I apologize in advance. This story has been an earworm for the last month, and I need to purge it, so although it's disjointed, I'm pushing it off on you. Sorry.
Monica pulled Billy close enough to whisper in his ear, "You can't see it, but Larry says Marcy is feeling him up on the dance floor and rubbing her ass and tits all over him!"
"Larry", whose real name was Buckie, was holding Marcy up against him to prevent her from falling, now moved his right hand down to squeeze her ass. Marcy squirmed against Buckie, barely conscious but trying to move away from the grabbing hand.
What Billy saw was the girl he'd brought dry humping some random on the dance floor. He was hurt. He liked the girl, but this was only their third date. He felt lucky to find out what she was now, instead of later.
"Fuck her!", he said, pushing Monica away. "I'm out of here." He downed his drink at the table, reached for his coat and stomped out.
Monica smiled, and after receiving a text from their third partner confirming that Billy had left the parking lot, signaled Buckie the all-clear. At the table, she purposely tipped over Marcy's glass, with the remnants of the drugs Monica had added to Marcy's drink, over the table. Buckie brought the stumbling girl towards the exit as his partner retrieved their coats and purses before following them out.
It was several days later that Billy found out that Marcy had not been seen again.
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The club was packed, and a trouple, or a couple with a friend, were looking at the four empty seats at our table. After a brief discussion, the woman approached Juliette and ask if the four chairs were empty, and would we mind sharing the table.
Without consulting me, Juliette invited the group to join us at the table. "I'm Juliette, and this is my boyfriend, Matt."
"Well, honey, aren't you just the cutest thing," the woman smiled as she sat down. I had to agree with her; Juliette was the cutest thing, not just in the club, but in the county. At least, I thought so.
"I'm Betty, and this is my boyfriend, Larry and our friend Marcus." As they sat down, Betty seemed to arrange to have Marcus sit next to Juliette. Meanwhile, Larry crowded in next to me, basically trapping me by the wall. Marcus was big and black, and Larry was white, but even larger than Marcus.
Juliette's face lit up with a bright smile as she shook everyone's hand. I thought Marcus held on to her hand a little longer than he should have. My hackles were already raised by the openly lecherous appraisal I could see him making as he ogled my girl. The bastard even licked his lips as he smiled.
I was quiet, silently burning as Juliette played the gadfly, openly flirting and simpering at the attention both Marcus and Larry were giving her. Betty did her best to distract me and draw me out, but I was having none of it. I hadn't invited them to sit down, and as far as I could see, they were predators. I gave Betty monosyllabic answers while I listened as Juliette detailed her entire life to the two men. Every attempt to derail her recital by me was ignored by my girl and smirked at by the two men.
Marcus would laugh at almost everything Juliette said, and use it as an excuse to touch her arm or shoulder. The touches became more frequent and lasted longer when Juliette failed to protest. Touches became caresses, and then just as I was about to object, Marcus held out his hand and asked Juliette to dance.
Without even a glance at me, Juliette hopped up and took Marcus's hand, turning towards the dance floor.
"NO!" I barked. Everyone stopped, even the waiters and people nearby. "No," I repeated, a little quieter. "If you want to dance, I'll dance with you."
Larry and Betty both started to object. "It's just a dance, man." Said Betty. "What's your problem," drawled Larry, with a sneering smile.
"Is it because I'm Black, man?" asked Marcus. "You some kind of racist?"
"No," I tried to assure him. "Juliette's here with me, tonight. It's our night, and my dance." I stood up in order to go to the dance floor, but Buckie stayed seated to block me in.
"What's your problem, Matt?" Juliette had that look I knew so well. I could have recited her next line. "You don't own me. I can dance with whomever I like." She was going to have one of her snits, just to put me in my place. If I stayed, the night would be very unpleasant.
Unbidden, anger flared but I fought it down. I remained calm. "You're right. I don't own you. You can dance with whoever you like, but don't expect me to be here when you're done."
Juliette sneered at me. "Drama much? I'll talk to you later. C'mon, Marcus." She took his hand and led him off to the dance floor.
I watched her walk away, surprised at how easily she could do that. Still standing there, blocked in by Larry. Betty and Larry were both looking at me with that smirking smile bastards seem to be born with. I thought I'd done enough.
"Fine." I said calmly. Larry hadn't moved so I grabbed the table and shoved it into the aisle, spilling the drinks on its top. The two assholes jumped up to avoid the liquid flowing off the table, and I stepped between the wall and the table.
I stopped and threw Juliette's purse onto the table. "You can give this to the bitch when she finishes dancing. Tell her we're done. Tell her I'll have her stuff at her mom's house in the morning. Tell her not to bother coming home." Betty gasped as I turned and left.
I was tempted to stay in the parking lot to see if she came out but decided just to head home. They probably had someone watching me. I started the engine and drove home.
I felt like an ass leaving her like that. Every atom in my being yelled at me to return, but she set this in motion. She set the scenario; she left me with no alternative but to leave.
Still, my stomach was so twisted with worry, I could hardly breathe.
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