Chapter 32| I pulled a horror movie, dumb white girl move
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"Another!" I exclaimed at the bartender with a lopsided smile.
The others around me cheered and slapped my back after I downed what was most probably my fiftieth shot of the night. At this point, my throat was numb and my mind was too hazy. I'd lost all sanity at around shot number seven.
"Give her another, Spike," a handsome, older looking man said to my right. Tony, I think his name was. I tried to wink at him but I think I just blinked both eyes really hard and almost popped a blood vessel. Let's hope he sees someone really attractive through the drunkenness.
Spike (the new bartender Rico hired a week ago when I was depressed) we named after we saw his spiky hair and tattoos and big beefy arms. He shook his head at me like I was a child. "Sorry gorgeous, no more for you," he took away my glass. "I'm getting you water,"
The crowd around me erupted in boos. I joined in too, putting a thumbs down to demonstrate my disappointment.
Spike rolled his eyes with a small smile that made me blush even past all the alcohol, and handed me a glass of water.
"Bottoms up," he grinned.
The men went loud once again and all raised their drinks to their mouths. I joined in this time, gulping back the water for the heck of it then raising the glass in the air with a cheerful cry.
"Haza!" ...it's the alcohol.
"I think you're really pretty," I blurted out to Spike once I set my glass down. I narrowed my eyes at him and pointed a finger. "You're not gay are you?"
Spike widened his eyes in humorous surprise and shook his head, smiling at me. "I think you're really pretty too, Princess. And no, I'm not gay,"
"But you'd do Theo James if you had the chance, right?"
He nodded seriously. "I'd definitely do Theo James if I had the chance." I saluted him.
Then, using my estrogenous seductive power, I grinned, leaning forward across the bar on my stomach placing a hand on his wrist. He stared at it for a couple of seconds before looking at me intensely. "Maybe you could..."Carrying on, I trailed my fingers all the way to his muscular bicep and squeezed. "...get me..." Spike gulped, staring at me with wide, lustful eyes. I moved in closer, grazing my lips across the shell of his ear. I felt him hitch a breath and grinned, before I bellowed out. "ANOTHER FUCKING SHOT!"
Instantly he pulled back, cupping his ear as I laughed with the crowd. Tony sent me a high five before snatching the bottle of tequila from behind the bar before Spike could stop him, filling up his shot glass and pushing it into my hand. "HEIDI! HEIDI! HEIDI!" Soon the whole crowd was cheering my name.
Raising the glass to an aggravated Spike, this time sending him my best controlled wink I shoved the shot down my throat and jumped up on the bar with a victorious shout.
This shit was almost cult-like. A bunch of middle aged, criminal looking men cheering on a drunk eighteen year old girl. I can't wait to explain this one to my kids in the future.
Then one of our staple restaurant songs Rico would play on the old vintage jukebox he found discarded on the street somewhere blared out and the crowd erupted into a dancing and singing chaos. My face almost split into two as I cracked an excited grin. "I love this song!"
The crowd whooped.
"Tony! Tony! Look at me, I'm going to dance!" I threw off my blazer a while back on one of the bar stools, loosening my tie whilst swaying to the music. "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie! That's amoreeeee!"
I sang to Tony as he outstretched his hand from beneath me, holding my mine as I rocked our arms from side to side. I'm pretty sure all these men were getting a good look up my skirt right now.
"Heidi, get down from there!" A voice called, but I couldn't hear as I belted out the lyrics I half knew along with the glassy eyed crowd. "Heidi! Oh, per l'amor del cazzo. Get down. What the hell are you doing?!" That same deep voice yelled, only this time it was closer to me.
(Oh, for fucks sake)
In the midst of me trying to unsuccessfully unbutton my shirt, I paused and glanced around.
It was the same bunch I'd gotten drunk with. Just a troupe of old dudes. An impressed Tony, a still pissed off Spike, and Faust.
FAUST?!
He glared at me from the ground, sea-foam eyes furious. My, the man had very nice juicy cerulean, glittering, sparkling, dazzling moist orbs.
"I won't tell you again Losièr. Get your ass down from there."
A sick sort of sobriety washed over me and I gulped. Slurring men not phased by my sudden mood change. They kept leaning against each other tiredly singing with all their hearts. I wished their wives saw this. "Oh look, my...dearest f-friend Faust who will not kill me, because...he is my dearest friend." His expression was blank as I hiccuped out the sentence. "A friend...who is very...dearest,"
Faust muttered something under his breath before grabbing my legs and tossing me over his shoulder as if I were a sack of potatoes.
If anything I was a sack of booze. I could feel the liquid swishing inside my stomach like a washing machine. My liver was not going to be my best friend anymore, I could practically hear it telling me to fuck off.
"Put me dow-oh look, it's Rico!" I waved animatedly at the man standing in front of us now once Faust put me back on my feet. I stumbled, feeling woozy and sick.
Faust placed a firm arm around my waist. "We'll speak later," this man was a giant wall of...wall. I barely reached his left pec and I was five foot seven and a half. On a good day. To be honest I'm not really that tall, but I bet even Jamal wouldn't reach Faust's shoulders and he was almost six foot.
I nodded feigning seriousness. "Yes, me too. We shall speak late-hey did you ask Maria if I could borrow her-?"
Faust grunted. Grunted. What? Was he taking a dump? Men.
"You be quiet," he ordered. "You're starting to make me regret refusing Gio when he asked to pick you up instead," I shuddered. Thank god. The boy would have definitely "accidentally" let me fall off a bridge. Or maybe just straight up push me and admit it. The boys got balls.
Rico nodded and sent me a concerned look just as Faust guided me out the door. "It seems our time has come to an end my esteemed companion, goodbye Rico! Send my love to the familia," and I blew him a kiss, except it was really just a rasberry and I wiped the saliva on Faust's black dress shirt, taking a cheeky feel of his delicious abs. He was chiseled, all hard edges like a diamond. Maybe even a rock. A really big rock. Wait, how about a diamond rock. Then again, a diamond is a rock. So maybe a diamond diamond. Or a rock rock. A diamock.
We walked out the sweltering building and I winced at the cool air. I began getting agitated by his hands around my waist, dragging me as if I weighed nothing. Which was saying something because I weighed a whole lot, majority of it was Cheetos. "I can walk fine by myself you kno-"
Faust didn't let me finish my statement and instantly let go of me. I felt myself falling, seconds away from face planting, but just in the nick of time his warm arms picked me back up again and pulled me close.
"Wanna say that again?"
"I was testing you," I muttered, patting his cheek. He was clean shaven, jaw so sharp I wanted to slice a watermelon. "Do we have watermelons?"
He gave me a look. "Not at home," before a grin took over his handsome features. "But you certainly do,"
I gave him a confused look before realising. "You dirty bastard," I slapped a sloppy hand on his chest with crimson cheeks. Yep, all muscle. Who the hell had all that muscle? What if I gave him a paper cut? Would he even bleed? Or would I just find stone?
Faust chuckled, setting me up against the car. I leaned back, staring at him like a dazed puppy. We both stood there in silence. Me trying not to breath so loud as he scanned over my face with piercing eyes, warm body pressed against mine. A sigh left his smoochable lips. "Mi prendi a calci in culo, lo sai?" I furrowed my brows. I hated when he spoke Italian in front of me so casually. Rubbing his bilingualism in my face, especially when it sounded so sensuous.
(You're going to get my ass kicked, you know that?)
He took one last look at my face, mirroring my frown as he searched for something. Then with a little shake of the head, he stepped back, letting the wind attack me as I stayed plastered to the Bentley.
"Get in the car." And that was that. Well, not exactly. I couldn't really get in the car seeing as I got hit with a wave of dizziness and forgot the concept of a door handle. I fumbled with the task, giggling to myself when my reflection in the window looked like Beetlejuice.
"Questo idiota," Faust muttered from behind me, opening the door for me. I shot him a grateful finger gun, settling into the cold leather seat with a hiss. He moved forward, putting my seatbelt on for me and I surreptitiously sniffed his hair. Faust smelt divine. I hoped he couldn't hear my heart thrashing wildly in my ribcage as his face leaned inches from mine.
(This idiot)
Stop thirsting over a murderer!
I sucked in a sharp breath when he made eye contact. For a murderer he was pretty damn delicious. So was Ted Bundy. What was it with all these good looking sociopaths?
"Sarebbe stato più facile se tu fossi stato brutto," he whispered, lips barely brushing over mine. He backed out and shut my door, leaving me with five seconds to hyperventilate to myself.
(This would have been easier if you were ugly)
I touched my lips, getting all hot again. We basically snogged. I was going to have to tell Rachel, or my mum (if I find her and dads whereabouts). My body was on high alert, the alcohol making me antsy and very aroused.
The rest of the ride home was silent, mostly consisting of me giggling at some random street light, then drooling all over Faust's leather seats in his fancy Bentley. I was starting to think he really loved Bentleys.
The thought of him brushing his lips over mine hadn't left my head and I couldn't help but fantasize of our future together. We were having our fourth kid now.
When I was five seconds away from passing out, the entire left side of my face pressed unattractively against the window, Faust stopped the car and cleared his throat. "Wake up, cucciolo. We're home,"
Nope, still not home.
I groaned, shifting in my seat until I faced him. His eyes sparkled with humour as he drank in my disheveled appearance.
Did I look like I'd been bitch slapped in the face with a cheese grater? Undoubtedly yes. I also looked like I snogged face with a cactus. "This isn't my house, pasta boy," I slurred out before opening my door and making a run for it. Just because I fantasized about the guy didn't mean I wanted to go home with him.
I heard a quiet "shit" but didn't stick to hear the rest, making my way to the black gate we'd passed through ten seconds ago.
My feet were on fire, not literal fire - metaphorical. I was running like I'd witnessed my parents doing it and decided to be unborn. My heart was pounding hard, sweat dripped down my temples, down my cleavage and my god damn thighs. I was sweating everywhere. Everywhere. Holy moly donut shop. I would never run again after this traumatic experience.
If you're wondering, I had made it out the gate, and was currently sprinting down the road. In the dark. Why the fuck was I pulling a horror movie, dumb white girl move? I should've walked into that damn station and told them the truth.
Fuck omertà.
"Cazzo! You little shit, get back here!" He screamed, gaining on me.
I glimpsed for half a second at the speedy Gonzalez behind me. He looked too composed for the way he ran. Faust was like Usain Bolt on crack.
Honestly the more I ran, the more sober I became. My lungs filled with acid and my steps began to falter. I was feeling queasy.
Heidi, you lazy, unfit bitch, keep your ass moving!
Before I could have that "you're powerful" little montage in my head and speed away like I'd been suddenly possessed by Sonic the Hedgehog, two large, rough hands grabbed me by the waist making me come to a screeching halt.
Faust's mouth was next to my ear, no sign of heavy breathing or struggle. Meanwhile I sounded like a whistling kettle. "You're going to pay for that, Losièr," he spoke darkly. I gulped. Then for the second time tonight he threw me over his broad shoulder and began walking to that god damn Italian-esque mansion.
"Put me down Faust! Right now! Or I swear to God I'll pinch your bottom so hard you'll see the stars,"
"Not really up for that right now, ask me tomorrow."
"It wasn't a question." With a frustrated groan I tried to push myself off, but his grip tightened.
"Stop stuggling amore, its pointless. You're not going anywhere,"
"I don't want to go back there. PUT ME DOWN YOU BIG SOGGY CANNOLI!" I yelled against Faust's back. Pounding and thrashing my fists and legs in his tight grip.
He tapped my butt and I froze. "No can do sweetcheeks. You and me need to have a little catch-up." And as we entered through the gates, I stared glassy eyed at the road behind it, body rigid and shaken (not stirred).
Then in a small, desperate voice I couldn't help but plead one more time, "Let me go."