RUNNING FROM MY HUSBAND

Tangled Hearts.

"So, this is where you work?" the man said. "Never would've expected it. I never got your name, though."

"Neither did I," I countered, my tone defensive.

He chuckled. "No reason to be defensive. I just wanted to know your name."

"I don't tell my name. If that's all, I'll leave now." I turned to go but paused when I heard a glass hit the table.

"I'll get another one of those," the man said. I turned back to see a smirk on his face.

Two can play that game, I thought. I picked up the empty glass and placed it on my tray. "Right away, sir," I said, walking out of the booth. I heard them laughing as I left—drunk bastards.

Back at the bar, I ordered another drink for him. Cate joined me a few seconds later.

"Hey, Cate, which section are you working?" I asked, hoping it wasn't VIP.

"I'm down here with these lowlifes who don't tip well but love to grope," she said, rolling her eyes.

"How about we switch sections?" I suggested with a smirk.

"Why? Which section are you working on?"

"VIP."

"Hell yeah, girl. I'm not about to refuse that idea," she said, her bored expression brightening.

We traded orders and booth numbers, then got back to work. It was a typical night—dealing with drunk people and trying to enforce boundaries they never respected. Sometimes I wondered why I even dated Oscar. It was like I spent all night dealing with perverts only to come home to my one.

The rest of the shift went as smoothly as bar work could. Cate's shift ended an hour before mine, giving me more time to myself. When I got to the employees' lounge—though it was far from an actual lounge—I slipped into my dress and jacket and headed out. It was almost 2 a.m. and the street was silent. All I could hear were the clicks of my heels on the pavement.

I really needed to get my car back. Walking these streets alone wasn't safe.

Suddenly, headlights blinded me. I shielded my eyes with one hand, trying to see who the jerk was. The lights stayed trained on me as I walked. I was ready to give this person a piece of my mind, but as I got closer, the car drove off.

I sighed. Some people just liked being annoying.

"Hey, stranger," a man said as I turned a corner. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was the guy from the bar. "Sorry about the headlights. I just wanted to be sure it was really you."

"No, it's not okay," I thought. "You know, just because you helped me ditch that date doesn't mean you need to pop up everywhere I am," I said, walking past him. Of course, he followed.

"I wouldn't be following you if you told me your name," he said, making me stop so suddenly he nearly bumped into me.

"You followed me just because I didn't tell you my name?" I asked, surprised.

He smirked. "What can I say? I'm a determined guy."

"Love," I said, then kept walking.

"Love? What's that supposed to be?" he asked, easily keeping pace with me.

"You wanted my name. I just told you. Now leave me alone," I said, speeding up. "And stop following me."

He grabbed my hand, making me stop again. "Your name is Love? Really?" he asked, clearly confused. I couldn't blame him. I always got that reaction.

I nodded.

"Well, I like it," he said with a smile. His smile was so addictive I found myself smiling too.

"So, I'd like to ask you out on a date," he said. It was more a statement than a question.

I chuckled. "Sure. Why not?"

"Let me have your phone so I can put in my number," he said, holding out his hand.

I hesitated. Was I really okay with this? Then again, what's the worst that could happen? I handed him my phone.

"Since I don't want you to feel rushed, I won't take your number. The decision's in your hands—whether or not you'll want to go out with me," he said, smirking as he handed my phone back.

Quin McDaniel, it read. When I looked up, he was already walking away. I stood there watching him go, unable to wipe the smile off my face.

He's quite interesting, I thought.

I turned around—and bumped into Oscar.

"You are a w***e indeed," he spat. "Letting other men have you. Maybe I can have you too—you were mine, after all." He stepped closer, grabbing my arm.

"Ouch!" I yelled. "Let go! You're hurting me!" I struggled, trying to break free.

"Why should I? So you can go spread your legs for that bastard?" he sneered, his voice full of rage. He must've been high again—probably on cocaine. That's exactly why I kicked him out of my house.

Before I could do anything, someone else grabbed Oscar's hand.

"I believe you're hurting the lady," Quin said.

"This doesn't concern you, so move along, pal," Oscar said without even looking at him.

Quin chuckled, then suddenly Oscar's hand was no longer on me—and he was nearly lifted off the ground.

"I'm sorry, man!" Oscar said, raising his hands in surrender.

"I believe you owe her an apology," Quin said.

I stood there gawking. I wasn't into the damsel-in-distress thing, but watching him like that—Quin could play hero for me anytime.

"I'm sorry, Love," Oscar muttered, looking at me. "Can you put me down now, please?"

Quin looked at me and I gave a subtle nod.

"I don't see why not. You did apologize, after all," he said, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

Oscar scrambled away like a kicked dog.

"Maybe I should take you home. This isn't exactly a safe neighborhood," Quin offered.

"I don't see why not. You did just save me from my crazed ex," I replied as we walked.

"Why'd you date a guy like that?" he asked.

"He wasn't always like that. Once upon a time, he was amazing. Can't really say that about him now," I said, chuckling.

"Mmm hmm," was all he said.

My apartment wasn't far, so we got there in a few minutes.

"So, this is me," I said, stopping outside the building.

He looked up at it. "You should really consider moving. Better neighborhood, better apartments. I could help if you'd like."

"No, you don't have to help me," I said quickly. "I'm planning to move out soon anyway."

"You should. Well, now that you're home safe, I should head back. Think about my offer—the date," he said. "Have a lovely night."

"You too," I said, watching him walk away before I entered the building.

Inside, I tossed my bag on the sofa and headed to the bathroom to draw a warm bath in my cramped one-bedroom apartment. It hadn't always looked this good. When I first found it, it was filthy and smelled awful. I should've taken that as a sign to walk away, but I was determined to have my own space.

I bought cleaning supplies, did some minor renovations, and transformed it. Even the landlord was shocked—but too stingy to offer a rent reduction. Still, I didn't complain.

I poured myself a glass of cheap red wine, tied my hair into a messy bun, and sank into the warm water. I relaxed, sipping my wine and holding a book I couldn't focus on. My mind kept drifting to Quin McDaniel—how effortlessly macho he had been, helping me when he didn't have to.

I reached for my phone and stared at his number.

"Maybe I should text him. Just to say goodnight," I muttered to no one.

"Or would that seem too eager?" I asked myself. "But he did say to text him if I wanted to go out. So maybe a simple 'hi' and 'goodnight' isn't too bad."

"But he probably isn't even home yet... He just left."

I sighed and sank deeper into the tub.

What am I doing? Talking to myself like a crazy person.

I surfaced with a gasp. "I'll ask Casey tomorrow. She'll know what to do."

That's after I beat her up for setting me up with that guy, I thought with a scowl.