Torn - Part 1: The Torn Series (2 page)

“You’re one to talk, Sweaty Tits McGee.” They laughed, and I smiled with them over my glass. How could they be so relaxed? My fingers itched to start playing. I wanted to tune my bass for the fiftieth time that day but all our gear was next to the stage.

By the time we were setting up our equipment and preparing to start, I felt ready to explode. I plucked a few notes and scanned the crowd once more, trying to spot anyone I knew.
Nope.
Well, a few friends of Jen and Robin were out there, but they didn’t count.

I
was
hoping Tyler would show up. I mean, we’d broken up, sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t come and support me as a friend.

Especially considering that we’d dated for four years before the breakup two months ago - that was a lot of time to just throw away.

More especially considering we still lived together.

We practically
had
to be friends.

He had no choice, dammit.

But he still wasn’t there as we launched into our first song - a punked-up cover of You Drive Me Crazy. The crowd was on their feet and dancing in front of the stage as soon as they recognized the song. Jen liked to think we were making art, making statements about pop music and who-the-hell knows what else. I think people liked it just because they already knew the lyrics and could sing along.

We transitioned straight into Bad Romance next, followed by Everybody, with Jen screaming the insipid lyrics into the microphone while I stomped back and forth across the stage. If nothing else, having the bass in my hands with my fingertips dancing across the strings brought me a sort of peace and satisfaction that nothing else did. Shitty pop songs aside, of course.

Still no sign of Tyler.

Bastard.

There was a group of what looked like single guys right at the front of the crowd, though. They must have been new arrivals as we hadn't noticed them before. I nodded to Jen during a drum break in the song, who then shot a big grin and a wink to Robin over her shoulder. The girls wanted to get their flirt on tonight, and now they wouldn't have to relocate to do so.

I wasn't so interested. We screamed our way through Waterfalls and one of the guys tugged at the hem of my skirt as the song ended. "I can teach you how to really play that thing, sweetheart, come on down here."

I suddenly wished the bar kept more bouncers inside instead of just the one large dude at the front door.

I pushed his hand away with my foot, knowing very well how intimidating my boots were. "Why don't you go on home and play acoustic Wonderwall for your high school girlfriend." I'm more sarcastic than I need to be sometimes. It's a gift and a curse.

His friends hooted at him and laughed but he just turned red. If he said anything else, I didn't hear it. I'd already turned away and started our next song.

The guys were still there when our set was over five songs later, and I caught the condescending skirt-tugger eying me angrily as I packed up my gear. What the hell was his problem, anyway? So what if I said something sarcastic and embarrassed him in front of his friends, he was the one who'd started it.

I followed Robin and Jen to the bar. Still no Tyler. I guessed that meant he wasn't coming at all. Maybe he was out with his buddies, or worse, off on a date. Either way it meant traveling home alone for me.
Great. What a jerk.

I guess it hadn't quite sunk in yet that we were over. I kept expecting to see him, to hear from him. I was young and excited to be in the big city and dressed up real sexy - he should have
wanted
to be with me. What was his damn problem?

A rough hand brushed my elbow, stopping me. "Hey, great show."

"Thanks," I mumbled before looking up. The man stood leaning casually back against the bar. Even so, I could tell he was tall. And built, but not huge in that bodybuilder gym addict way. No, in a very nice way - one that made me stare a little longer than was appropriate. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were in the dim lighting, but they were bright, and his lopsided smile was sexy as hell. There was a dark spot on his cheekbone that I assumed was a bruise, but it did nothing to mar his handsome appearance. If anything it just gave him an alluring air of danger.

There was something familiar about him, too.

I licked my lips.
Tyler who?
"We're playing again next weekend, too."

"Here?" he asked.

"No." My brain was not catching up.

"Where, then?"

"Mal, you're scaring her." A blond that I hadn’t even noticed touched his arm. She looked like she was hanging off some other guy, though, so I forced myself to quit pursing my lips like I had any claim on this dude after exchanging a sentence and a half.

He laughed. "Am I scaring you, punk girl?"

Mal…Jen’s brother, Surly…
“You’re Mallet!”

“Yeah,” he said, “Didn’t think you recognized me.”

I blushed.
That means he remembers me.
“It was tough without the ice pack.”

“He’s got a shirt on this time, too,” the man with the blond girl said. It was Surly - I didn’t recognize him until he turned around.

“So this was your first show with the band?” Mallet asked.

“Very first. I was a little nervous but I thought it went pretty well.” I had to stop myself from rambling. I wanted to mention how I wasn’t happy with the sound system in the place but I refrained.

"I thought you guys sounded great." He lifted his drink in a friendly salute.

Jen and Robin chose that moment to interrupt, the bitches. They pushed a shot glass into my hands, oblivious of the fact that I was talking to anyone. Jen acknowledged her brother with barely a nod. "Cheers to your first show!" Robin announced.

"You are officially a Mistress!" Jen clinked her tiny glass against my own before throwing her head back and swallowing the contents in one gulp. I did the same - and nearly spat it back out.

"What the fuck was that?" I blurted, covering my mouth. I'd be tasting licorice for a week.

"Jägermeister!" They both said, cackling, then Robin punched my shoulder. "Didn't anyone ever tell you you find out what you're drinking before you toss it back?"

"I thought you were my friends," I said with a mock pout.

"You punk bitches are cruel, that shit’s nasty." I'd almost forgotten about Mallet after the shocking shot. They turned to him with raised eyebrows that quickly melted into sly grins.

"Why don't you get our girl something sweet to get that taste out of her mouth?" Jen asked.

He turned to me. "Something sweet? Or something salty?"

I could feel my cheeks turn bright red. The girls taunted me and jabbed me with their fingers, and their blond friend said, "Mal!" like she was outraged, and he just kept his eyes on me and bit his damn sexy lip.

I wished then, for just a fleeting moment, that I didn't live with my ex who I hadn't quite accepted as my ex yet. I wished for a moment that I could order a "something salty" and then climb him like a tree. This punk getup was supposed to make me braver and bolder.

So much for that. My feet trembled with the need to flee.
Still the same old high-strung Alexa under all this makeup
.

"I've got to go."

Jen and Robin made noises of protest but I ducked away before they could grab me. I scurried off to grab my guitar case and then made my way to the stairs.

"Call you tomorrow, girly!" Robin called after me, and I waved with a tight smile over my shoulder. They were aware of my situation with Tyler and had been surprisingly supportive when I was feeling sensitive about it.

The narrow stairs were a tight squeeze with all the people coming and going and the upstairs bar was much more crowded. People were packed in elbow to elbow in the narrow space, every stool occupied, groups of people standing in every open spot with little regard for passing traffic.
Disappointing
. All those people and they'd rather listen to the bartender's mp3 playlist than the live music show happening right downstairs. I sighed and slithered my way towards the front door.

“Excuse me, pardon me,” I recited, until someone in a blue polo shirt with a popped collar stopped in front of me and wouldn’t budge. I looked up.
Fabulous.
It was the douchebag I’d called out onstage. “I’m leaving,” I said, “Please let me by.”

“Let me carry that for you,” he said, his mouth twisted in a nasty smirk. I looked behind him and didn’t see his buddies anywhere.
Guess this is a solo harassment mission.
Damn Tyler. Guys didn’t bother me like this when he was around. Not because he was particularly intimidating. Only because they seemed to lose interest when I had some other guy’s stink on me. It was lame as hell.

“I don’t need any help, thank you.”

“Don’t be a bitch, I’m being nice.” He made a grab for the case on my back but instead managed to grab a tit. My tit,
my
damn tit, one of the two attached to
me.
Right there in the bar, he grabbed
my
fucking tit, and laughed about it.

I was so enraged I could barely conjure up words.“You did not just do that,” I spat, casting my eyes around for any witnesses. Not a soul was looking my way.

“It was an accident,” he said, barely getting the lie out as he snickered. “Let me carry your shit for you.” He grabbed at me again.

I ducked and backed away - right into a solid wall.

A solid wall of muscle, that is.

“She said she doesn’t need help.” It was Mallet. Had he followed me? Maybe he was just leaving, too.

Polo shirt guy stood up straighter, puffing out his chest. “It’s none of your business, bro.”
Oh, God. Are they gonna fight right here? Am I about to witness my very first bar fight?

“Guys, I just want to go home, just let me pass, please.” Instead Mal wrapped his hands around my waist and turned me, placing me behind him, putting himself between me and the douchebag.

“You want to take this outside?” he asked.

“Please don’t take this outside,” I said, but now they were ignoring me, standing nose to nose. I felt very small all of a sudden. I wanted to scurry into a hole like a mouse. I couldn’t hear what they were hissing at each other over the noise of the bar, but from the expressions on their faces I could tell they weren’t discussing the local news.

They moved towards the exit, taunting and shoving at each other every step of the way. I followed. There was only one way out. I didn’t really want to witness this fight that I’d somehow managed to start, but on the other hand, hell yes I wanted to see, what girl would willingly miss it? I watched with mixed fascination and horror as they grappled their way out the door, across the sidewalk, and to the curb. The bouncer watched from his stool near the entrance with only mild interest.

Before I could even see how he’d done it, the man in the polo shirt was on his ass in the street with Mallet towering over him. In the brighter lights of the streetlights and the storefronts I could see his face a little clearer - that was definitely a bruise on his cheekbone, and a big ugly one at that.

Polo Shirt started to stand and was promptly shoved right back down. When he tried to stand again, Mal delivered a swift punch to his ribs that left him gasping for breath. “That’s just a taste, pal. Don’t make me break your face.” This time the man remained on the asphalt, coughing and struggling for breath.

Mal came back to where I stood next to the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I rubbed my arms. “Is he?”

“He’ll live. I didn’t break anything.” He said it with such confidence. Fair enough, I guess he really knew what he was doing.

Mal looked me up and down like he was considering… something. I hadn’t forgotten about his comment downstairs and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “What?”

“What train are you taking?”

I squinted, as if that would help me see through him and into his head. “Why?”

“Because it’s late and it’s quiet. I’ll walk you.”

“Riley!” Robin burst from the bar, squealing my name and interrupting my conversation with Mal for the second time that night. “Damn, girl. We thought we saw that jerk following you.”
Correction. Two jerks.
I kept that comment to myself. She gaped at the man on his ass in the bus lane. He seemed to have caught his breath but was reluctant to stand just yet. He looked a little dazed.

Jen appeared next. She was all over me in a flash, checking to make sure I was okay like a worried mother hen. I laughed and tried to push her off, but it was sort of nice being fussed over. My own mother was never much for making a fuss, to say the least.

“I’m fine!” I assured her repeatedly, glancing over her shoulder. Robin was exchanging words with Mal, pushing our little buisness card into his hands, and a pang of jealousy flashed through me. Was she giving him her number? Fair enough, I was still hung up on Tyler, but come on, I saw him first! He started a fight for me! Didn’t that mean I at least had imaginary dibs?