Hellion, a New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series)

  I grab her by the arm and pull her back so he misses. I lean over and whisper loudly into her ear. “Hello! Earth to Alissa! Perv alert!”

  She shakes me off. “Stop, Quin. He’s just being cute.”

  “Cute? He’s just being cute? Gah. I think I just barfed in my mouth a little.” I look nervously over at the table with Mick and Colin at it. I’m out of my league with this turd basket hitting on Alissa and her encouraging it like that. I have no idea how to step between a delusional pregnant person and a deviant freakazoid without hurting someone. This operation requires way gentler skills than I possess.

  “Is there a problem here?”

  I get a little light-headed with the relief that passes through me. “Colin. Hi. Yes. Alissa was just saying how much she misses you.” I point to her and the guy.

  He looks up, and the weirdo’s face falls when he sees Colin there.

  Alissa scowls. “No, I wasn’t. Go back to your table, Colin.” She turns back to her suitor. “You were saying?”

  Colin looks at me in confusion. “What’s she doing?”

  I throw up my hands. “I don’t know! Ruining my plan! Going AWOL! Flirting with disaster! Suffering from pregnancy-induced psychosis! Take your pick.” I cross my arms, too disgusted to think straight. “I hope Mick is getting some good info right now because this is turning into a total bust as far as I can tell.”

  “Yeah, he’s doing fine.” Colin leaves me and moves over to stand on Alissa’s other side. He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at the guy who can’t keep his eyes off Alissa’s belly.

  I’m impressed by Colin’s completely cool attitude because all I can do is shiver at the whole thing. I notice as the guy holds his bottle in front of him that his fingernails are chewed so far down, they have dried blood on them and sores on the sides. Holy murderer molester cannibal guy. No way can I let Alissa go anywhere with this dude, not even over into a booth. Thank God Colin is here because I’m not sure I can take the guy down. He’s got at least fifty pounds on me, maybe more.

  The molester finally comes to the realization that Colin isn’t leaving. He breaks his gaze away from Alissa and looks right at him. “Dude, do you mind? I’m trying to have a conversation here.” He gestures with his bottle at Alissa.

  “Yeah, actually, I do mind.” Colin’s arms swing gently at his sides. I see it for the preparedness that it is. He could throw a spleen-crushing punch in a split second if necessary. I breathe easier for the first time in many minutes.

  Alissa looks up at him, her chin going out and her eyes getting all squinty.

  Fuck! She’s going to blow everything! I rush over to diffuse her anger. “Hey! Alissa! Look! Your juice is almost gone!”

  She looks at me and then her glass, some of her anger being replaced by confusion. “So?”

  “So, your blood sugar. It’s low. That’s not good, you know what the doctor said.”

  “Quin, I’m fine.”

  “Come to the bathroom with me.” I cross my legs to look convincing. I do my eyes too just to be sure. She’s a drama chick and all, so I have to give her the works.

  “No, I don’t have to go.”

  “But I do.” I take her by the arm and drag her with me. “Be right back!” I say, over my shoulder.

  “Why are you doing this? I was just talking to him,” she says.

  I stop when we’re far enough away that he won’t take it as an invitation to follow us. “I am saving you from being molested by a complete and total loser, Alissa. Trust me, you do not want to encourage him.”

  “I’m a grown woman, Quin. I can take care of myself.” She jerks her arm away from me and backs up.

  “You are a total dipshit, actually, and I am not going to be responsible for you losing your baby.” The words are out before I can stop them. Oopsy.

  Her face goes mutinous. “You’re despicable.” She turns around and leaves me there. And now I really do have to go pee.

  “Fine!” I yell at her back. “I’ll go to the bathroom myself!”

  I grumble all the way in there, locking myself in the farthest stall from the door. This place smells like ass, and I can’t stand to do anything but quickly pee standing up before I’m ready to run out again. But voices come in along with a burst of loud music, and they’re giggling.

  I pause with my finger over the lock.

  “OMG, he is so cute. Did you see his eyes?!”

  Another voice chimes in. “Did you see his tattoos? Oh my god, when he lifted his shirt and showed us that heart over his heart?” She pauses to gasp. “I almost had an orgasm. Right there in my chair, I swear to god.”

  “Roxanne, you are bad,” the other voice says. “What’s his name again?”

  “Mick, he said.” She sighs like a little girl in love. “Mick. Could he be any sexier? No, I don’t think so.”

  My face goes red. She’s talking about my Mick. She desperately wants her face slapped and she doesn’t even know it. I lean my forehead on the door to try and collect myself. He’s doing recon. He’s helping Teagan. He’s doing exactly what I asked him to do. Do not get jealous, idiot.

  “I’m going to take him into the corner and give him a little somethin’-somethin’,” the lovestruck girl says.

  Roxanne. I hate that name. I’m going to end this now. I’m going to go out there and tell her all about herself and explain how my Mick wants nothing to do with her and how she doesn’t have a single chance in hell at getting him into any dark corners. He’s mine, mine, all mine and nobody else’s.

  I lift my head off the cold steel door. It’s silent in the bathroom. I strain to hear sounds of the faucet running or girls planning sexy time in the corners of the club, but there’s nothing and no one there.

  “Shit!” I fumble with the door, trying to get it open. It won’t budge. “No, no, no, no, noooo!” I whine, wiggling the metal until a piece falls off in my hand.

  My mouth gapes open. “Holy shit, no! This is not happening!” I jiggle the piece that remains on the door, trying to fit the broken piece back in. The rest of the lock falls out and hits the floor, rolling off into the nearby stall.

  I grab the top of the stall door and jump, trying to see over the edge of it. Total fail.

  “Dammit! Too short!” Curse my defective DNA! I can’t see! Where did they go?! Is she putting her hands in Mick’s pants while I hang out with the stink-ass toilet seat? “Help me!” I yell. “Someone open the door! I’m locked in this shit hole!”

  No one can hear my cries for rescue over the sound of the music and happy crowd.

  I grab my purse from my shoulder and fish around for my phone. I want to cry when I come up empty. “Dammit! It’s in the car!” My voice has gone up into another octave. I cannot believe I am trapped in a bathroom that smells like sweaty construction worker asscrack while a ho-bag in a polyester mini-skirt steals my man.

  I bang on the door over and over, giving it a couple good punches too while I’m at it. All it does is shake in its frame. I’m still stuck. Powerless. Trapped.

  I look down at the floor. The space under the door beckons. I chew on my bottom lip as I survey the situation. If I squeeze myself pretty flat, I could probably get under it.

  “Oh, God, oh, God, oh God.” I really don’t want to do this. The floor is beyond dirty. I don’t even know what color the tiles are supposed to be, but they’re gray right now. There are smears. There are things. I don’t even know what things, but there are things. Viruses for sure. Germs. Things worse than germs. Smells … ugh. I can’t. I can’t.

  Laughter comes through the door. I picture the girl in the mini-skirt dropping her head back to laugh at something witty Mick has said and him leaning forward and kissing her throat.

  “Wait! Mick! Don’t do it! I’m coming!” I yell, just before I drop down onto my knees in the stall.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I’M HALFWAY OUT OF THE stall on my belly, feeling like a total dirty toilet-snake slithering around, when the bathroom d
oor opens and the loud sounds of the crowd and the music come blasting in.

  I look up at an amazonian woman wearing heels and jeans standing not very far from my face. She looks familiar, and I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s a supermodel who dates George Clooney.

  “Uhhh …” I try to play off the fact that I’m wallowing in strip club toilet stink at her feet. “Heh, heh. Hi.”

  She lifts an eyebrow and stares at me. I’m immediately impressed with her skills. And I thought I was awesome at speaking without talking. She’s like an eyebrow ninja or something. I wonder if they taught her that in supermodel school.

  “Do you need some help?” she asks, coming a step closer.

  “Yeah,” I say, pressing my palms into the floor. I’m going to sterilize them with fire later. “The lock broke while I was inside.”

  She bends in half and puts her hand down where I can reach it.

  I cringe. “I’m not sure you want to touch my hand right now,” I say, hesitating as I lift my fingers off the floor a little.

  “Trust me, everything washes off with a little soap and water.”

  I lean on her strength and work my way the rest of the distance past the door and stand. I let her go when I’m sure I won’t fall. We walk over to the sinks together and turn the water on side-by-side.

  “Thanks,” I say. “That was very cool of you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” She loads up with soap from the dispenser and washes her hands as she looks in the mirror.

  “It’s flawless,” I say, smiling as I take in her reflection. “No need to worry.”

  She glances at me before going back to her hands. “What’s flawless?”

  “Your face. Your hair. Everything.” Okay, I’m fan-girling right now and I don’t even know who she is. I’ve never been around someone this pretty before, though, so I can’t be blamed for my stupidity. If she wants to date me, I might say yes. She has that much power. I’m just not sure how I’m going to get around her girl parts, though. Those will be a problem.

  She gets a sour look on her face and goes back to the water without responding.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I ask, shutting off the faucet in front of me. I’ve left a layer of skin in the sink with all my scrubbing, but I’m not complaining. I’ll have to burn my clothes later.

  “No, it’s fine. Thanks.”

  “Do you not like it when people say nice things to you?” I’m standing there, kind of stunned by the idea of hating compliments. I could take a bath in them and never get tired of it.

  She sighs heavily and then leans on the sink, drying her hands with a paper towel. “I hear it all the time. It gets old. I’d rather people just ignore it and me sometimes.”

  Recognition dawns when she faces me more fully. “You’re the stripper!” I point at her, like she’s a freak animal at the zoo. I can’t help it. “You were awesome!”

  Her smile isn’t very happy. “Yes. I’m the stripper.”

  My face falls. “I’m sorry. That was shitty. I’m an asshole.” I look at the door. Escape looks pretty good about now.

  “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for coming to the show.” She turns around to leave and I follow behind, hoping I can ease some of the sting of my earlier words.

  “Do you make a lot of money doing something like this? Is that why you came from Florida?” Oh, yeah, Quin. That was way better. Why don’t you ask her if she turns tricks on the side too while you’re at it?

  “Yes, I do make good money and I have friends out here. But I don’t recommend this line of business if that’s why you’re asking.” She opens the door and the sounds are back. “Have fun.”

  “I wasn’t asking for that reason. Not really. But thanks for the advice!” I watch her perfectly-shaped butt leave the stink-hole of a bathroom and disappear into the crowd. Man. If I could have a butt like that and the eyebrows I was born with … even George Clooney would be mine.

  As my eyes adjust to the darkness again, I suddenly remember what was so awful in my life that I had to climb through sludge to get to it. Mick! Crap! Where is he?

  There’s a group of people dancing off to the side of the stage that draws my gaze. I didn’t know that anyone but girls about to take their clothes off danced at strip clubs. And then I recognize the mini skirt.

  Ugh. All of the office girls and possibly a few others that got caught up in the action are now dancing around Mick. He’s in the middle, somehow managing to groove with every single one of them at the same time.

  My heart starts to burn and I feel nauseas. Ow. I rub my chest a bit. Jealousy is painful.

  I’m standing sucking my cheeks in and contemplating my next move when Alissa appears at my side. Colin is a few paces behind her.

  “Where have you been?” she asks, annoyed.

  I look at her as my fishy-face falls back into normalness. Jealousy moves over for annoyance. “Stuck in the bathroom, thank you very much. You totally abandoned me and I got locked inside.” I go back to staring at Mick. I can’t stop drooling over his easy moves as he turns and dips and bobs with the rhythm of the music and twelve bouncy, barely-contained boobs.

  “Oh my god, how did you get out?” She doesn’t sound very concerned. More like amused.

  “I had to crawl under the door, if you must know.” I can’t help but brush at my clothes again for about the tenth time. I swear I smell ass on me somewhere.

  Alissa doesn’t say anything. I look over and find her laughing.

  “You’re a dick,” I say, taking a step towards Mick.

  She grabs my arm and pulls me back. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to get Mick. It’s time to go.”

  “No, you’re not. Get back here.” She’s pretty strong for a pregnant girl. “He’s doing just fine. Leave him alone.”

  I yank my arm away when I’m next to her again. “How would you know?”

  “Because, Colin told me what they were talking about before they were dancing. He’s getting all kinds of info. Those girls are getting drunker with every minute that goes by and they like to talk.”

  “It’s not worth it,” I say, watching a girl grind her lady-parts up against Mick’s leg. “He’s sacrificing too much.”

  She snorts. “Oh. Yeah. He’s really sacrificing, all right.”

  My mood sinks down into darkness. Mick is totally into it; I can tell by his expression. And besides, hips don’t lie. He’s moving his like he’s in an Usher video. And he’s Usher. Double triple shit basket. “Yeah. I guess it’s not much of a sacrifice to dirty dance with six girls named Holly Hooter, is it?”

  “Seven. There are seven Holly Hooters whatever. Come on. Let’s go have a drink. I have an orange juice with your name on it over here.”

  I follow her back to the bar, refusing to watch Mick over my shoulder. He’s only doing what I asked him to do and I can’t blame him for doing it well. Besides, what did I expect from a guy nicknamed Hellion? It’s pretty sad that I was picturing him being my boyfriend not an hour before. He’s not boyfriend material. He’s a party boy and I’m just a family girl. It would never work between us. I take a long pull of orange juice from the straw. I’m going to drown my sorrows in Vitamin C.

  “What’s wrong?” Colin asks, moving up on my right.

  “Nothing. Just a mood. I’m tired. I want to go home.” I get my pout on hot and heavy. It feels a little bit better to wallow in self-pity. Woe is me. My life sucks a bag of dicks.

  “We’re staying in a hotel, I hope,” he says.

  “Can’t we just go?” I whine. “You can drive, right? You slept for half the trip.”

  “Want to know a secret?” he asks, his voice lower and closer to my ear.

  “Yeah.” I’m suddenly intrigued. I love secrets, especially when they come from secretive people.

  “I was faking.” He looks over at Alissa.

  “Why?” I keep my voice low too. We’re both staring at her as she sways to the beat and stares at the stage. r />
  “Because. She freaks me out.”

  I bark out a laugh.

  “What’s so funny about that?”

  “She’s friggin’ pregnant. She has, like, zero powers over anyone.”

  “Like hell she doesn’t. She’s like Wonder Woman, Cat Woman, and Kick Ass all rolled into one badass chick. I completely fear her.”

  I can’t stop chuckling. He’s twice her size and an accomplished felon. She’s a valedictorian cheese stick.

  “Thanks for that, Colin.”

  “Thanks for what?” He’s mystified.

  “For cheering me up. Come on. Let’s go wait for Mick out in the car.”

  Colin joins me without a word of complaint. I nudge Alissa on the way by. “Come on. Party’s over, round girl.”

  “But that girl was just about to take her top off.” She’s pointing at the stage with her glass.

  I take the juice from her hand and put it on the bar. “You can buy a boobie magazine if you need to see some of those or I’ll flash you mine if you really want. Come on.”

  She frowns on her way out, walking next to me. “I don’t generally like boobs, but they were good dancers. I’m going to try some of that pole dancing stuff when we get back. I’ll bet it’s good exercise.”

  Colin’s jaw drops and his face goes white. If I’m not mistaken, he’s also broken out in a cold sweat. As we go out into the parking lot, I have to hold my stomach to keep from vomiting I’m laughing so hard.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  BY THE TIME MICK STUMBLES out of the club, I’m the only one still awake. Or I’m the only one not fake-sleeping, anyway. Alissa is snoring so loud I find it hard to believe Colin is really as dead to the world as he appears.

  Mick comes up to my window as I pretend to not notice he’s there.

  “Hey,” he says against the glass, fogging it up a little. “Can I come in?”