe your sole purpose in life is to stand in your brother's shadow and serve him without question?"
"If I don't have that, there's no point for my existence."
He shook his head, staring at me. "I refuse to accept Jude would allow you to waste your life like that. No, that's not Jude. That's... that's your father." He knelt before me, tentatively touching my face. "Don't you see what he's doing? He's controlling the both of you with this because he knows Jude can't function without you and he's manipulating your loyalty to your brother by making you do things under the illusion that it's for Jude's benefit. He's making his legacy off your back. Angel, he's a monster."
"You don't think I know that?" I said, laughing humorlessly. "I've known he's a monster ever since I was a little girl, Rick. That doesn't make him my father any less. In fact, it makes him the only person who can truly understand me. I don't just have his blood coursing through my veins. I have his monstrosity living inside me, that's why I need him. He knows how to control it. Without him, I wouldn't know how to live. I owe him my life." I looked away, hating the judgment in his eyes. "Maybe I am a puppet. Maybe he does control me. Maybe he is using me. But if I don't give him that, then what good am I for? He doesn't want me. He hates me, but he still let's me live and carry his name. The least I can do is submit to his will."
"Angel..."
He moved closer but I quickly rose to my feet, putting distance between us. I kept a smile fixed on my lips while my nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists harder.
"You don't know what it's like to be me. So don't stand there thinking that you do," I spat bitterly. "Just because you saw a glimpse of my life, doesn't mean you know everything."
He was just staring at me, as if he didn't know what to say or do.
"What?" I tilted my head, smiling. "Shocked?" I mocked. "Isn't this what you want? Me telling you my pathetic sob story? Do you want more?" I stalked towards him, standing toe to toe with him. "I have a shitload of stories to tell. Like how I got raped when I was sixteen to seal a business deal for my father."
His eyes widened while his mouth fell half open. It was precious. Pity I didn't have a camera with me.
I smirked. "He was really proud of me for that one. He told me I did well too. It made getting fucked in the ass while I was unconscious by a man forty years my senior worth it."
He drew back, staring at me almost in disbelief. I smiled.
"Have I satisfied your curiosity yet, Frederick?" I asked, tilting my head. "Or do you want me to tell you all of my rape stories? I've got tons of em. Take a pick. Most recent one was a seventy something pervert who sold his company to my father in exchange for a night with me. I gotta warn you though, it wasn't pretty."
I laughed, closing my eyes briefly to rid of the stupid tears blurring my sight. When I opened my eyes again, I caught his gaze raking over me, lingering a moment too long on the scars covering my torso.
"Do you wanna know how I got them?"
I reached for his hand, pressing his palm against my belly. I ignored the pain that came with his touch.
"I woke up one day and couldn't live with being the filthy whore I had become," I said, remembering that day so clearly. "And I just dragged the-"
He ripped his hand out of my grasp. "Stop it," he hissed, finally finding his tongue.
"Why? You can't take it? This isn't what you wanted? You asked for all of me, didn't you? You want everything, don't you?" I spread my arms, taking a step back. "This is all of me, Rick! I'm fucked up in every sense of it! I've got more demons in my head than there is in hell!"
"Stop it!"
"Stop what?!" I bit out, laughing hysterically. "Being like this? You said you want me all of me! Don't you want this too? I'm giving you everything! Is it still not enough, sweetheart?! What more could I possibly give when I have nothing to begin with! Everyone always wants more! I'm never enough! Why am I never fucking enough?!"
He let out a harsh breath, grabbing my arm and yanking me to him. I fought him off, trying to push him away, screaming for him to let me go but all he did was hold me tighter.
"It's okay. It's okay," he whispered.
"It's not okay! I'm not okay! I'm never okay!" I cried, beating my fists against his chest.
"I know. I'm sorry," he murmured while I struggled to get away from him but he wouldn't relent. "Don't fight me, baby. Don't fight. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
And that was what I was so afraid of, that he will always be here.