Dirty, Rotten Bastard
Seven
“Can I get a fucking beer already!?” Billie yelled over the voices of several others as he sat at the bar, receiving dirty looks from a few people who’d been waiting much longer than him as the bartender finally turned his way.
“Sorry, we’re understaffed tonight. What’ll it be?”
“You looking to hire?”
“Why, you interested?” The bartender gave Billie that look people gave him when they recognised his face, but they weren’t sure why.
“I know a young woman that would be interested.”
“Oh? She pretty?”
“She’s fucking… beautiful,” Billie said, slightly ashamed of himself afterwards. But hey, that was merely a fact.
“Well, let her know we're interested.” Billie hoped he’d remember after the night was done.
“You bastard!” Billie had answered his phone, expecting a worried wife and receiving a screaming stranger. “You have kids! You fucker! How am I supposed to forget this happened!? How am I supposed to live with myself now!?”
“I don’t know. Just tell me what to say,” Billie said, barely able to get the words out. He wanted to disappear. Already he had retreated to the darkest corner of the bar. A few women wearing My Chemical Romance shirts had walked in, and he couldn’t take that chance. He was always too familiar. He could never hide. He noticed Bridget had gone quiet all of a sudden and thought for a moment he’d heard a sniffle. “I got you a job.”
“You what?” He could hear the tears in her voice, but her newfound confusion seemed to have stopped them. “Where?”
“It’s at a bar. They said they were looking for someone so I gave them your name. You should probably come in tomorrow. I’ll text you the address.”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice was quiet, cautious, and he could sense her anger was one misworded sentence away from exploding down the line at him once more.
“I just wanted to help you out. You seem like a nice young woman. That’s all. I swear.”
“Thank you.” Billie smiled as the line went dead, putting his phone away and trading it for his beer once more.
Mind the vase by the door, Billie. He stumbled back as he almost knocked it over, remembering Adrienne’s little reminders she gave almost every time they walked through the door. Take off your shoes if they’re dirty. He looked to his feet, unable to tell what shoes he had on, let alone if they were dirty. He decided to take them off, anyway, struggling with the last and falling onto the couch in the process of removing it. Mmm, is this how you like it? His eyes rolled back as he felt his pants tighten, remembering what it felt like to have her breathing down his neck like that, her teeth sinking into that spot only she knew about. He thought about her hands as they travelled down his chest, his breath hitching one last time before he passed out.
“For fuck’s sake, Billie!” Adrienne hissed, looking behind her to make sure the kids were still in the kitchen. “Would you get your hand out of your pants and take yourself to the bathroom? They don’t need to see this. I don’t need to see this.” Billie’s eyes fluttered open and down to his crotch, his cheeks flushing as he recalled the previous night and ripped his hand from his underwear. He grimaced as he felt a sticky substance and ignored the face Adrienne pulled as she saw, too. He zipped himself up and took himself to the bathroom, undressing and taking a moment to stare at the man in the mirror. The warm water felt good against his back as he stepped into the shower and the splashes were loud enough to hide his sobbing. He wanted his love back; that raw, passionate love of his. Adrienne.
“Sorry, we’re understaffed tonight. What’ll it be?”
“You looking to hire?”
“Why, you interested?” The bartender gave Billie that look people gave him when they recognised his face, but they weren’t sure why.
“I know a young woman that would be interested.”
“Oh? She pretty?”
“She’s fucking… beautiful,” Billie said, slightly ashamed of himself afterwards. But hey, that was merely a fact.
“Well, let her know we're interested.” Billie hoped he’d remember after the night was done.
“You bastard!” Billie had answered his phone, expecting a worried wife and receiving a screaming stranger. “You have kids! You fucker! How am I supposed to forget this happened!? How am I supposed to live with myself now!?”
“I don’t know. Just tell me what to say,” Billie said, barely able to get the words out. He wanted to disappear. Already he had retreated to the darkest corner of the bar. A few women wearing My Chemical Romance shirts had walked in, and he couldn’t take that chance. He was always too familiar. He could never hide. He noticed Bridget had gone quiet all of a sudden and thought for a moment he’d heard a sniffle. “I got you a job.”
“You what?” He could hear the tears in her voice, but her newfound confusion seemed to have stopped them. “Where?”
“It’s at a bar. They said they were looking for someone so I gave them your name. You should probably come in tomorrow. I’ll text you the address.”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice was quiet, cautious, and he could sense her anger was one misworded sentence away from exploding down the line at him once more.
“I just wanted to help you out. You seem like a nice young woman. That’s all. I swear.”
“Thank you.” Billie smiled as the line went dead, putting his phone away and trading it for his beer once more.
Mind the vase by the door, Billie. He stumbled back as he almost knocked it over, remembering Adrienne’s little reminders she gave almost every time they walked through the door. Take off your shoes if they’re dirty. He looked to his feet, unable to tell what shoes he had on, let alone if they were dirty. He decided to take them off, anyway, struggling with the last and falling onto the couch in the process of removing it. Mmm, is this how you like it? His eyes rolled back as he felt his pants tighten, remembering what it felt like to have her breathing down his neck like that, her teeth sinking into that spot only she knew about. He thought about her hands as they travelled down his chest, his breath hitching one last time before he passed out.
“For fuck’s sake, Billie!” Adrienne hissed, looking behind her to make sure the kids were still in the kitchen. “Would you get your hand out of your pants and take yourself to the bathroom? They don’t need to see this. I don’t need to see this.” Billie’s eyes fluttered open and down to his crotch, his cheeks flushing as he recalled the previous night and ripped his hand from his underwear. He grimaced as he felt a sticky substance and ignored the face Adrienne pulled as she saw, too. He zipped himself up and took himself to the bathroom, undressing and taking a moment to stare at the man in the mirror. The warm water felt good against his back as he stepped into the shower and the splashes were loud enough to hide his sobbing. He wanted his love back; that raw, passionate love of his. Adrienne.