Page 13 of Enticed

“Of course. Let me send the email to let her know so we’re completely ready for you,” I declare while typing away on my phone quickly.

“Walk this way, talk this way…”

Steven Tyler’s voice makes my ears ring and my head perk up just as I recognize the song that is playing as someone’s ringtone near us, sending chills down my spine. As I twist towards the melody that ends quickly as the owner answers the call, I feel my heart start to beat wildly in my chest, and then flashes of that night infiltrate my mind. Tracy looks over at me when she sees the change in my demeanor and I swallow hard.

“Are you okay?” She looks concerned, searching my face for answers.

But I can barely speak, closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths before I answer.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine,” I smile through clenched teeth, hoping I can make it out of here before I completely lose it.

This happens occasionally—a moment, this song, a color or smell—the smallest detail connected to that moment in time will send me back to that night and bring on the panic that won’t let up. The memories are still there, and unfortunately, they like to reappear at the worst times.

“Okay… you just look a little pale,” she tilts her head, still apprehensive about my reaction.

“I don’t know. I guess I just got dizzy all of a sudden,” I lie, hoping she’ll buy it. “I probably just need to drink more water,” I explain, reaching for the glass and gulping down as much as I can to prevent me from speaking any further.

Giving her a half-hearted smile when I finish, we stand and walk out together after I pay, shaking hands and confirming the delivery of the forms to her email.

Once I’m in my car and alone, I let out the breath I was holding, gripping my steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turn white as a few tears leak from my eyes.

Sweat beads on my forehead while I rest my head against the back of my seat, taking deep inhales to calm my nerves and my stomach. My knees are shaking and the collar of my shirt feels like it’s choking me. I push my dark brown hair off of my neck and begin to fan myself with my hands while the air conditioning blows through the dash of my car, helping to lower my rising body temperature.

I hate this. I can’t stand the fact that one instance in my life has taken so much control over my mind. I loathe the fact that something as trivial as a song can transport me back to the feel of his hands on me and the desperation I felt while fighting him off.

Although music can do that for any memory, right? There are songs I can hear after years that will pull my mind right back to a time in the past—whether sad, happy, or life-changing—a dance at the senior prom with Clay Ridenhour, a sleepover with my girls during our sophomore year, a football game during college where I flashed the team on the sidelines…

When I open my eyes and flip down my visor to check the color in my face, my anger rises staring at the woman looking back at me. I feel weak, pathetic, a fragment of the woman I’ve prided myself on being for years. My dark brown eyes that I’ve always found to be dull and uninteresting—are full of fear and irritation.

I shake my head and clench my jaw, reaching for my phone to text Cindy that I’m not going to make it back to the office today. I use the excuse that I’m not feeling well, but I have no intention of going home—there’s only one place I know where I can go to numb the emotions coursing through me.

Tony is hunched over the bar, writing something on his clipboard when the sound of the door opening alerts him to my arrival. It’s just past four, which is when he opens for business.

“Clara,” he says more astonished than anything as he rises to a fully standing position. “It’s early for you to be here… what’s going on, lady?”

“Three shots of tequila, Tony,” I command, hoisting myself on a stool at the bar and throwing my purse onto the counter. I reach for a hair tie from my purse and throw my hair up in a messy bun like I’m about to fight someone.

I’m actually about to fight the demons in my mind.

“Clara…”

I hold my hand up to stop him. “No, Tony… not today. Three shots of tequila, please,” I say again, fighting off the tears I feel building behind my eyes, but commanding the alcohol despite my manners.

I will not cry… I will not show my weakness…

“Bad day?” He lifts an eyebrow at me while reaching for the bottle and three shot glasses, lining them up as he pours.

“Yes,” is all I say, shooting back the first one as soon as he slides it to me, welcoming the burn of the liquid coursing down my throat.

“You know there are other ways to deal with the pain, Clara,” Tony lifts the corner of his mouth in a sentimental smile which mostly just translates to his pity for me. From my conversations with Tony, I know that he’s an Army veteran and was pretty fucked up when he returned from his time overseas, just like Kane. He tried to talk to me about how to handle my situation, but I never let him.

“Yeah, well, this is how I choose to deal with it, okay?” I fire back just as a few more patrons enter the bar, grabbing Tony’s attention away from me and leaving me to drown in my reprieve.

A few hours later, I’m good and buzzed after three more shots and a beer.

“Kane! Drew!” I shout as Olivia’s fiancé and his best friend enter the bar, both perplexed at seeing me here by the looks on their faces.

Kane and Drew are both teachers at Emerson Falls High School. That’s where Kane and Olivia officially met after their one-night-stand, when they realized they actually worked together. Drew and his wife Tammy—who is also a teacher there—have been at numerous functions since Kane and Olivia got together, so I’ve gotten to know them pretty well, and I’m happy to report they are good people.

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