"It is your twenty-seventh birthday, you cannot just stay home in your pajamas eating Ben and Jerry's ice cream while rewatching Sweet Home Alabama and Grease," Tamara complains over the phone.
"I just don't feel like getting all dressed up and going out. I'm getting closer to thirty. I feel too old now."
"You did not just say that!" Tamara's worst nightmare is turning thirty.
"T, why don't you come over?"
"It's a Saturday night." But it's my birthday I want to say.
"Hold on, someone's at my door. Call you back."
Making my way over to the door, I grab a fuzzy blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around my tank top and shorts and slippy socks.
A peek through the hole shows my infuriating neighbor.
"I know your home."
Slowly I open the door to see him holding a big box. I tilt my head in confusion, "Do you plan on shipping my body?"
"Very funny, it's a package for you. I grabbed it on the way up. May I come in to drop it off?" That is oddly nice of him.
"Sure..." I eye him suspiciously as he walks into the kitchen and places the package on the table. "Well thanks."
I grab the scissor to open the package and notice Nico is still standing next to my table. "I heard tomorrow's your birthday."
"I'm not even going to ask how you know," I grumble.
"Big plans?"
"Hanging out here."
I start cutting open the box. "That's it? No going out or clubs?"
"I'm more of a low-key person," I mutter distracted as I try to make sense of what is in the box.
"Sweatpants and movie marathon?" Am I that predictable?
Carefully I pull out a plastic wrapped object and drop it with a slight scream. My hands shake as I bring them up to my hair trying to breathe.
Nico is there in a flash glancing into the box before cursing. I slowly rock my body trying to calm down until Nico appears in front of me and grabs my forearms. "Look at me," he says sharply, and it works. "You are safe. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?"
After a few minutes of staring into his eyes and breathing I start to feel calm and safe enough to speak, "Is that really a..."
"Human hand? It seems so. I'm going to grab something from my apartment quick and then I'll be right back, okay?"
I start to grip him harder, "No."
"I promise you. Close your eyes and count to sixty."
I nod then close my eyes. By the time I reached fifty-seven, I felt his comforting touch on my shoulder. "I'm back."
I watch as he puts on a pair of black gloves before moving towards the box. Thankfully he doesn't pull out the hand again. "There's a note."
"You read it."
Nico clears his throat, "To my dearest Calliope, I removed the hand of a man that thought he could touch what's mine. Let this be a message to everyone that you are still mine and will forever be mine. With love."
Tears stream down my cheeks as I shake. He found me. Again. Nico grabs me to save me from crashing into the floor and carries me over to the couch and just holds me as I sob.
"He...found....me." I bury my face in Nico's neck as he rubs my back and makes soothing sounds. Now if someone had told me yesterday that I'd be cuddled up in my neighbors' arms crying my eyes out, I would have laughed my eyes out.
"He won't get a chance to hurt you."
"I shouldn't be surprised that you know who I'm talking about."
"Your ex is a scumbag, but you're safe here."
"Until you kicked me out in less than three weeks."
"Don't worry about that right now. Just relax."
***
Murmurings pull from sleep. I must have fallen asleep on Nico. Somehow he wiggled his way out and covered me with a blanket.
"How the fuck do you manage to get yourself into these shitstorms?" asks a deep gravelly voice.
"Shut up. Just clean it up and get out of here before she wakes up."
"Alright."
"Nico," I whisper calmly, "Who the hell is in my apartment?" I'm sitting up on the couch holding the side table lamp like a weapon.
"Easy, tiger. These are some friends who came to help with the situation. No need for threats."
"I haven't even begun to threaten." I say with a narrowing of my eyes at the two men behind Nico. One is similar to Nico's build with blonde hair and reminds me of a Viking. The other is skinnier with brown hair and slightly shorter, but there was something twisted in his eyes.
The Viking look-alike laughs, "You seem sweet, but have a crazy side, don't you?"
I turn to Nico, "Who is this Viking want to be and the other guy?"
"I guess I kind of do look like a Viking," the guy mutters.
Nico tells him to shut up before addressing me, "Like I said, they came to help us out. Viking as you call him is Luca and the other guy is Matteo. They're my collages."
"Collages? Pretty sure I wasn't just a collage when I bail out your ass with that busty blonde."
"Or the brunette," adds Matteo.
Great, so Nico is a man-whore, but I mean with a body and face like that...
"How do I know I can trust you? I mean You guys aren't cops, are you?"
Matteo spits on the ground in disgust as Luca looks highly offended and snaps, "We ain't no fucking pigs."
"Sorry its just they've never been any help for me, then who are you?"
"My friends," Nico says, "that's all I can tell you and after they leave you can never remember their faces. They're doing me a solid."
"Okay, fine. I'll just go into my room while you guys...work?" I shake my head and disappear into my room trying not to freak out.
I don't how much time later, Nico knocks at the door and enters. "They're gone. You can come out."
Sure enough, my kitchen is spotless with no sign of the box.
"Thank you," I turn towards Nico.
He nods then heads towards the front door but stops short of closing it. "You shouldn't spend your birthday locked away from the world."
***
"No. Freaking. Way." I state defiantly.
"Oh, come on! You look amazing!" I glare at Tamara, who wears a face-splitting grin.
"I look like I work on a corner. I bet I look just like that girl he brought home that night." I mumble the last part.
"You do not! You look sexy, trust me." She winks. "Man, I am so glad you changed your mind about going out tonight! So, what do you think?"
I decided to take Nico's advice and now Tamara and I are getting ready at her apartment because my closet lacks 'nightclub' attire and I need a break from mine. I glance in the mirror one last time, and I have to say that the woman staring back looked sexy and confident, unlike how I feel. I'm wearing a gorgeous black leather mini dress that fits like a glove and completely outside my comfort zone.
Unsurprisingly, this is the most 'conservative' dress Tamara owns for clubbing. No amount of begging can get me to change my mind on wearing my black leather combat boots. Tamara amazes me with my makeup giving me smoky eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and mascara. My long black hair is curled. Overall, I look beautiful, and I feel uncomfortable. Amazing what some makeup and clothes could do to a person.
"It's okay." I finally comment.
"Okay?" T asks in disbelief, taking a threatening step forward.
"It's amazing." I held my hands up in surrender with a smile.
"Good, now let's tear up this town!" She shouts excitedly.
...
It's your typical club with neon lights and music blasting so loud you can hear it from five streets over. There is a longer line than usual and a lot more people inside. I glance at Tamara to see that she might burst from happiness. It must be the club buzz that has everyone so excited.
"You sure you really want me to do this, considering the last and only time I went clubbing?" She stifles a laugh. "If anything like that happens again or anything bad happens, I'm blaming you!" I shout with a stern look while walking towards the club.
Walking into the massive club, the music pours into my ears. Booths outline the wall to the right, and a little farther back in the center was the dance floor, filled with sweaty bodies grinding on each other. And to the left was the sweet-looking bar, so obviously, we made our way over there first.
"Excuse me, Mr. Bartender!" Tamara shouts at a tall, skinny man with dyed black hair.
"Yes?" As he comes closer, I notice dark eyes surrounded by eyeliner.
"It's my best friends birthday," Tamara gestures towards me. "She's kind of a shut in so I'm trying to show her a good time. Think you can help us out?" She asks flirtatiously while batting her eyelashes. Overkill.
He studies me for a moment before turning back towards Tam smirking. "Yeah, I think I can help you girls out." He glances back at me. "I have just the thing for you." He poures out six glasses of something and scoots them towards us.
"What's this?" I ask.
"Shots."
"Of what?"
"Of something that will help you have fun." He answers with a knowing smirk. Weird.
"Well, here goes nothing," I mutter before choking back the three shots that burn as they slid down my throat.
***
"Tamara Judith Jones, I love you! Mr. Bartender, I love you! Everyone here, I love you!" I shout.
"Okay, Miss feeling-the-love, let's get down from the bar before you hurt yourself!" Tamara says while shaking her head and looking a little worried. Whereas the bartender was dying of laughter from behind the counter.
"Nah, I think she's good." He's getting a kick out of it.
"How did she even get up there?" She asks.
"How did you talk?" I ask thoughtfully while staring at her with my hands on my hips.
"What?" She looks at me like I have three heads.
"I don't have three heads." I pout while crossing my arms like a child.
"No one said you had three heads. Now get down here!" She's waving her arms around in exasperation.
"Oh, stop being such a worry wart!" I complain.
"Yeah, let her have fun." The bartender chirps.
"Shut up! She's going to be so pissed that she did this later on." Tamara hisses at him.
"Hey, you brought her here to have a good time, right?" He asks her.
"Yeah." She sulks.
"Then let her, so what if she'll be upset? At least at this moment, she's having fun and enjoying life! Let her have some fun and, for once, be wild and free." Tamara sighs in defeat.
Thirty minutes later...
"I want some whiskey, Captain!" I ask trying to sound serious before giggling. I was now sitting back on a stool.
"What?" The bartender, whose name we have learned is Sam, asks.
"I always wanted to say that." I laugh. "Now, whiskey!"
"Are you sure? That stuff is pretty strong, and not many people like it." He asks, unsure.
"It's my life, and I'll do what I want!" I cry out.
"Okay." He pours me a glass. I take it and swallow it all at once. "Damn girl, you can hold your breath."
I lean in and whisper seductively in his ear, "That's what my ex told me, too." I giggle at his expression when I pull away.
"Damn, you're a flirt when you're drunk." He laughs.
"Enough of this! Time to dance!" I shout and try to climb back on the bar. Key word—try.
There are a lot more people here now. With great struggle, I finally get back on top of the bar. I remove my heels and start dancing, swaying my hips from side to side without a care. Closing my eyes, I hold onto the pipe above me and let the music take control. Living out my Coyote Ugly moment. Trying to forget about the chopped-off hand that was in my apartment. When I open my eyes again, I see a large crowd of mostly men gathering around the bar, gawking at me with lust-filled eyes.
I don't care until my eyes lock with Nico's and he looks pissed.