Hanging on (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2) (36 page)

I was crying and shaking my head no. "I want out of here. I want out of here!"

William climbed into the bed with me. It was a squeeze, but I didn’t care.

"You gotta calm down, baby. You're not hurt. You were slipped a roofie. Well, actually, Lump was slipped a roofie, and you got the benefit of it. "

"What? Why would someone slip—was it that douche?"

He chuckled. "Yes, it was John. After we took you outside I beat on him until he told me. Good thing the officer that showed up was a family friend..."

"But...why? They had already… you know…"

"Well...it's starting to look like he drugged her then, too. She doesn't know for sure, but she remembers being at his house for a couple glasses of wine, she hadn't eaten all day, and the next thing she knew she was drunk. She doesn't even remember the actual sex, but figured the next morning she just went further than she’d intended. Apparently she has bad taste in men..."

"Always has had, yes. She is so used to guys that fight all the time because of her family that she goes for violent idiots then makes bad choices. She has never been roofied, though. Me, either. It sucks! Do you know if...if they...well, if he used... protection?"

 "I didn't ask—that is more information then I care to hear, Jess, but she blurted out that she saw a used...you know...on the ground the next day. She needs to hang around men more—girlfriends might share everything, but her men friends do not want to hear it."

He turned up his nose in disgust. I hugged onto him and burrowed myself into his arm and chest. There we stayed, him not as comfortable as he could have been, me hating my surroundings and wanting to leave immediately. Once asleep, though, we stayed that way until a nurse woke us up in the morning.

Once again, I showed up at Gladis's house with another story to tell. She was starting to think I was danger prone. Moose was convinced that I was the reason a guy should never marry a girl that is too pretty. Too much drama.

He then made me promise not to tell his girlfriend when he realized how the comment came out. While sweet, it did make me think about the bad news that had befallen me since I moved here. It seemed it was just one big, dramatic thing after another.

 Lump was the bearer of apologies. I, in turn, was the model of forgiveness. I told her to stop bringing tools around, though. Stop dating them full-stop, actually. Yeah, Adam might be scary from time to time—or, one time—but he didn't hit and he certainly didn't date rape. He even had the opportunity to go all the way with permission and he didn't take the chance. Not many guys could boast that.

Lump agreed, but made me promise not to mention Adam any more. It wasn't going to happen, so stop embarrassing her, him, and myself. I threw a “but” in there, but was silenced with a no-nonsense look.

Fine.

After that episode it was a waterfall of dating. Lump had a new guy every week almost. Often she was dating a couple guys at a time, not sleeping with any one until they were together for at least two weeks, which only happened once. 

 A few were really good looking, some not so much. Some were overly nice, some hard asses. Some had manners, some must have been bread amongst pigs. No two were alike. Everyone was always really nice to the dates, but no one got too aquatinted knowing the man of the week would inevitably be replaced.

Winter rumbled in and Christmas loomed. It was starting to get nervous about what I would get William for Christmas. I wasn’t in to arts and crafts, so wouldn’t be making anything, and he didn’t need someone to buy him anything. It was the conundrum that was always on my mind.

Except tonight. Tonight, our normal Friday happy hour to let off steam from the work week, we’d finally get to meet Adam’s new lady.

He’d been with her a couple weeks, knew her from their circle of rich people, and never opened his trap about her other than to say she was a decent lady and I’d like her. He said it, but his face wasn’t selling it. I was nervous.

“Is he bringing her?” I asked Brad, who was now around as much as Moose and Adam.

“Who’s bringing who?” Brad leaned back and scratched his head.

“Adam. Is he bringing the
girlfriend?
”

Brad shrugged.

“Is that her?” Lump asked, taking a seat across from me at the table. We were in the back of the large bar, taking up a few booths. As such, I wasn’t worried about being seen, so I basically crawled up the back of the booth to get a look.

“Is Adam wearing a silk shirt?” I gasped.

“At least its deep blue,” Lump said, a furrow to her brow. “He sweats, though. He’s going to look ridiculous at the end of the night.”

I turned around and stared at Lump. “He is wearing a silk shirt, Lump. This is
Adam
we are talking about.”

“Where’s his thick gold chain?” Brad scoffed.

“Exactly!” I shook my head and turned back.

“That must be the new girl,” Brad said, nodding his head toward a tiny woman basically pressed against Adam’s side.

“The small one?” Lump asked, elongating her neck to get a look.

“It’s like a pixy with the jolly green giant.” I couldn't help but laugh. She literally was half his size and incredibly dainty, her straight yellow hair coiffed perfectly around her face.

“She’s cute.” Brad shrugged.

“Eh.” I waved the comment away.

“Stop being so haughty. She’s cute. You just don’t like her because she’s competition.”

“She’s not competition.” Was she? Did William prefer the small, sweet, delicate types?

“He doesn’t,” Lump said, reading my mind before going back to her beer with an indifferent look.

“He doesn’t what?” Brad asked.

“Jess was wondering if William wanted one of those types of girls instead of her.”

“Oh no way,” Brad said, “That’s not at all what I was talking about. You’re hands down hotter. I’m just saying that women think other women are competition.”

“You need to hang out with more quality women,” Lump reflected.

It was then that Adam joined us. He stood behind Lump with his girl lightly pulled into his body. She barely came up to his chest.

“Jessica, may I introduce you to Elise?” Adam asked politely, and completely unlike himself.

“Uh…sure?”

“Eloquent response,” Lump muttered at me with a smirk.

“Jessica, this is my friend Elise. Elise, this is Jessica, William’s girlfriend.”

Since when did Adam call William by his full name?

“Charmed,” the pixie said, nodding delicately.

Charmed?

“
Hi. Nice to have you join us.” I nodded. I probably should have stood up…but I didn’t. Too lazy.

“You know Brad, of course,” Adam continued.

Was it just me, or was Adam trying to speak with less of an accent, and with more literature approved sentences and words? Where was the
ain’t
I knew and loved?

“Yes. Hello Bradley.”

Bradley?

Lump smiled wickedly and looked up at Brad through her eyelashes. Brad noticed and turned a fantastic shade of tomato-red.

“And this is Betsy, but we call her Betz.”

Lump did a quick eye-roll, but stood up, turned with the grace of a ballerina, and extended her hand. She
dwarfed
Elise in both height, grace and beauty! Plus, if all else failed, she could totally kick her ass. I was proud of my friend.

“Hello Betsy.” Elise nodded her head slightly and smiled.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I would prefer to be called Betz or Lump. I got picked on often as a child with the name Betsy.”

“Oh!” It was more a breath than a word. Elise put her hand to her chest as if she insulted royalty and couldn’t bear it. “I do so apologize!

Lump smiled. “Think nothing of it.”

“But… Lump?”

Lump smiled again. “Would you care to sit down? I will tell you the story.”

Adam was looking at Lump like she was a puzzle. It seemed like he sensed a trick. Being that he also didn’t want to separate from his woman for some reason, he pulled the chair out for Elise, which she expected, then sat beside her. Brad nodded in welcome.

Lump settled back down and explained, “I hated my name since I was old enough to know it. My mother loved it for some completely unknown reason, and my two brothers thought it was the most terrible name on the planet. My father hated it, too, which allowed my brothers to get away with all the name-calling. One day, when I was old enough to fight back, though still not big enough to win, I gave my oldest brother the meanest black-eye anyone could remember. My father was so proud of me for fighting back—for giving my brother the lump he deserved—I was called Lump by everyone in the dojo. I wore it like a badge of pride. And because I also hated my real name, I kept that name.”

“My goodness—quite a violent past,” Elise responded, hand still to her heart.

Lump kept herself from looking at Adam, but I didn’t. He was slightly ridged and definitely uncomfortable. But holding.

“First time I heard that story,” I said to cut the tension.

"And here I always thought you more curious than that," Brad reflected.

“I didn’t realize,” Adam said around his woman, ignoring Brad and me. “I should be calling you Lump.”

Lump shrugged. “Betz is fine. Doesn’t sound so bad with a twang.” She laughed, ignoring Adam’s sorrowful eyes. “Plus, if I told Gladis not to call me Betz she’d throw a cup at me.”

“
Another
cup at you,” I added, laughing with her.

“Speaking of cups. Adam? Would you be so kind as to get me a drink?” Elise asked.

“O’course,” Adam said, jumping up immediately. “Would anyone else care for a drink?”

“I would
care
for one a great deal, thank you, sir,” Brad responded with a grin.

Adam flashed Brad a frown, which had Brad rethinking his taunting.

“Yes Adam, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would also greatly care for a drink. Thank you, kindly,” I wasn't worried about taunting in the least.

“Yes please, Adam. Thanks,” Lump said without a hint of mocking in her voice, but with that wicked twinkle in her eye.

Adam walked away, shaking his head.

“So, what do you do, Elise?” Lump started.

“Oh, I do a lot of charity work. I am also the head planner for fund raisers at my social club. It keeps me busy!”

So… she had a ton of money, then. Didn’t need to work. Figured. Adam slummed it with us poor gals, talked about working hard, but for girlfriend material he went for the wealthy. It was a reminder I didn’t need or want. It was a different world, and even stinkin’ Adam was in it.

And here I’d thought he’d been on my side! Double-standard!

I got a glare from Lump. She was too good by far at reading my insecurities.

The night progressed in polite words and subtle eye rolls. I was trying my damnedest to like Adam’s girl, but we had absolutely nothing in common. I mean, the girl liked needle point! What the hell was the point in making pictures on a piece of fabric? For pillows? Who did that outside of Jane Austen?

Lump hated her, too, but was the model of politeness. She chatted amicably and came up with conversation when everyone else was stumped. And because of it, Adam brought Elise to Lump every chance he could.

Adam was never much of a conversationalist, preferring to joke or just sit in silence—he called it sitting at rest. But his woman thought that rude, and since he was doing everything in his power to please her, including following her around like a servant, getting her drinks, napkins, or whatever the hell else she wanted, he constantly steered the little woman to Lump. He wasn’t even shy about it—he was relieved someone could figure out what to talk to her about.

Besides that, he only said “ain’t” once. It was that once that made him the laughing stock of the group.

Brad
,
Lump and I were sitting at our designated table. William was chatting with Lump’s man, who didn’t need his hand held 24/7 and was actually kind of cool for once—he’d been around about two and a half weeks—over at the bar, and Adam had just come over with Elise. Elise chose a chair next to me, stood behind it, and waited until Adam came over to pull it out for her. The deal seemed to be that she would have a gentleman or Adam would lose his balls. Adam was complying as best he could.

Since Elise was at the end of the table, Adam went to the other side and sat next to Lump. They’d been in each other’s presence all night, since Lump was apparently Elise’s babysitter, but they’d never sat next to each other, by design. Keeping his woman happy changed even that.

“Those boys are discussing
bulls,
” Elise said by way of greeting in her elevated southern accent. “I tried to hang in for as long as was polite, but it is a dangerous past-time. I just couldn’t continue to listen to Willie speaking about it. I just don’t know how his parents let him keep on with it.”

“Oh now, it ain’t that bad,” Adam responded, picking at his beer label uncomfortably.

It was like the air turned solid; thick with expectation. I knew that Adam would have rather stayed with William and talked bulls. I also knew that Adam had done something wrong. The former because Adam kept glancing over in longing. The latter because Elise was looking at Adam fixedly.

It took a second before Adam caught on. When he did, he looked at her like a whipped dog. “Beggin’ your pardon for the slang,” He apologized.

Following her around like a puppy was one thing. Moving chairs and getting things might be necessary to get some pu-nawny, so I didn’t begrudge him that. But this had just gotten out of hand. It seemed like Adam was trying to convince us all he was just as polite and delicate as the girl he brought around, and castrating himself in the process.

I couldn’t explain my anger—I didn’t even know where it welled up from. It might have been that Adam always, without question, stood up for me. Maybe it was that he protected me, and looked after me, like I was his blood instead of his friend’s girlfriend. Or maybe I just didn’t like what this woman represented because it was everything I was not.