Trace

Chapter 53

 My body visibly tenses. 

   "What are you doing here," I demand coldly, with no question in my tone.

Gretchynn laughs and puts her hands on both of my chest. "Can't I come in?" 

  My eyes don't leave hers. "No."

 She rolls her eyes. "For the love of Christ, don't tell me that little whore came crawling back to you," she spits in disgust, looking around my body and into the room. 

   My stomach lurches around. "Now listen to me, you leave now with your bitch ass behind you. Don't talk to me ever again," I hiss, shoving her hands off of me and grabbing the door to slam in her face. 

  "Wait!" her voice calls when the door is nearly halfway closed. Gretchynn's foot bangs into the door to prevent it from shutting. 

   "What the fuck do you want?!"

She seems not at all affected by my demeanor. 

   "I was wondering if you still had your handcuffs and blindfold," she lies in a raised voice with her makeup-lined eyes scanning the room behind me, "you know how good you made me feel."

    "Lower your damn voice, she's not here," I snap.

A look of satisfaction yet displeasure crosses her features. 

  "Well then, I guess it's just you and me," she says lowly, licking her full lips. 

"I don't want you, Gretchynn. I thought we already went over this."

  Her eyes flutter to my gym shorts. I watch in slow motion as she places one of her hands over me and gives me a playful squeeze. Mortified, I jerk back. 

  "What the fuck?"

Gretchynn throws her head back with laughter. "Come on, Harry. Let me ride you," she almost gushes.

   I inhale sharply to control myself from not growing a noticeable bulge in my shorts.

"Leave. Now."

  Her red eyebrows furrow together and she crosses her arms over her chest. 

"You're really not gonna cave in, are you?" she sighs. 

     "Just get the hell out of here, Gretch," I say to her tiredly.

She loops a strand of her ginger hair around her index finger.

  "Can you drop me off at Jerry's, then? I'm meeting someone and I don't have a ride."

I lean against the doorframe, skeptical. 

  "Who the fuck is Jerry?" 

She releases another annoying laugh that makes me want to rip my ears off. 

  "The bar right down the street, you idiot."

I don't find her at all amusing. "And who are you meeting?" I ask with eyebrows raised, not entirely believing her tale. 

  She gives me a thoughtful look, "Elliot," she smirks, with extra emphasis on the El. 

It feels like I have been punched in the stomach and the victorious smile she wears shows she knows it.

  "Whatever, let's go," I bark, grabbing my coat from the ground.

********

  It turns out that the bar isn't "right down the street" but a good fucking half an hour away.