Page 49 of Dare You to Run
Come to think of it, that is one thing that Danté and I are very similar on. Neither of us likes the way the wordsI’m sorrytaste in our mouths. It’s easier to just never say it. Dagen, however, seems to be able to eat crow. The sorry’s just keep rolling off my tongue. And to tell you the truth, the taste isn’t all that horrible as I expected it to be.
“Yeah, man. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” This is the only thing I can think of to say, because I refuse to lay any ground for another dispute, which it could very well turn into.
He breathes deep then goes on. “So are you and Dagen together or what’s the deal?”
I turn up my face, thinking of the best way to answer. “I mean, for now I guess. We’re just fucking around since she’s only here for another week. After that, she’ll go back to her life and I’ll go back to mine.”
Danté goes eerily quiet, the sound of my heart pounding in my ears as I wait to hear his response.
“Cool. So do you want to come by the bar tonight? I know you’re usually tired after work, but Mal is coming by and a few of the guys.”
When Danté says “the guys” he means the assholes we ride with from time to time. Some I like, a few I tolerate, and the rest I loathe. I usually stay silent when we’re all together, ignoring most and chatting with the few who want to talk bikes and cars. I don’t ask personal questions, I don’t know anything about them beyond what they ride, and I like it that way.
D and Malik talk more with them, Mal just being a nice guy and Danté wanting others to envy and fear him. I just don’t give a fuck.
But he’s extending an olive branch and I’d be the asshole to push him away.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll call Dagen and see if she’d like to join us, if that’s alright with you.”
“I already talked to Mal and he texted Kins. She said they’ll meet us there after dinner. So just head straight over when you’re done at the shop.” My possible last way out is derailed with his quick thinking.
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
“See ya.” We both hang up and I set about wasting every last minute of the work day, thinking about Dagen about the return to my life once she leaves.
A return to the dark and dank life I seem to find myself in every day of my miserable life.
I pull up to our bar and park my bike right in front, next to Mal’s. I see Danté’s car parked in his usual spot, and spot Kins’ big ole blue taking up two spaces in the back. I pull off my helmet and tuck it under my arm, walking into the bar and greeting our bouncers with my usual head nod.
The bar is busy with guys and girls crowding it for drinks, and our two bartender’s busting ass to meet the orders. I search the rest of the faces for Dagen’s, not even thinking twice about the guys who are here.
I spot her standing with Kinsley near a booth and she throws her head back in laughter. Her lips are spread wide and her face is full of youth and light. The contrast between the two of us is yet again so easy to see.
I make a quick detour to the office where I sit my helmet on the couch and toss my gloves inside of it. My jacket gets hung on the stand and I give myself a quick check in the small mirror before walking out. I don’t usually care what I look or smell like when I’m grabbing a drink after work, but I’ve never really cared to impress anyone before.
I step out into the mass again and beeline for the booth where a group is gathered. The laughter grows louder as I near, but so does my rage when I see the men gathered around her.
Paolo sits at the edge of the booth with his hand resting on Dagen’s hip. I feel a buzzing in my head and my vision blurs, only Danté’s smarmy grin outshining everything around.
“You want to take your fucking hand off of her, Paolo?” I growl and Dagen spins her head to meet me.
“Hey! You’re here.” She lunges for me and throws her arms around my neck, the smell of alcohol wafting off her breath.
“Wassup, Henny? I was just talking with our new friend, Dagen.” Paolo smiles at me with the fakest one I’ve seen yet.
“She’s not your anything Paolo, so it’ll behoove you to remember that and keep your hands to yourself. Got it?”
Out of the corner or my eye, I see Danté raise his glass to his mouth, covering up the smirk that he just can’t seem to let go.
Paolo holds his hands up in defense. “Woah, Henny. Chill out man. We were just talking.”
“Yeah, Henny,” Danté chimes in. “They’re just talking. Why are you getting so upset? It’s not like she’s your girl or anything. You’re just fucking, right?”
My blood boils, bubbling over the lid and billowing out of my ears. My teeth grind painfully as I stare him down. The urge to wrap my hands around Danté’s neck and watch his eyes bulge with fear intensifies.
Dagen releases me and takes a step away from my reach. She’s probably processing the words that came from Danté. The very same ones I told him when I didn’t want to divulge that I was looking at Dagen as more than just another fuck buddy who I’d forget in a few months.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, D? Do you have a problem because from where I stand, it sure as fuck seems like it.” I step up to him as he stays seated at the table with an arm thrown over the back of the leather upholstered bench.
