Knockout

Chapter 7

~Marshall's P.O.V.~

The cake cutting didn't last long. Or maybe I was too busy staring at her. I'm sitting at the table now, still recovering from our encounter. I know she doesn't mean any of it, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. My heart feels heavy and I glance over to her table. From what I can see, she's not there. I glance around the room. Where did she go?
Ironically, when I circle back to looking behind me, she's standing right behind my chair. I open my mouth to speak but she clamps her hand around my forearm and pulls on me. Willingly I get up, unsure exactly what's happening. She yanks me towards the lobby section of the ballroom, stumbling repeatedly over her shoes. Is she drunk?
She pulls me into the lobby, away from everyone else at the wedding. She leads me into a secluded part of the lobby, where there are no people, no employees, just us. And when she turns around I can tell she's been crying. I can also smell the booze on her. If the wrong person sees her like this and finds out her age, it's going to get ugly.

"Rach-" I start but she cuts me off.

"No. You don't get to talk." She slurs at me, her body swaying with imbalance. "I am so mad right now."

"At me?" I ask her, preparing to catch her if and when she falls over.

"No not at you Marshall." She shakes her head and then regains balance momentarily. " I'm mad because I am in love with you."

I'm unsure what to say. This conversation is making me uncomfortable. I don't know if it's the alcohol talking or if she actually means it. Part of her has to mean it.

"Rachel you're drunk." I say calmly. "Let me take you home."

I reach out to try and get a hold on her but she squirms out of it.

"I have tried so hard to stay away." She tells me, taking a step forward. "But I can't do it." She shakes her head again and places her hand on the wall to keep from tripping. "And I'm mad because I want to be with you even though I hate your job, and your jealousy, and your promises."

"Baby lets go. If you still feel that way tomorrow we can talk about it then." I secure a hold on her upper arm and lead her towards the front of the hotel.

"Where are we going?" She asks, leaning into me for support. "Does Thatcher know where I am?"

"You can call him from your house." I tell her, pushing the door to the hotel open and leading us into the parking lot.

"I don't want to go to my house." She slurs. "I want to go to your house."

"No." I say with calm authority, and it pains me to say it. "All that shit Thatcher let you drink is making you think you want to come with me. But the you two hours ago didn't want anything to do with me."

"Then come to my house with me." She huffs, and I open the car door for her.

"Only until Thatcher gets back." I tell her, closing the door and going to my side. "I don't want you to do anything stupid if I leave you alone."

***

The walk up to her house is unnerving. Rachel trips continuously, grabbing my bicep in hopes not to topple over. I don't like seeing her this way. I make a mental note to scream at him when he gets here. How could he let her drink so much? She's only nineteen, it's not even legal.
After a long hike to her front door, she struggles to get the keys in the lock. I wrap my arm around her waist to hold her up and take the keys from her, opening the door. She kicks off her shoes and shrinks five inches. She grips the railing of the stairs and uses it to pull herself up. I stand behind her, ready to catch her at any second. We reach the top of her stairs and she walks right into her room. I stand in the doorway, leaning on the threshold.