“I want Zac and Adam,” she cried drunkenly, looking around her as if expecting them to suddenly appear.
“Oh,” she said, slapping at her forehead clumsily with her hand. “Dummy.” Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her phone; frustrated when she could hardly see what she was doing, her eyes blurred from alcohol and rain. Finally she managed to find her home phone number, pressing talk, holding her breath as it rang.
“Hello?” Zac’s voice was terse, worried.
“Zac?” she asked.
“Marly, thank God,” he said in relief. Then anger took over. “Do you know how much trouble you’re in, young lady? I’m going to blister your butt when you get home.”
“Zac,” she tried to interject before Adam’s voice came over the line.
“Marly, where are you?” That was Adam, always serious and to the point. Where Zac was bluster and force, Adam was calm and chill.
“I-I don’t know,” she stuttered, feeling very for herself.
“What do you mean—” Zac began before Adam shushed him.
“Think sweetheart,” Adam urged her, his voice level. “I want you take a good look around you. Is there anything around that could tell us where you are?”
She bit her lip and forced herself to look around. “We went dancing, and then I felt sick so I came outside, now I’m sitting in some dark alley and it’s raining. Adam, please come get me,” she cried.
“Marly, sweet, listen to me,” Adam said urgently. “You need to go back to your friends and find out where you are. Stand up now, and move out of the alley.”
She began to cry, not wanting to move. She was sick and tired, she just wanted to stay where she was until Zac and Adam came for her.
“Now, Marly,” Adam ordered.
She reacted to the command in his voice, clumsily getting onto her feet, not understanding why one foot was soaked and sore. Then she looked down to discover one of her shoes was missing.
“I lost a shoe,” she cried into the phone.
“Marly, focus.” Adam spoke calmly, but she could hear Zac cursing in the background.
She moved slowly and unsteadily around the corner of the building to where the entrance to the club was. A large bouncer stared down at her impassively. As she tried to move past him, he stood in her way, frowning.
“I-I have to get inside, my friends are in there,” she tried to explain.
He just shook his head.
“The bouncer won’t let me in,” she cried down her phone. How would Adam find her now? And he had to find her; she was sick and cold and tired. She wanted a hug and her bed.
“Give him the phone, sweetheart,” Adam told her. “I want to talk to him.”
Marly handed the phone up to the bouncer. “My husband wants to speak to you.”
To the bouncer’s credit he just took the phone and listened.
“She’s at The Outrider, on Mangrove Street,” the bouncer said in his deep voice. “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her ‘til you get here.”
He closed the phone and looked down at Marly. “Sit,” he barked, his voice stern.
She sat.
When Zac’s large truck pulled up at the curb twenty minutes later, Marly was feeling totally miserable. Although she was under cover, she was soaking wet and shivering. She still felt sick and her head was pounding, the music coming from the club behind her making it worse. All she wanted was to get home, get dry, and go to bed and sleep for hours.
Zac jumped out of the cab of the truck, his cowboy hat lowered so she couldn’t see his face. Standing unsteadily, she threw herself at him, so grateful to see him she nearly started sobbing again.
“Hush, love,” he said, running his hand over her hair before he picked her up in his arms, easily carrying her to his truck.