Harassenger: Backseat Admirer ✔️

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

I was on my second date of the week, courtesy of Della Clark Andrews. The date was with her close friend, Colbert, who I've met twice before, once at the wedding and another time at Holt's housewarming party.

Colbert was less understanding that I had a 'bodyguard' than Adam had been, asking questions about why, a girl who worked at a gym, would need a bodyguard. I knew it wasn't good to lie on a first date, but I felt obligated to do so. I told him my grandfather had an inheritance that was being sought after, and being caught in the middle, I needed a bodyguard. The story was believable enough, and since Della didn't tell him any better, he bought it.

Colbert was my age, to my relief, and was as blonde as Holt was when he lets his hair grow out. But unlike Holt's crooked bottom teeth, Colberts were near perfect. He was nice enough, showing up on time for the date and kissing me briefly on the cheek like a gentleman. It all seemed too good to be true, and as the date went on, my gut feeling was right.

He sent me on the outskirts of Destin, sending my poor Jeep onto a country road with loose gravel and not much to see. Mick mumbled to himself in the backseat, balancing the idea on whether he should go along with it or open the door for Colbert to fly out of.

We ended up at a sketchy restaurant. The owners butchered the fish in front of us behind the front counter, while in another area, the chefs cooked our designed meal. The wallpaper was torn and the molding of the floors cracked. There were signs, neon clocks, and various pictures on the wall trying, but not well, to hide dents in the wall. One of the signs read, 'All I want do to is be bayou', with a group of creepy men holding up a record breaking alligator. Odd was an understatement for this place.

The date went on with not much discussion, not that it was Colbert's fault. The workers continued to stare at us while they cooked, acting as if we were going to steal something from the restaurant. Yes, because I had full intentions on pocketing some napkins.

In the middle of dinner, Colbert excused himself to the bathroom. Mick was seated behind me alone at a table, keeping a close eye on me. I couldn't say I minded.

When Colbert got back, things took a turn for the worse. He began to fart...yes, fart...constantly in front of me as if it was the funniest thing in the world. At first, I thought he may have gotten sick from the fish so I offered to drive him home. I honestly felt sorry for him and thought he was laughing to subside his embarrassment. He declined my offer, saying his flatulence had been long overdue, and so had his humor, apparently. I figured his holier-than-thou, gentlemanly behavior was all an act. The room began to wither away with the smell of him, and I couldn't get out of there fast enough. He offered to start a fart war with the owner, and I almost died.

I was too happy to bring him home.

"Could you stop down this road for just a second? There's something I need to do." Colbert said.

"Nah, let's get you home." Mick said, tapping vigorously on the window seal of his door.

"Please, one stop. I'd hate for the date to be over; I want to show you something." As much as I didn't want to stop, I'd like to have something to bring to Della, other than my ditching another man.

"Only for a minute." I pulled onto the road he directed me to, stopping not far from an old rice mill with bashed in windows and overgrown grass.

"It's here."

With much internal debate, I followed Colbert out of the truck, Mick trailing behind.

Colbert shined the light on his phone to lead the way, halting in front of the side of the mill. At first, I thought I was going to open my eyes to a dead body, but instead, it was a mural. It was a mural of a man that looked similar to Colbert, actually. The calligraphy at the bottom of the image was Colbert's name.

"You drew this?" I asked, staring at the technicolor masterpiece in front of me.

"Yeah, do you like it?"

"It's...interesting, but isn't it illegal?"

"No one comes here; it's fine; I was thinking you'd like it. I actually got a tatoo of one of my paintings on my chest. You seemed like a chill girl and one who was up for anything and I thought maybe I could paint you on the wall next to mine." Why? So he could get a tattoo of me, also? No thanks. Man, this guy had no cares in life, but I think I prefer the farting Colbert over then illegally painting Colbert. I should have known when he bought me to a fishy, (pun intended) restaurant things were going to take a bad turn. 

"I think the offer is sweet, but I don't know." If painting me required a second date, I'm out.

"What's going on here?" All three of us jolted in our positions, turning to see a man, hair as long as Rapunzel's and a beard as thick as his balled fists. He was dressed in all black, and with minimal lighting, it was hard to see him.

"Nothing." I gulped.

"It sure doesn't look like nothing. You're on my side of town, punks, and painting over my artwork will get you into trouble. I'm the only one allowed to paint here."

"It's okay; we can leave."

"No, we can't. There is no designated area, man. Find another spot." Apparently Colbert had no idea how big this guy was.

"What did you just say?" The man pushed Colbert into the wall, his hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt.

"Nothing, sir. Nevermind."

Mick, who had been quiet for most of the night, didn't think twice to wrap his arm around the neck of the hefty man, putting him into a headlock, and squeezing his hands together. The man, who was an inch taller than Mick, squirmed in his stance, his feet sliding on the ground, but soon falling to the floor, knocked out.

"Is he alive?" I gasped, kicking the man to see if he would move. I thought about rubbing his sternum, but decided it best if he didn't wake up.

"Yes, he's...asleep...for now. Let's get going before he wakes up. And you, Colbert, better find another ride home." Mick grabbed into my hand, urging me to jog to the Jeep with him.

"Wow, you were really amazing out there, Mick."

"Of course. I'm the best damn bodyguard there is." And for once, I agreed.