Page 2 of Tainted Blood

The two other guys with them stand up and make like they’re going to the exit, but they stop in their tracks. I feel the shift behind me, and the guy in a suit with a medium build who had his dick buried in the girl’s behind says, “We’re sorry, Callie, but we have to split. Max got us kicked out.”

“Are you for real?” she snaps. “It’s my freaking birthday.” I turn around, and it’s her—the girl from the damn bar. She’s with these fucking coked-out jackasses. I hope she’s not banging one of them. They’re going to die for having dared to touch her sensuous body. I tap the steel piece that’s under my suit jacket, itching to shoot one of them.

I take a calming breath before I go apeshit on these young punks. “Excuse me, but you can all leave. Exceptyou,” I state, staring into the caramel eyes of Callie.

Chapter Two

Callie

“Callie, it’s your birthday, bi-ach!” my best friend Maggie shouts, throwing her arms around me. It’s obvious they’ve been making use of the VIP lounge without me. They’re completely sloshed, and even from my brief walk up the stairs to the private seating area, I noticed the sexual tension passing between them. It’s a whole different dynamic than I’m used to. They’re never like this.

I pull away, needing to breathe. I make a big deal of staring at her green dress that has matching cutouts at her waist. I smile and say, “Hey, girl, that dress is banging.”

“Yes, it is,” Jacob says, smirking as he eyes her up and down. “But damn, Callie, yours is fucking a sin.” He stares at me lecherously, like he wants me to join in on whatever it is they were about to start. I wonder how much he’s already had to drink. They pre-gamed because this place is expensive and most of them don’t have money to toss around.

“Come on,” I say, waving off the attention with my hand, ducking my head in faux shyness. Even though I know I look good, I’m not looking for his praise. It’s my twenty-fourth birthday. I’ve already started celebrating by getting a tattoo of a sword in a Celtic knot because I love medieval books, and I asked the artist to draw me something that reminded me of it.

“We needed drinks,” Max says, raising his glass with a smile, showing all his pearly whites.

“It looks like you started without me,” I accuse them with my lips pressed in an annoyed smirk. I know I shouldn’t be drinking after getting a tattoo, but it’s cool because I won’t drink a lot.

“It’s not like they let you sit here doing nothing.” Maggie giggles before sipping her cocktail. “They want you to spend big bucks.” That is something I understand, but I don’t see a motherfucking drink for me. They could have at least told me to stop at the bar before I came up here.

“I can’t believe your dad got this for your birthday,” Kyle says, tossing back a shot. Yes, my dad paid for this and extra booze as well so there should be rounds being brought up, but I’m not waiting for another round. Yeah, you’d think these jerks would have ordered me a drink. I was only twenty minutes behind, and I was almost at the club when I texted them.

“I need a drink. I’ll be back.”

“Hey, they come to us,” Jacob says, trying to drag me back to his side.

I stare at the full glasses and beer bottles. There are extra beers sitting there untouched, but I need some hard liquor. “Yes, it looks like they just left.”

“They’ll be back in twenty,” Jacob says, sliding his hand around my hip. I gently slid away from him and his handsy grasp. “Have my drink.” He hands me an almost-full beer. I’m not a fan of beer, especially pale ale. I take a long pull of the beer and then hand it back, making a terrible face. It tastes worse than I remember.

He pushes my hand back. “No, keep it. I’ll order another when they come back.”

I take another drink, trying to muscle down the liquid, but I can’t. “I need a girly drink, sorry. I’m not a beer girl,” I say as I set the beer down on the table. I give them a smile and then walk back down the stairs to where the action is. The dance floor is pretty full, but there’s still room if we all feel like dancing. Suddenly a wave of need floods my mind. I want to meet a guy. After all these years, I need to find someone that sets my body ablaze with desire, but I doubt that will happen tonight.

I head over to the bar, but then get a strange sense that I’m being watched. I look toward the VIP section, and Jacob has his eyes on me. I bite down on my bottom lip and then turn to the bartender so I can ignore his stare. He’s probably just making sure I’m safe. We’re all med students, and I made it clear that I don’t date people I work with. This program is essentially a full-time position, making all the guys in the program ineligible.

“How can I help you?” the bartender asks. She’s a beautiful woman who probably makes a killing. I wonder if that’s who Jacob is staring at. If I was a dude, I’d totally flirt with her.

“Can I get a screwdriver?” I question, hoping she can make it. “Oh, and a Fireball shot.”

“Coming right up.” She mixes it in front of me. I see her add a twist to the drink, and I hope it’s good.

“Here you go.” I handed her the money as she passed me both the drink and shot.

“Your change.” She slides it across the bar top.

Unlike some of my classmates, I don’t have to worry about that. My dad keeps my bank account pretty full, and I don’t touch most of it. So, I slid the change back to her. “Keep it.” I’m not planning on drinking a lot, so this is the only time I can be generous with tipping. Being a med student doesn’t come with money, which is hard to earn with our schedules.

Still, even if money isn’t an issue for me, time is. We have so much on our plates, but that’s the only way we’ll become doctors one day. Last week I was working in the NICU, and it was my favorite place. It gave me a severe case of baby fever. However, it doesn’t matter because I’m not anywhere near ready for a baby. I need a man for that, and that doesn’t seem in the cards unless I take my dad up on his offer to introduce me to some fine gentlemen. I roll my eyes.

First, I toss the shot back, letting the cinnamon liquor burn as it goes down. Then, I take my glass and face the dance floor. Lazily I sip the drink and watch the crowd grinding and having fun. Reminding myself that I have to join my friends, I pound the drink back, setting the glass on the bar top.

I don’t want to be falling down drunk, but being a little tipsy is fine with me. I’m already feeling the buzz shimmying through my body, so I’m going to cut myself off. As I stand there, I find eyes on me again, and I bite down on my bottom lip. It’s a terrible tell that I have, but I can’t shake it. I don’t like attention, but today is my birthday and I don’t want to be a party pooper.

My father says I should learn to control my expressions because it’s dangerous in his world to give away your emotions. I don’t care about it, though. My father’s world and mine are so far apart. The mob isn’t anything I have to do with and hope to never get involved in. I shivered when he suggested a man for me to date. My dad loves me, but to him a good man is the head or the future head of one of the families. I shake my head to rid myself of the idea of me with a mobster. Never going to happen.

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