VIOLET
I walked into the skanky bar slash roadhouse that reeked of cigars, cigarettes, beer and sweat and I instantly scrunched my nose in disgust. Yuck. This place is gross. Why am I even here? Oh, yeah, that’s right, my boyfriend who was ‘at home with the flu’, lied. Yup, I went over there with chicken soup and DayQuil, like the great girlfriend that I am, and his best friend and roommate Blake, told me Chad is here, at Deacon’s Bar & Roadhouse and not sick at all. WTF? I yelled at Blake, demanding an explanation and he had none except that he called Chad a POS boyfriend to which pissed me off but I somewhat agreed with tonight.
So, of course, I was pissed off to no end, left the soup and medicine at their apartment, jumped back into my all black 2014 Ford Mustang GT automatic and drove here in a frenzy, breaking the speed limit the whole way. I pissed off a lot of drivers on my way, some honking others flipping me off. Oops. Well, at least I didn’t get pulled over by a cop. If I got one more ticket for speeding, my parents would kill me. I’ve already gotten two in the past five months. Even though I am eighteen, and I moved out and share an apartment with my best friend Amber, if I get a speeding ticket, Mom and Dad will know.
Luckily, it is only a ten minute drive from their apartment building, although I made the drive in five minutes. Yeah, probably not smart.
I am in my black skinny jeans, my favorite black ankle boots and a red V-neck tank top with my favorite black faux leather jacket over it. This is definitely my favorite outfit. I was dressed for the movie date I was supposed to have with Chad tonight, when he canceled because he was ‘sick’. Lying asshole. I have no idea what has gotten into him, because he never used to lie to me. We are, or, used to be, very close.
Chad is that friend for years, that accidently turns into more. I have known him since I was twelve and he was thirteen, when his family moved in next door to mine. We hit it off immediately and he was my best guy friend. Then one night when I was fifteen, I came over to his house crying because my then boyfriend dumped me because he was moving.
I grew up here, in northern California, as my Mother was born and raised here. My Father is from Portland, Oregon. He moved to California at sixteen with his parents, my grandparents, when they got a new job. My parents met in high school, so they are high school sweethearts, which I think is really cool. And Ryker found out he was moving all the way to Florida and long distance is too difficult. He didn’t even want to try it.
So, anyway, I was a crying mess with mascara streaks running down my face and Chad was there for me and comforted me for hours. And that night sparked the start of what would be a sweet romance. But our relationship didn’t start that night.
At the end of the night, after he was holding me, rubbing my back, and rocking me back and forth, he gave me a long speech about how what Ryker did was shitty and I deserved better. I agreed completely. The way he looked at me that night, was different. It wasn’t brotherly like it always was. At first it scared me, but then it excited me and that sent the change in the way I looked at him too.
Then he kissed me. I kissed back and it felt really good, but I wasn’t ready for a new relationship. Then seven weeks later, just two weeks after my sixteenth birthday, we got together and the rest is history.
There are about four large pool tables with leather covers thrown on the ground, all full of drunk people making bets and laughing and joking loudly. Why would you leave your drink sitting on the pool table when it can get knocked over? Stupid. There is a busty blond sitting on the edge of one of the tables with her large -fake, I’m guessing- boobs hanging out of her top and her knees crossed. She is drawing the whole pool tables attention and she is loving it.
Slut.
At another pool table, is a group of seven overweight scary as hell bikers with leather vests, fingerless gloves and faded ripped jeans with boots on, holding a beer bottle in one hand and a pool stick in the other. A couple are smoking cigars, the smoke lingering near them but I could still smell it. It looks like a small bonfire with all the smoke they are making over there.
I coughed as the smoke got closer to me. I hate the smell of cigars and cigarettes. And beer. And that is all I can smell here. That and tacky perfume which these women here sprayed way too much of. They are all wearing too much perfume and not enough clothing.
They all have the typical biker look. Large rough beard, covered in large tattoos, cigar and or cigarette smell, and of course, they are very scary and intimidating. Damn, I wouldn’t want to piss them off. They could knock me out with a flick of their finger. I mean, I am strong and a good fighter, but no way would I stand a chance against them. Hell, most guys won’t stand a chance against them.
There is a large shiny bar lined with red leathered bar stools that takes up one side of the building. It’s lined with beer dispensers, ashtrays with ash in and near them, and all types of alcohol and used shot glasses lining the bar. There is only one bartender. Poor guy, having to serve all these people by himself. He can’t be much older than twenty-one, and he is serving at least twenty people, that has got to be intimidating and nerve wracking. He’s got light brown hair and green eyes, and he is average build. He isn’t scrawny by any means, but he isn’t really muscular either, and there is a clearly very drunk girl flirting with him.
Over in the corner is a large juke box, playing a old song that I don’t know, obviously, and two people lined up to change it. There are at least ten tables in here all with red leather seats, a black leather couch and two black leather chairs in one corner of the room facing a large flat screen TV which is currently playing a football game with the sound off. On the other wall is a door that leads to the roadhouse side of the place.
Interesting, the owner has it separate. One part roadhouse, one part bar. Well, he or she should have more than one bartender. At least two.
My phone dinged, playing my notification tone which is 'Sledgehammer' by Fifth Harmony. I pulled it out of my jeans back pocket, then typed in my password. I have a text from Amber, who I texted earlier when I was at Chad and Blake’s apartment, that Chad lied and stood me up to go to some bar. She was pissed.
AMBER: Find him yet?
ME: Nope.
AMBER: He is an idiot. Find him and give him hell for lying and standing you up.
ME: I will. TTYL
Amber Brighton has always been protective of me, like I am of her. We are like sisters, as we have known each other since kindergarten. Amber has waist-length caramel colored hair, brown eyes and slightly darker than fair skin. She was born one month before me, and we know each other like the back of our hands.
I put my Samsung Galaxy S7 with a black studded phone case, back into my pocket, and continued looking around. I started searching through the drunks looking for Chad.
On my search, I’ve had about four guys whistle at me and say inappropriate things and cat call me. Three of the guys had a girl on their arm, causing the girls to glare at me. I smirked. Not my fault their drunk boyfriends find me hot.
I am not one to brag, but I am very pretty. I have straight, long jet-black hair that goes down to my waist, deep ocean blue eyes with long full lashes even without mascara and medium lips that are pink. I have flawless fair skin, and I have long legs which I have gotten many compliments. I have C-cup breasts, and a nice hourglass figure. I am used to getting hit on, although it does get annoying because some of the comments can be really offensive and/or rude.
I have had men talk about how I have a ‘nice rack’ which pisses me off, or them saying they love my ‘perfect ass’ or what they want to do to me. I’ve even had some guys pinch or slap my butt, which earns them a hard slap to the face and a list of profanities shouted at them.
It didn’t take me long to find my boyfriend, he is sitting in a booth in the back. And he isn’t alone. There is a blond slut on his arm wearing barely any clothing. Her face is caked in makeup and she is bringing a beer to her full tacky ass bright red lips. She has a black crop top -if you could call it that, it just covers her large boobs that are almost popping out- Lord knows what bottoms she is wearing as that is hidden by the table. Chad is clearly drunk, as he raises his glass of -Jack Daniels, his go-to drink, I’m guessing- to his lips. Then he locks his lips with the slut and it turns into a full on make-out. My breathing stops for a second and I feel this horrible ache in my chest. The pain is so bad I almost hunch over from it. Oh my God, he is cheating on me. Cheating bastard. I can’t believe he is cheating on me. We have been together for two years. We got together when I was sixteen, a sophomore in high school.
I can feel tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I will not cry over him, again. The first time he made me cry, it was because he was an hour late for our date and then I found him at home drunk off his ass. He cussed me out and called me a slut, and said I was cheating on him which did not make any sense at all since he was the one who was late and supposed to pick me up not the other way around. But I waved it off because he was so drunk, and I forgave him easily the next day after he apologized profusely.
The slut is now sitting on his lap straddling him, with his hands on her back and one sliding down to her ass. I could hear his throaty groan from here when she pressed her crotch on his. Slutty bitch. I stormed over angrily, pushing my tears back. “Chad! How could you!” I screamed loudly as I grabbed the blonds hair pulling her head back roughly and she screamed in pain as her back hit the table. HA HA, that’s what you get bitch.
“What the fuck?” Chad slurred angrily as he glared up at me from his seat, eyes widening and glare disappearing when he recognized me. “Shit, Violet, this isn’t what it looks like.” He lied, slurring all his words. “Oh really?” I say, putting my hands on my hips as I glare daggers at him. “How is this slut, sitting on your lap with her tongue down your throat not what it looks like Chad?” I question angrily with a raised brow, resisting the urge to hit them both right here and now. “Violet, please listen to me.” He tries, shoving the blond completely off his lap and pushing himself off the booth. She gasps angrily as her body hits the table flipping her almost upside down causing her feet to fly in the air. Six inch stilettos. Figures. Whore.
“What the hell Chad!” Blondie shouts angrily. “Shut up!” Chad yells at her, causing her face to contort in shock and rage. She pushes herself off the booth and storms off, after shooting me a glare which I return. “Chad! How could you cheat on me! We have been together for two years! You said you loved me!” I cried out, the first traitorous tear falling and I whip it away furiously. “I do love you!” He pleads, tears glistening in his electric blue eyes. “No you don’t! If you did you wouldn’t be lying and cheating!” I yell, realizing I am drawing attention. “Vi-” He starts, cut off by my slap. Then the blond comes back over, with a large smirk plastered on her stupid face. “This isn’t even the first time he’s been with me. We were together, in bed, last week. And many times before that too. He is great in bed.” Blondie’s smirk widens. I slap her hard and she thrusts her hand up to cover her red cheek then stomps off again. I told him I am not having sex till marriage or until I am absolutely sure and he told me that was fine, that he could wait. I guess not. Well, now I am really glad I didn’t let him take my virginity.
Although, if I had, would he of cheated on me?
“Violet please! I love you! She means nothing! You mean everything to me! Not her!” He pleads, grabbing my waist as he steady’s himself when he stands. He’s wasted. His breath reeks strongly of whiskey. I just snort in disbelief. “She said you have fucked her, Chad. You had sex with her. More than once!” I cried loudly, pushing the tears back. Fuck that shit, I will not cry in front of him.
“I guess you couldn’t wait after all.” I spat bitterly. And he face shows deep hurt and he flinches. “I was stupid! She means nothing! I was drunk and horny! But I imagined it was you the whole time every time! And it only happened eight times!” Chad tries to convince me and I just shake my head in anger and give a humorless laugh. Eight times. Eight God damn times and he just wants me to forget it. Not likely. Just because he imagined it was me doesn’t make it any better.
“Fuck you Chad! We’re over! I mean it, we’re done.” I shout and turn around after shoving his hands off me. I see tears spill over his eyes, then his sadness turns into rage. “NO!” He shouts, loudly. Drawing the whole bars attention. “You are my everything! You will not leave me!” Chad roars and storms after me as I continue to leave.
“Fuck you! Or better yet, go fuck that slut. AGAIN!” I yell slapping him a second time. Asshole. I am so done with this bullshit. I am done with dealing with him always getting drunk even though he is underage and then getting pissed at me for no reason. No, he has never hit me, but he has cussed me out and now he cheats on me. Fuck this. I’m done.
“Violet! Listen to me! You will not leave me, I need you! Please! I love you!” He keeps on, and grabs my hand, pissing me off further. “No, Chad. Just leave me the fuck alone and go back to your whore.” I tell him, shoving his hand off me. I turn around heading back toward the door and he grabs me again, stumbling. “LEAVE ME ALONE YOU CHEATING ASSHOLE!” I scream loudly, keeping everyone’s attention. Including the bartender and the drunk bikers. Some of the people look concerned, some look sympathetic, others look like they are entertained. Great, just what I want, everyone’s attention in a skanky ass bar watching my breakup with a guy who I’ve loved for two years. He was my second boyfriend but my first love. He took my heart, showed me love, and now he breaks my heart. How ironic.
One of the bikers comes up to us. Ah, shit. This is the last thing I need. Some dick who heard my breakup coming to hit on me. Shit. “No! You. Are. Mine.” Chad slurs in a rage filled tone. “I am not yours, not anymore. You made sure of that when you cheated on me.” I tell him in an icy, heartless tone and he flinches back like I hit him. “Please baby!” He begs, tears now flowing down his cheeks, making me almost forgive him. Almost. “Just leave her alone man.” The biker who walked over, tells Chad. This guy doesn’t seem very drunk and he’s trying to help me, so I let him. “Back off man. She is my girlfriend, don’t tell me what to do.” Chad slurs to the biker, shoving him slightly. Ah, shit. That’s probably not smart. This guy is huge, he could take out Chad with one finger. “I am not your girlfriend anymore. Did you not hear me? We. Are. Done. Now, leave me alone.I’m done. I’m leaving, don’t call me or text me.” I tell Chad coldly, then turn to leave again. Then he grabs my arm, again making me growl in annoyance.
I shake him off angrily and turn around glaring harshly at him. “Leave me alone and let me go.” I tell him. The biker pushes Chad back gently and Chad’s face contorts in rage, aiming a death glare so harsh at the large biker if looks could kill the large, muscular biker would be ten feet under. “Touch me again man, I dare you.” Chad threatens venomously, clenching his fists and jaw. “Dude, you’re wasted and she told you to leave her alone, so leave her alone.” The biker guy tells Chad firmly. I smile gratefully at him, and turn to leave again but right before I can Chad pulls his arm back and clocks the biker in the face hard enough to knock him back a few steps. Oh no. The biker guys face contorts in rage and he snarls at Chad. “I am giving you one more chance man. Leave her alone and back the fuck off.” The biker warns lowly. Chad smirks and hits the guy in the gut.
“Chad! What the fuck!” I yell in shock and fear and I grab his arm pulling him back. I release his arm to give him a lecture, but I then see biker guy clench his fists and his friends come over, as backup, I’m assuming. Oh, shit. This can’t be good. These guys are freaking huge and intimidating. And Chad, being an idiot and drunk off his ass, will fight them.
Yeah, I am hurt and pissed at Chad, but I don’t want him beaten to a pulp either. “That’s it.” Biker warns, then swings at Chad and hits him in the face, knocking him down and I scream in horror. But Chad doesn’t stay down for long. Oh no, he stupidly jumps back up ready for the fight that I know is about to happen. Fuck. I mean, he deserved that but I don’t want him hospitalized! I loved the guy for years, I don’t want him seriously hurt! Not that he wouldn’t deserve it though.
Biker man’s friends walk up, looking as scary as ever and ready for a fight. “Hey, please don’t hurt him!” I beg, looking at all of them desperately. They look at me shocked and angry, and I flinch slightly. “He fucking cheated on you and hit our friend, he is gonna get what he deserves.” One of them tells me then proceeds to slug Chad hard in the stomach causing another scream from me. Chad groans in pain and hunches over grasping his stomach and coughing. “Fuck.” Chad groans.
“Stop!” I cry out, scared as they all circle Chad who is now standing straight up again, looking pissed off and ready to take them all on. Chad stupidly slugs at one of the new bikers, hitting them right in the eye barely making him move at all. These guys got to be at least 6’3 and over two-hundred and thirty pounds at least. Scary AF.
They all proceed to gang up on him. Sure, Chad is good in a fight. I have seen him go up against two guys his size and come out on top. Chad is about 6’0, fit body, athletic figure. He’s got dark blonde hair and electric blue eyes and tan skin. He has surfer perfect abs, and sculpted arms, but he can’t take these guys. Not a chance in hell. He will not make it out of this in one piece. I look around the bar for help, and see some people who are down right oblivious and drinking. Some flirting, one passed out on the floor and others are videoing this! WTF! They are recording it instead of helping. What is wrong with people!?
“Can someone please help! Please! Their gonna hurt him bad! Someone do something!” I beg loudly, looking from side to side for someone to do something. Nobody does a damn thing. Fuckers. I turn to the bartender as a last resort and I give him a pleading look. He grabs a baseball bat that was behind the counter and leaps over the bar which looks kind of sexy, and runs over toward the fight.
“HEY! Break it up! Leave him alone!” He shouts at the bikers and they start coming at him. He pales and grips the bat tighter. “Hey, no fights in this bar. Take it outside or leave him alone.” He tells them, his voice wavering slightly in fear. “Leave it buddy, unless you want to be next.” One of the scary ass bikers threatens him and he pales more. Wuss. He turns and runs back toward the bar, then through a door toward the end of the bar. Is he leaving the bar? Oh my God, what the hell?
I pull my phone out, and see it’s almost one A.M., and I have a feeling I am going to be calling the police soon. And possibly an ambulance.
Then the bartender walks back into the bar looking determined and I give a confused look before looking back at Chad. I then see the door swing open again out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head and see the most attractive guy I have ever seen in my life enter the bar. Hot damn, this guy is fucking gorgeous. He has very dark brown hair and from what I can tell, really dark eyes that look black and seem to be getting darker by the second. He has tan skin, and perfect lips. He is wearing a white T-shirt with a black leather jacket over it, which is my weakness. He has dark jeans and combat boots, and a sexy swagger in his walk. He radiates dominance, power and authority. He is intimidating, even more so than the bikers. Jesus, he is hotter than hell and then some.
He looks determined and pissed off, as he heads straight toward the fight going on. Chad is down now, with a black eye, a bloody nose and a cut lip. Chad is holding his ribs, which I think one of the bikers kicked. He doesn’t look too good. Damn, these bikers are vicious.
“Hey! Break it the fuck up now! He is down, leave him alone and get the fuck out! I don’t tolerate this shit in my bar!” Hot guy commands and holy shit his voice is melodic, smooth and hot. I am so drawn to him and I have no explanation for it. I literally just dumped my cheating boyfriend, and yet I totally forgot the second this guy walked into the room.
Wait, his bar? He is the owner? He looks too young to own a bar, but at least he looks like he can actually stop this actual bar brawl. “Screw you dude, back off. This guy started it.” One of them yells at the owner. The hot owner guy smirks, and it is so panty dropping sexy I swear my panties got wet, and I squeeze my legs together. The hell? Chad is hot too, but he never caused this reaction. Especially not from something as simple as a smirk.
“I don’t give a flying fuck who started it, I own this place, now leave.” He said so low and so full of power I almost felt the urge to leave myself. Is it weird this is turning me on? He is so powerful and commanding and sexy I can’t seem to help ogling him. What is wrong with me? The bikers flinched and all immediately backed off, then headed straight for the door. And then proceeded to leave the bar. I heard the rumbling of multiple motorcycles, as they all speeded off. Damn, that was impressive.
“Thanks.” I say and smile slightly at the owner. He gives me a crooked grin. Dear Lord, he is hotter than hell. “No problem.” He replies grinning. I smile. “Yo, Deacon! That was awesome man. Those bikers are a pain in the ass.” Some other hot guy walks out of the same door, although he is not near as hot as the owner, who is apparently named Deacon. Wow, that’s a hot name. “Tell me about it, damn assholes. You alright?” He tells the other guy, then looks down at Chad who I resisted the urge to run to and take care of. He is hurt, but he also hurt me.
“Do I fucking look alright?” He asks sarcastically and I face palm. Wow, really? He is almost beaten to a pulp, and if Deacon hadn’t of come out here he would’ve been and this is how he thanks the guy? How did I love this guy for two years. Two fucking years. What was I thinking. “Dumbass. He just saved your cheating ass and you thank him with a sarcastic comment. Seriously? I know you’re drunk off your ass but seriously Chad, thank the guy.” I tell him in exasperation. Hottie looks at me and smiles brightly causing my heartbeat to speed up and butterflies in my stomach. For some reason, I just automatically trust him, and want to run straight into his arms.
I smile slightly, then shift my eyes and glare at Chad, who is trying to push himself up. “Fine, thank you.” He grumbles, attempting to stand. He is pretty beat up. “Fuck, I think a rib is cracked.” He groans. “You deserve it.” I mutter quietly. “Excuse me?” Chad asks, incredulous. “You deserved it for cheating on me. Albeit, you didn’t deserve it to this extent but you still deserved to get your ass kicked.” I tell him and shrug. Deacon’s friend looks shocked and amused then laughs, Deacon looks pissed off but slightly amused, and Chad looks shocked.
“You dated this tool?” Deacons hot friend asked laughing. “Tool?! If anyone is a tool, it’s your wimp ass bartender who ran away.” Chad yells, as he finally stands. Hot as hell Deacon looks even angrier.
“Ok, you need to leave too.” Deacon says. I stifle a giggle, which all three men notice. Deacon looks pleased, his friend looks amused, and Chad looks miffed. He isn’t as drunk anymore, thank God, but he still isn’t sober enough to drive home either. Shit.
“Give me your keys and call an Uber.” I order Chad and he looks at me blankly then frowns. “I’m fine.” He waves it off. “No, you’re not. Call an Uber Chad. I may be hurt and pissed at you, but I am not letting you drive drunk so you can run into a tree. I loved you for two years, hell I still love you because I can’t just turn it off, I am not going to let you kill yourself in a car accident.” I admit looking down, playing with my thumbs nervously. I wish I could just remove all my love for him, and all the sadness he caused.
“Fine.” He grumbles. He pulls out his cell phone and calls and Uber driver. I decide to wait here until the Uber arrives, so I can make sure he gets into it. Ten minutes later, the Uber arrives and Chad ungracefully gets into it, groaning and holding his ribs. “You need to see a doctor.” I tell him and he gives me a blank look. “I’m-” I cut him off. “No, you’re not fine. Go see a doctor. Bye.” I order, then shut the door and walk back into the bar.
“Fuck.” I say, and finally let the tears fall and cry silently as I plant myself on a bar stool. “Are you alright?” I hear a sexy, melodic man’s voice ask me. I turn my head to see Deacon and his friend standing beside me, looking at me in worry. “I’m fine.” I lie and whip away my tears. They both give me disbelieving looks and sit on the bar stools beside me. I raise an eyebrow at Deacon and he smiles softly. “Thanks for stopping the fight before it got any worse.” I thank him and he nods.
“What happened?” He asks. I sigh loudly and slump my shoulders. “My now ex-boyfriend, or the tool as you”, - I point at Deacon’s friend who grins- “called him, was my boyfriend. He stood me up, lying that he was sick and then his roommate told me he was here. So I came here, found him kissing some other girl who told me they had had sex many times. So I dumped him. He wasn’t happy and wouldn’t let me leave, then the biker guy came over and told Chad to let me go. Chad got pissed. He hit the biker, then hit him a second time, then the biker hit him, then the rest came over as backup. That’s pretty much it.” I explain and they nod in understanding, looking solemn.
“I’m Deacon Rock, and this is Cage Garret, my best friend and the manager.” Deacon introduces them. Cage has medium tan colored hair and light brown eyes. He’s got tan skin, and he is muscular and sculpted as well. All in all, they are both two of the most attractive guy’s I have ever seen in my life. But Deacon is still number one. “I’m Violet White.” I reach my hand out to Deacon. He takes my hand and I immediately feel sparks. Da fuck? They feel amazing. He smiles brightly when our hands touch and I am left breathless.
Why do I feel sparks? I mean, they feel great, but, what? And all it makes me want to do is get closer to him and touch him more, anything to keep this feeling. I look at him and his eyes look even darker, and they were already basically black. Which is really sexy. Cage looks shocked, his pretty light brown eyes widening then he looks absolutely ecstatic. Why does he look so happy? I pull my hand back, although I really didn’t want to.
“Violet, what a beautiful name.” Deacon tells me and I can’t help but love the way my name sounds rolling off his tongue. Damn. Oh, wait, he said something. “Oh, thank you.” I say, blushing because I totally zoned out and focused on his amazing lips. Good God, what I would give to feel those lips on mine.
“So, are you going to be ok Lu-“-Deacon shoots him a firm look- “I mean Violet?” Cage corrects himself. What was he going to say? I shrug it off and nod, giving a small smile as I stand up. “Yeah, but I’m going to head home. Bye guys.” I wave as I turn toward the door. Then someone grabs my arm, and I feel sparks.
