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38. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Live music resonated from the stage inside the musky, old pub as Chase took a seat at the bar near the pool tables. It wasn’t usually the type of place he went to, but he had spare time for a drink, and wasn’t feeling the motivation to go into a place with more energy. On settling down, he quickly ordered a beer before studying the pub in finer details. The place had a rundown, small town feel to it, but it had its own unique flare and was reasonably packed with the odd space here and there.

Truthfully, he would have preferred a higher end establishment, but Pete and the guys at work liked to go out for drinks and mess around after hours Friday nights, and Chase didn’t want to accidentally run into them. They would get nosy on why he refused to join their fun – especially Pete – and Chase didn’t want to admit he had a date. In fact, to avoid their possible harassment, he had run off right after work with the intentions of going straight home, but much to his frustration and annoyance, Krislynn had called right about then and forbid him to come home any time earlier than 6:45.

At first he was suspicious. The possibility of a catastrophe happening at home while he had been away at work was extremely high, but then he heard giggling in the background – recognizably Michelle’s annoying laughter – and just left it at that.

Chase checked the time on his Cartier watch as the bartender set down a beer in front of him. He had dropped by his studio office downtown and already taken a shower and changed his clothes there for convenience, yet it was just passed six and he had at least half an hour before he needed to get going.

Sighing, he slapped a twenty on the counter. “Keep the change.”

The bartender nodded appreciatively and Chase took a sip of his beer before he turned around and checked the place out for girls. He was quickly disappointed to find that the male patrons in the pub massively out-numbered the female, and even among the females, not a lot could be said about them. There were a few good-looking ones, but most of them were either trashy or way too old.

Chase had never quite understood the attractiveness in older women, and as far as he knew, it wasn’t Seth’s either. It was more of Pete’s thing – though for some reasons, Chase had always found that strangely befitting.

Not like it would have mattered if there, in fact, was a young stunner at the bar. He wouldn’t have approached her and even if she approached him, Chase wouldn’t have been interested.  

Still, old habits are hard to die, and he frequently found himself checking out girls regardless of interest or not. He would label them based on attractiveness, and even if he led them on a little, his mind didn’t wander far from what it really was – something to past away time. He still had his masculine urges, but they were more or less tamer than they were before.

It was a recent phenomenon, he realized, but he wasn’t quite sure how recent – whether it started a little bit after he met LaCienega... or a little bit after he met Krislynn. Shaking the thought out of his head, his mind backtracked and landed on LaCienega.

LaCienega.

LaCienega.

He raised one eyebrow as he stared fixatedly at the familiar figure. LaCienega! 9 o’clock. Down the bar by the jukebox. Why hadn’t he noticed her before, and more importantly, what the hell was she doing in a place like this all by herself?

Just as the very thought made its debut, a muscular and rather shady looking man about his mid thirties approached her, and after a short conversation back and forth, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her off her bar stool. “Let me go,” she shouted, and though people stopped to stare, no one came to her rescue.

“Stop being such a fucking tease!” With another rough tug, LaCienega tumbled into his body as if she were nothing more than a ragdoll. “I sent you a drink. Why are all you women like this?”

“I did not drink it,” she spat, motioning to the untouched martini sitting in front of the stool beside hers. “I brought my own! Stop touchi–”

“So what?!” He bellowed, followed with a crude laugh. “I still paid for the damn thing. Not gunna get a refund back, now am I?”

Before Chase could restrain himself, he was halfway across the room, standing right behind the shitty excuse of a man. “Hey you.”

Scowling, obviously ticked off that he was being bothered, the man quickly turned around. “What does a pansy like you–”

All Chase heard was the wind – a loud whoosh as his arm swung forward and his fist cut across the stranger’s face. He felt teeth dig into his knuckles, blood splatter on his hand, and wasn’t so sure who it really belonged too. Like a tumour on the head, his entire hand throbbed in pain, but that didn’t stop him from taking his opponent while he was still taken back, and swiftly knocked him over a table before climbing on top and smashing his hand into his face over and over – till he never wanted to show that thing to people ever again.

He could hear the drums and the guitar playing behind him, more vibrantly than before, as if the band suddenly got inspired by his rogue behaviour. People were gathering now, shouting insults, shouting cheers, whatever got them a better show. LaCienega’s voice, too, echoed in the background, though it strained to take the effect all the other sounds had on him. “Chase, stop it! That’s enough! Stop it!”

His fist paused mid-air, and that was all it took for the man below him, who could have easily been twice his size, to smash his skull into Chase. A growl came out of his lips as he was quickly knocked back, and then again, when a fist flew straight into his face.  

For a moment, the tables turned, and Chase struggled to fight back, but then his mind calmed and he managed to back away before taking his stance. “What pretty boy? Scared now?” The man grinned revealing a trail of sparsely missing yellow teeth as he stood a good few metres away from Chase. “Caught me by surprise before. Not so tough anymore, are you?”

Chase smirked. He could taste the blood on his lips, and spat out the taste of iron before turning back to his opponent. “You’re talking pretty big for a guy that’s gunna be picking my shit off the floor with his tongue in three minutes.”

Eyes filled with fury, the stranger charged at him. “I’m going to make you weep for your mommy in three minutes you fucking punk!”

Chase stood his ground and waited for the scoundrel to come to him. His entire being felt feather-light and smoothly evaded the first attack before his body started fighting on instinct alone. Every muscle in his body remembered the years of kickboxing as a hobby, and in a matter of three minutes – just like he had said – Chase ended the fight with a violent kick to his opponent’s stomach.

Tables and chairs were knocked over everywhere and glasses and beer bottles were shattered all over the ground. Suddenly feeling a bit woozy, he felt a gentle tug at his sleeve and found LaCienega by his side. She looked up at him, petrified, her eyebrows furrowed together in concern. “We’d be smart to leave,” she said and hastily pulled him out of the bar before the owners could finish dialling for the cops.

Chase could only tumble after her, his vision fading in and out as he felt blood tickling down his face. Out on the streets, people stared at him in terror as they rushed passed. He didn’t even know what he looked like, but then caught the reflection of himself on a department store window and groaned.

His forehead looked fine, but he was still feeling the after effects of that painful skull bash, which was slowly making him dizzy. His left eyebrow had a huge gash running through it, blood spilling out and over his eye, which was already red and starting to swell up from being punched. No doubt he was going to end up with a black eye tomorrow morning.

Shit, he thought, I even have a date tonight in...

Groaning, he glanced over at his watch, but was disappointed to find the top glass shattered, and the hands completely off track. No time to complain, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. 6:47. No new messages.

If he didn’t want to be super late, he had to go now. “Hey LaCienega–”

“I cannot believe you just went in there and hit him.” She let go of his shirt sleeve before turning around to face him, her face tortured with guilt. “What if something happened to you? He was so much bigger!”

Chase snorted as he shifted on his feet. “I beat him up didn’t I?”

She stared at him, unconvinced. “But look at what cost? You could have easily asked the owners to get security. You could have easily called the cops. That would have...” Her voice grew quiet. “That would have been what Jace would have done. Instead, you just charged in there and look what happened.”

“Well I–” His words died on his lips as he realized how much of a distraught she was in from the scene back at the bar, and almost automatically, he lowered his eyes and said, “I’m sorry... for acting without thinking.”

LaCienega’s eyes widened in surprise before a faint smile crept on her lips. She looked away after, failing to notice the look of surprise on Chase’s own face. He hadn’t realized when he learned to apologize so professionally. A few months ago, it would have been hard to even get the words ‘I’m sorry’ out of him, but now he was not only apologizing, but stating why he was. It was almost as if he was a different person.

“Apology accepted,” she murmured. “I still can’t believe you fought that guy off for me.” She shook her head, her brown hair swaying in the night breeze as her infinite brown eyes met his gaze. One hand raised, her fingers swept gently across his cheek, brushing off a trickle of blood. “I don’t... I don’t even understand you,” she whispered. “Why is it that you keep looking out for me even when I’ve done nothing but push you away?”

Chase twitched at her touch before staring at his feet. “I wasn’t really fighting him for you.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Oh? Then what for?”

“He... He...” Chase searched deep in his head for some sort of excuse. “He... called me a pansy,” he finally blurted. “Yeah. That’s right! I was going to tell him to kindly piss off, but then he turned around and called me a pansy so I punched him.”

LaCienega giggled, which was something Chase had never witnessed before. “An– Anyways,” he continued. “What were you doing in a place like that anyways? Did something happen with–”

“Jace?” Her frail shoulders raised and fell in a soft shrug before she took out a Louis Vuitton emblem handkerchief and wiped the blood off her fingers. “We’re fine,” she replied. “He’s just been over working on a case for this un-classy socialite from New York. That’s all.”

“So why were you in a place like that?”

She shrugged again before taking a seat on one of the benches along the sidewalk. “It wasn’t a place I usually went to. Why were you in there?”

“About the same reason.” Chase took another quick glance at the phone. 6:56. No new messages. “Hey, did you want me to give you a quick lift home or did you drive here?”

LaCienega stretched her legs in front of her. “I don’t want to go home,” she said. “There’s nothing there.”

Chase hesitated. Downtown L.A wasn’t thoroughly known for its safety after 5 o’clock, but he needed to get going, and didn’t want to leave her behind. “Do you want to call a friend?” He suggested. “I’ll wait here with you till–”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to see them.” Her eyes lifted then. “I just want to sit here and breathe for a while. You can go first. I’ll call a cab in a bit. I’ll be fine.”

“And after what happened earlier in the pub, do you still expect me to believe that?” Sighing, he took a seat beside her. “Ten minutes,” he said. “Then I’m taking you home.”

LaCienega didn’t say anything and stared absentmindedly into the streets as Chase took out his phone once more. 7:02. One new Message.

Krislynn: Just to let you know, you could come home now. :P

Sighing, he slipped the phone back inside his pocket before waiting out the next ten minutes. When it finally came and gone, Chase stood up and tried to persuade LaCienega to leave, but she was a lot more stubborn than she looked, and refused to submit to his bidding. “I’m not going home Chase,” she insisted. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Well what are you going to do out here all by yourself?” He shouted. “Just sit?”

Her eyes lit up and she shyly pushed a strand of loose hair behind her ears before smiling up at him. “Do you want to go for a drive?” Chase frowned and she immediately reflected back the same look on his face. “No. You have plans tonight, don’t you? You kept checking your phone.”

Chase pulled out his phone again as he felt it vibrate.

Krislynn: Hey. You alright? Text me back when you get a chance.

“Look,” he grumbled. “If I took you for a quick drive, would you go home after without a compliant?”

LaCienega smiled up eagerly and nodded her head. “Without a word,” she promised. Sighing, a bit reluctant, Chase led her to his car, and gave her a quick spin around town.

With the top of the convertible down, wind brushed gently through LaCienega’s hair as if it were scared to put a strand of her beautiful mane out of place. Chase felt his phone vibrate several times in that interval, but didn’t take his hands off the steering wheel as he listened to LaCienega’s voice sing along to the radio. She was so much more cheerful than she usually was, he thought, and then realized this was usually the way she behaved when she spoke, and only spoke, to Jace – that happy, eager to please, atmosphere.

A huge part of him was excited of course. After all, she had finally somewhat accepted him – even after everything that happened in Santa Monica last weekend – yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a bit rushed. She looked like an angel against the shimmering city lights, and Chase only glanced her way a few times, his focus almost equally divided between the road in front of him and the time display on his car. 7:47.

When LaCienega suggested stopping in front of a park a few minutes later, Chase quickly obliged and parked his car on the curb before glancing at his phone. 7 missed calls. 4 new messages.

Krislynn: You’re not picking up your phone. Can you call me back when you get this?

Krislynn: Hey, are you going to be back soon?

Krislynn: I hope it’s just traffic...

Krislynn: Chase, you’re scaring me.  

“Hey Chase?” Distracted, Chase looked up to see that LaCienega had already gotten out of the car. “Are you coming?”

His phone vibrated in his hand, and he swiftly looked down to see the picture he had taken the other day – the one with Krislynn and him sticking out their tongues, cheeks pressed against each other – and felt his heart wrench. He wanted to text her back something, at least tell her he was fine, but he was positive she’d have other questions and he wasn’t really sure how he’d answer them without making it sound bad.

“Chase?”

He looked up at LaCienega for a second before closing the top of his convertible. “Yeah, I’m coming,” he murmured, and then reluctantly got out of the car, leaving his still vibrating phone behind so he didn’t have to carry the guilt with him.