I had no clue what to do next. On my first look around the room, I couldn’t find Rex, although there were plenty of uglier versions of him playing pool and drinking. The place felt like a cliché working-class Irish dive, and I guessed that’s probably what it really was. Nobody bothered me, and I didn’t bother anyone else.
I looked at my phone and sipped my drink as the minutes dragged by. For what felt like a really crazy and dangerous plan was actually turning out to be really boring. I didn’t see Rex anywhere, and nobody was bothering me, which meant plenty of time to look at Facebook and pout.
The door opened and closed again, and I looked up. In walked the three guys from earlier, grinning like idiots. The chubby one caught my eye and smiled, and I quickly looked away. I inwardly kicked myself for making eye contact as he sidled on over to me. I could smell his sweat and stinky breath as he leaned in to talk over the low music coming from the jukebox.
“Need a drink, blondie?” His teeth were revolting.
“No thanks, I’m good.” I would love it if you went away, though, I thought.
He smiled and sat down next to me, still leaning in too close. “What’s your name?”
None of your fucking business, I wanted to say. “Darcy.”
“Darcy. I’m Tadd.” He caught the eye of the bartender and ordered a beer.
“I’m meeting someone here, Tadd.” I hoped that lie would make him rethink his current plan of attack, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Meeting your girlfriends here? Getting a little drunk for a Wednesday?”
“No, I’m meeting my boyfriend, so could you leave me alone?”
Tadd stared at me for a few seconds, but didn’t start laughing. This time, he leaned closer, and there was a menacing look in his eye.
“You shouldn’t be rude, Darcy,” he said. I felt the fear spike in my stomach again.
“You shouldn’t get so close to me,” I said, ready to get up and run. He leaned in even closer, his face inches away from mine. I heard the door open then shut, and could feel a few people staring at us. My entire body was pulsing with adrenaline and fear.
“What’s your problem, stuck up bitch?” he said, spit flying from his lips.
Before I could answer, another person loomed huge in our peripheral.
“Who the fuck—” Tadd started, and then caught himself. I looked up, and Rex was smiling down at me.
“Hey, Rex, what’s up man,” Tadd said, and laughed nervously. Rex looked at him with an easy smile.
“Are you bothering this lady, Tadd?” He was wearing another black T-shirt and cutoff jeans, and I had the feeling he hadn’t changed. His body was still ripped and bristling, but he had a new red mark on his eyebrow, like he’d been punched. I ran my eyes over his ripped chest and abs, and lingered over his tattoos. He was like a beacon in that grimy place, dangerous and wild but not dirty or grungy like the others.
“No, man, we’re just talking,” Tadd said, backing off and putting his hands up. Rex looked at me.
“Are you guys just talking?” he asked.
I shook my head no, but was too afraid to speak.
Rex looked back at Tadd. “Fuck off now, Tadd. Talk to this girl again, and I will hurt you. Understand?”
“Yeah, man, sorry, I’ll get outta here,” Tadd said. He stood and walked away fast, rejoining his two friends at a table across the room. I could see them talking together and throwing scared looks in our direction.
I turned back as Rex sat down on the empty stool.
“Thanks for saving me,” I said, half joking.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. Not one for small talk then, I guessed. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look very happy to see me, either.
“Just having a drink,” I said, feeling lame.
“Why this bar?”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I shrugged. He let out a deep sigh, caught the bartender’s eye, and ordered a beer.
“This place isn’t for people like you,” he said quietly. I arched my eyebrow and wondered what that was supposed to mean.
“You don’t know me.”
“No, I don’t know you. But I know your type. Pretty, blonde, rich. If you’re out slumming it for a night, I suggest finding somewhere a little safer. I won’t be around to chase off men like Tadd forever.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. On the one hand, he was insulting me, though in a strange, backhanded way. Maybe I did grow up rich, and maybe I was blonde, but I wasn’t a spoiled little brat like Marissa. I wasn’t out to slum it, either. I was there for him, and him alone, but I couldn’t say that. Although, he did seem genuinely worried about my safety, which was a good sign. Maybe a little old fashioned, but at least he seemed to be a decent guy to women.