Page 6 of Anywhere

Leaning over, I hit the button on the small compartment and pulled out my small baggie of pills. I’d been preparing to kick the habit the moment the next ritual moon passed, and I could finally be set free of Rook. Or at least set free enough that I didn’t need to take drugs to cope, but that was not fucking today.

Reaching into the baggie of colourful pills, I grabbed three. Tossing them in my mouth, I swallowed them down dry and put the rest of my stash away. Unbuckling Tabitha, I brought the guitar to my lips and gave her a kiss.

“You’ll always be my leading lady,” I said to the instrument and rubbed my hand down the red and white body. “Well, come on then. Let’s get this show goin’.”

I stepped out into the sunlight. I didn’t care that it was early. I was planning on getting myself shit-faced. Then when I went home—if I went home—I was gonna tell this Rook that he could suck my cock or fucking leave, but I wanted nothing to do with him.

Reject me? No one rejected me and then put me through the wringer. I was fucking Rhys McGregor, and he was gonna learn real fast what that name meant.

The smell of stale smoke was like a breath of fresh air, and I took a deep drag of the sweet aroma. Only a few people were here at this hour, but once night fell, this place would be banging. By then, I’d be three bottles of brandy deep and singin’ better than Rook on that stage.

“Well, hello, lass,” I said and smacked the waitress’s ass as she walked through the kitchen door. Caitlin yelped and smiled when she recognized who it was.

“Back so soon? Couldn’t get enough of me cunt, could ya?” Caitlin flicked up the front of her kilt to show off the sweet little pussy I’d been buried in only a night ago. The girl never wore underwear, and I can’t say that I complained much about it.

“I might be persuaded for another round. Is your friend workin’ tonight?” I asked and shivered as the first round of oh fuck yes hit my body from the little happy pills I’d ingested. Sparkly balls danced around the room, and I watched them swirl and twist as they shifted from shades of gold to blue and then red in time to the music softly pumping through the speakers.

“Me friend? Ya mean the friend ya can’t remember the name of?” She giggled, her hazel eyes filled with humour. “Aye, she be, but it ain’t no night around here yet,” Caitlin smiled as she walked to the bar, and I followed her like a dog scenting a female’s heat. Maybe I was. My cock certainly thought we were and was making a big old tent in the front of my kilt. Laying the tray down, she turned and squealed as she bumped into me. Laying a hand on the bar, I trapped her in place.

“What would you say to an early performance?” I asked and leaned in to give her neck a soft kiss.

“Kyle, my boss, is an arse and….”

“Fuck ‘im. You wanna be wit me? I’ll make sure he dinnie fire ya. My money tends to speak loud.” I ran my fingers down her bare shoulder and peered down the low-cut top to the treasure she was hiding beneath the thin cotton. “Especially when it’s gettin’ late in da month.”

No one knew that the actual owner of the pub was me. It wasn’t something I wanted advertised around, and the tall Scottish bloke I hired to fill the role had a nasty gambling habit. He was all too keen to work for room and board and to have his debts paid down from time to time. Too bad his debts had always belonged to me, so really, he should be happy I wasn’t breaking his legs or tossing his ass in the ocean.

Caitlin bit her lip as the hand I trailed down her side slid back up her leg and under the kilt to her tight sex. Swirling my finger around, I rubbed the wetness of her arousal before bringing the finger to her lips. She opened her mouth and sucked my fingers in with a moan.

“You don’t have to, lass,” I said, giving her a wicked grin.

“You be an arse, McGregor, ya know dis, aye?” Caitlin didn’t wait for another sarcastic reply and dragged me toward the back of the pub. My life might be crumbling down around me, but I sure as fuck wasn’t letting it kick me in the teeth on the way down.

“Aye, I know.”

Rook

You couldn’t get me off this tin can fast enough. I was standing at the door, waiting for it to open before we even came to a stop. Now that I was here, the anger I’d managed to tame was brewing once more. I would find a way to pay my father and brothers back for this shit.

The engines finally began to shut down, and I could hear people yelling outside a moment before a knock came for me to open the door. The captain hadn’t stepped foot into the cabin area since the near-death experience, and the fact he was still in the cockpit made me think he was saying his prayers. To a false God, mind you, but again, that was something the Flitters didn’t know.

Pushing the door open, I got out of the plane and pulled off my wraparounds to look up at the dark, overcast sky. As luck would have it, a raindrop fell directly into my eye.

“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled and shook my head to rid it of the water, which felt like an ice shard. I put my shades back on and stomped down the metal stairs toward the overly perky man waiting at the bottom.

“Master Adair, how good it is ta see ya. Da last time me saw ya, yer were but a wee lad,” the man said.

I stared at him like he had two heads. What the hell had he just said to me? The accent was so thick that all I caught was “Master Adair” and “lad.”

“Ar’ya okay, sir?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed. “Can you repeat what you said but slower?”

“Oh, aye, certainly, sir. I. Forgotten. Ya’re. No. Accustomed. Ta. Me. Accent,” he said.

Giving him a weak smile, I decided to try again. “What’s your name?” I asked. My eyes scanned the private airfield for any sign of the limo.

“Me name be Illiam, sir.”