Bending Steele

Chapter Twenty-Eight

He watched as a sexy, dark haired beauty stumbled out from around the side of the Kit Cat Club. She was tall, lean and drunker than a sailor on shore leave. He sat up, watching as she fumbled around in her bag for a few minutes until she pulled out a pack of smokes. She must have come out of the employee exit in the back, he thought. Which means...drunk beauty was an employee.

Smiling to himself, he exited the POS and leaned causally against the hood as she continued staggering towards him. Digging around in her fucking purse with an unlit smoke dangling from her lips, she was oblivious to the world.

"Hey beautiful, need a light?" He slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out his trusty zippo, flicking it open and lighting it in one smooth, casual move.

Her head jerked up out of her bag.

Fuck me! He had to swallow back his revulsion. She had a face only Freddy Krueger could love with a scar that played connect the dots from her temple all the way down to the side of her mouth. Leaving the right side of what use to be full lips, turned down into a disfiguring scowl.

She blinked furiously at him. Obviously, suffering from an advanced state of beer goggles. "It's okay, sweetheart. I don't bite." He lifted the flame a little closer to her smoke, waving it around gently to encourage her to use it.

A few more seconds ticked by before she brought a shaky hand up and cupped the flame to her cigarette. As she puffed, he noticed she had green eyes which probably would have been kind of pretty...if they weren't bloodshot to hell.

"Thanks," she muttered, inhaling deeply. "I didn't think anyone smoked anymore." She blew out a long stream.

He chuckled. "Yeah, we're a dying breed in this politically correct world."

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his own pack and slipped one between his lips. Lighting it, he closed the zippo with a flourished snap on the side of his leg before putting it back in his pants. Noticing her gaze following his movements, he grinned. Chicks loved the lighter tricks.

"I didn't see you inside," she slurred the statement.

"Not really my scene." He puffed on his smoke, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah...not mine either." She turned towards the gleaming pair of cat eyes hanging off the side of the building. "Not anymore," she said bitterly, taking a deep drag off her cigarette. Turning back to him, she looked him up and down. A sensual grin curled one side of her mouth while the other side only grimaced deeper. "You want to party?" Weaving a few steps closer to him, she ran a chipped, blue lacquered nail down the zipper of his leather jacket.

Hiding a wince from her fucked up face, he smiled down at her. "Sure, beautiful." Walking to the passenger side of the POS, he opened the door and helped pour her in.

Climbing into the driver's side, he flicked what was left of his smoke towards the club. At least the good looking side was facing him, he thought as he started the engine.

*******

Adam stood outside on the balcony of his luxurious suite, sipping a glass of red wine at the Cincinnatian Hotel. He was 700 miles away from Abigail, but she was so prominent in his thoughts, she might as well had been standing right next to him.

A chilly wind blew and he inhaled it deeply. He had hoped the cold which was pricking his skin, would clear his mind so he could continue with the hours of paper work still ahead of him. But, unless he wanted to go skinny dipping in the frigid Ohio River, he was SOL.

Turning, he strode back into his room. The fucking guilt was eating him alive, he thought as he paced in front of the fake, burning fireplace. Adam dropped his head. He should have never told Jonathan to do the background check, but the wheels were already in motion and couldn't be stopped.