“C’mere,” he said, grabbing my arm and taking me and a very loose Diana out into the hall. As I left, Liam was finally in sight and he shot me a questioning look.
Help, I mouthed.
One curt nod and he began peeling women off him, twenty feet or so behind me. And then I lost visual as I walked through the front entrance to the apartment and found myself slammed against the far wall of the hallway by Diana, her hips grinding into my thighs, mouth suddenly hot and loose on mine. The crush of her body, then Nico’s behind hers trapping me, my arms out like I was readying for a crucifixion.
Where the fuck was Liam? Diana’s mouth wouldn’t give me any kind of break, teeth biting my lips hard, tongue lolling and sloppy, saliva everywhere. I wasn’t being kissed; I was being slimed.
“It’s a Diana sandwich,” Nico shouted.
Liam appeared in the doorway and clapped a hand over his mouth, then threw his hands in the air. What the fuck? he mouthed.
“Diana!” I said, trying to protest, putting my arms on her shoulders to push, but Nico was rubbing her ass with his groin, legs apart, dry humping her.
I kept my eyes opened as Diana roto-rootered me and flailed with my arms in some sort of movement that I hoped communicated that I needed to be rescued.
And then:
“Sam?”
I turned my head as best I could toward the sound of my name, twisting inches, only to find Amy’s horrified face a few feet away, the dim light of the hall making her look like an angel, an aura around her.
Diana sensed something and pulled back, finally giving me a chance to take a much-needed deep breath and I stared, slack-jawed at Amy.
And then she ran.
“No! Come back! Amy! It’s not what you think!”
“Widdle gurfriend’s feewings hurt?” Diana said, coming in for another kiss.
Shoving hard, instinct kicked in. Off. “Get. Off. Me,” I shouted. Nico lost his footing as a hundred plus pounds of his own girlfriend came flying fast at him. Whatever force I used was enough to push them both back into the apartment’s entrance, Liam hopping out of the way just in time.
“No more Diana sandwich,” she pouted, her and Nico a flesh pile on the floor.
The thump of Amy’s footsteps stopped abruptly as a door opened and snapped shut. Outside by now, she was gone.
I took two steps toward the main door, then realized how I was dressed.
“Go,” Liam urged. “Go get her now, Sam. You need to figure this shit out now. I got this.”
“You sure?” Nico and Diana were now dry humping on the floor beneath us, apparently having let go of the sandwich idea.
Piecing my lines of velcro together, I worked to look as decent as possible. Liam tossed me my hat.
“Wha—?”
“It’s cold outside. You’ll need that.”
Sprinting down the hallway, I slammed the front door open and looked left and right down the street, the dim lampposts posh and elegant, but it was no use.
She was gone.
What had I done?
Amy
It’s not what you think, the text read.
Oh, Sam, I thought, you have got to be fucking kidding me. Is there some textbook that guys are handed that tells them exactly what they’re supposed to say when they have decided to fuck you over? I ignored it.
Bzzzzz! The next text. Please Amy, please talk to me.
Yeah, right.
Bzzzzz! Whatever you think you saw, it wasn’t what you think.
Really? I thought. My eyes are making up stories, imagine that! Hmm...who knew?
Bzzzzz! This one was from Darla: Where the hell are you?
I quickly typed back: At home.
What happened? You disappeared, she wrote back.
And then, bzzzzz! It was Sam. Please, Amy. I’m coming to your apartment. Please. I need to talk to you.
Caught Sam with another woman, was all I could type back as the tears began to cover the glass screen of my phone. I hit ‘send’ then realized I hadn’t sent that text to Darla. I’d sent it to Sam.
Fuck. The phone rang, Sam’s number. I let it dump to voicemail. The phone rang again, Sam’s number. Voicemail again.
If he really was on his way over here, he wouldn’t be able to get into the building without buzzing, and if he buzzed over and over, what would I do? I looked around my apartment. It had been a safe haven, my little place just a couple weeks ago, and now, it was a prison. Better to walk the streets at night and be free than let Sam incarcerate me with a set of lies. Four and a half years ago he’d gone to radio silence when I’d tried everything I could to reach him.
Payback’s a bitch.
I couldn’t go home. Couldn’t leave. Couldn’t stay.
What do you do when you have no options?
When there is no good choice?
You run.
Grabbing my coat, I made sure I had my keys, phone, and some cash, and locked up, the cold night wind all-too-familiar. I’d just been outside an hour ago.
Bzzzz.
The off button called my name, so I shut the damn thing off and proceeded to walk wherever I needed to go to erase this fucking night.
Haunted. For the next hour I was haunted by two memories: the conversation about the party, and seeing Sam in a threesome kiss.
“What are you doing tonight?” I had asked him. “Darla invited me to a party. You wanna come?”
A shadow had crossed his face and he pulled his hands back, it was like being stung. The absence of his touch was stronger than its presence. With half-lidded eyes he had met mine, and then quickly looked away. “I’m working,” he had said.
Working. He and I had very different ideas of what working meant. Apparently, Sam though it meant having his throat tongue-fucked by some woman who was being groped by another dude at the same time. Don’t get me wrong; threesomes are great.