Chapter 29 – Bet The Odds

St. Louis, Missouri – Friday, October 11, 2014

“This is awkward!”

Justin looked at AJ, who was grinding her back against his front attempting to look like she was dancing with him, while looking as uncomfortable as possible.

“What is?” he asked.

“Dancing like this...with you,” she said loudly over the music. “I feel like every woman in this club between the age of twenty-five and forty is staring at me, imagining all the ways they can kill me to get to you!”

“Turn around!”

“What?” she yelled.

“Turn around!” Justin yelled back at her.

She turned her body toward him, gasping as he swiftly wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her in close to him.

“Tramp at two-o-clock,” he whispered in her ear.

Still stunned by him moving her body so close to his, she subtly moved her eyes to look to her right. As he said, there was Mila, coming back from the bar, carrying another round of drinks for the crowd of random men who had gathered to drool over her at the table.

“She could at least try to--”

“Not be a two-timing piece of trash?” Justin asked.

“I was going to say 'be a little more subtle', but that works too,” AJ said. “How many rounds of drinks is that now?”

“Who's still counting?” Justin asked.

AJ felt a hand lay on her arm as the music cut from the upbeat dance song to a slower R&B number.

“Mind if I cut in?” Lance asked.

Justin nodded in agreement, releasing AJ and handing her over to Lance as he walked off the dance floor toward where JC stood.

“That was the signal,” AJ said as Lance took her in his arms to dance along to the music. “So everything must be on track?”

“Addy and Chris are on their way,” he said. “He thinks Mila is sick and too drunk, and she needs a ride.”

“He buys that?”

“Addy is convincing,” he said.

“So how does this work again?” she asked. She was vaguely aware that Justin and Lance had put together a carefully crafted plan that would ensure Chris would catch Mila cheating, but she only knew her role in the plan.

“Look over my shoulder and tell me what you see,” Lance said.

AJ looked over Lance's shoulder as he asked, directly at Mila's table. One of her admirers had taken a particular interest in her and had stood from the booth, holding his hand out as she scooted out to join him.

“She's leaving with one of them,” she responded.

“He look familiar?”

She looked closer.

“It's Brett,” she responded. “One of the tech crew?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he mumbled. “He's a plant. His signal to make a move on Mila was when I cut in to dance with you.”

“And then?”

“And then Addy will call JC when they're two minutes away, supposedly to check they have the right address,” he said. “JC will text Brett, and Brett will make his move.”

“How can you be so sure she'll take the bait?”

“Brett's been wooing her all night and practically pouring the drinks down her throat,” he said. “She's so drunk right now, I'd be amazed if she even knows who Chris is when he walks in the door.”

“She barely notices him when she's sober,” AJ responded. “She doesn't exactly play girlfriend of the year.”

Lance chuckled, but remained silent. He danced with her half-heartedly, and she noticed his stare was elsewhere; she wondered whether he was thinking of his wife, or of poor Chris and the chaos that was sure to follow after tonight.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” she asked him, her voice lower.

“It has to work,” Lance responded, his gaze still far off. “This is the only option we have left.”

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“Are you sure this is the right turn?”

Chris gripped the steering wheel and clenched his teeth. He didn't want to lose his temper with Adeline, but she was starting to get on his nerves.

“I don't know, Ad, is it?” he asked, his tone biting.

“You don't have to get crabby with me, Kirkpatrick,” she responded, picking up on his frustration. “I'm just asking.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know if this is the right turn or not?” he asked. “It's not like I've ever lived in St. Louis before, or actually gone to this club.”

“That's why they invented cell phones,” Addy responded, pulling out her phone. “I'll call JC and check that we've got the right address. Then when we get there, we can buy you a few shots so you'll relax a little.”

She smiled a little when she heard him grunt. She hit the speed dial on her cell phone for JC's number, and put it up to her ear. Her gut lurched as it started to ring; she could easily pass it off to Chris as a kick or twirl from the baby in her belly, but it was nervousness. Setting him up like this didn't feel wrong because Mila was a cheater and everyone knew it, everyone except Chris. But if one thing went wrong and he found out that they had all lied to him to get him there, she was afraid that he would never speak to any of them again.

“What's up?” JC answered.

“Hey, C, we're a little lost,” she answered. “Can you tell me how to get there again?”

“Two minutes, right?”

“Right,” Adeline confirmed. “So take a left on Turner Street and then a right on 21st?”

“You better get here fast,” JC said. “Mila is all over this guy. It's disgusting.”

“Great,” Addy said. “Looks like we're on the right street then, thanks JC.”

She hung up the phone, feeling slightly guilty for deceiving Chris the way she was with phone call signals and secret codes.

“There's Turner Street, right there,” she said, pointing at the street sign.

Chris sighed as he flicked the turn signal and swerved into the turning lane. Adeline sighed heavily as she sat her phone back in her lap and slumped her shoulders, sending up a silent prayer that all of this ended the best possible way it could.

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“You know it's cold out here?” Brett asked as he crossed his arms across his chest, rubbing his hands feverishly down them. He had only worn a thin, tight t-shirt, and wasn't aware that the deal had included going outside with his 'charge' for smoke breaks.

Mila let the cigarette dangle from her mouth loosely as she lit the lighter and put the flame to the tip. She took a swift breath in and released the smoke slowly into the air.

“It's not that cold,” she slurred. She put the cigarette back in her mouth and muffled talking with it. “'Sides, a big, strong man like you should be able to stand a little cold.”

Brett turned his head away so he could roll his eyes. When Justin and Lance had begged him to be their mole, he knew it wouldn't be a pleasant situation. But after spending an entire night with Mila, he couldn't understand why Chris was as attracted to the woman as he seemed to be – and not only because of the fact that she was now standing in front of him with a cigarette dangling distastefully out of her mouth. She could curse like a sailor, down drinks at a nauseating pace, and had spent the entire night flirting shamelessly with any man that said more than two words to her – never once worrying that Chris's best friends were watching her behavior the entire time.

“Don't you have a boyfriend?” he asked her.

“A boyfriend?” Mila looked dumbly at him for a moment before half-heartedly nodding. “Yeah, I guess he's my boyfriend. Not really my type. A little too short and not really that good looking. I'm just with him because he's friends with Justin,” she explained, cozying up to Brett once more after she finished her cigarette. “I prefer younger men,” she smiled at him coyly, her words still slurred.

Brett let Mila kiss him once more, praying that the whole charade would be over soon.

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Chris looked over at Adeline when they pulled into the parking lot of the club, winding around to where they were parked close to the front.

“I'm going to go find Mila and make sure she's okay.”

Adeline spotted Mila kissing Brett. “Umm, Chris,” she murmured, not taking her eyes off the woman practically shoving her tongue down the man's throat.

Chris glance to where Addy was looking and swallowed hard. He watched the display for a moment before unbuckling his seat belt, not saying a word as he got out of the car.

He ignored Adeline as she said his name and struggled to unbuckle her seat belt, trying to hurry and stop him. His emotions were a mess, but mostly what came to the surface was anger. Chris had protected Mila from all of his friends, sticking up for her when they're tried to tell him she was no good; that she was a pain and he'd turned a blind eye to it. He cleared his throat and watched Mila look at him and smile, staggering a bit as she held on to Brett.

“Hey Chris.” Mila drug the greeting out a little, patting the other man on the shoulder. “I was just saying hi to Benji--”

“His name's Brett,” Chris interrupted her, taking a step backward when she stepped toward him. “And it looked like you had your tongue shoved halfway down his throat. What the fuck, Mila?”

Mila looked at Chris for a moment and her eyes narrowed. “You know, I never really was interested in you. I felt sorry for you, actually – pining away for some girl who obviously was smart enough to leave you...” Her words were slurred but her intent was clear. “Because who wants to date the oldest guy in a boy band when there are so many others to choose from? Face it Chris, even now you're still the least known member. No one will ever want you.”

Chris thought some semblance of his heart had been repaired, that he was on the mend at least a little. However, he realized it had been a cruel joke as the woman he thought had cared for him was now ripping him to shreds.

“I had a woman who loved me,” he said. “Who wanted me.”

“Like I said, she left,” Mila told him. “Men like you always get left. Nice guys finish last, Chris. Haven't you figured that out yet?”

Chris stared hard at the woman in front of him. He'd had girlfriends and break-ups, been heartbroken, but nothing like he'd felt in the past eight months. It had been the most emotionally draining time in his life and he'd had to keep it together.

But at this moment, he snapped.

“What the hell do you know about me, you fucking bitch?” he yelled, backing her up against the bricks of the club. “All you are is a sorry excuse for a female who is just looking for the next dick to jump and a free ride! I've seen enough of those in my day, believe me.”

“Fuck you, you fell for it,” Mila told him, straightening her shoulders. “You weren't anything special.”

By this time, Lance and Joey had come outside to stand beside Addy, who was holding on to her husband in tears as she listened to Mila tear Chris down.

“If I'm not anything special then it won't be any big loss to you to tell you to fuck off. You're gone. Now.”

Mila's mouth was left hanging open for a moment. “You...you can't leave me here in St. Louis! I have no way to get home. You fucking bastard!”

When Chris kept walking toward the door, she took off one of her shoes and lobbed it at his head, missing.

“I hope that tramp is laying somewhere with the fuck beat out of her!”

Chris stopped and turned, looking at Mila.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice raspy with emotion.

She wouldn't win the war, but she could win the battle. Mila may not have been endearing to everyone on the bus, but she'd paid enough attention to know what had happened to Chris's ex-girlfriend. And since he was unceremoniously tossing her out, she would get in the last dig.

“If she was so dumb to go back to the guy who beat her, she deserves whatever she gets.”

Chris didn't make it to get his hands on Mila, with Joey holding him back as he fought against him.

“Let me go, Joe,” he growled, struggling against the bigger man. “I'll gladly go sit in jail for a night.”

“No one needs to go sit in jail. She's not worth it, man,” Joey told him, feeling Chris relax after a few moments of struggling. After everything they'd all went through, he almost wanted to let him go after her. However, Joey didn't want the consequences of that action.

“You're fucking gone, you fucking cunt ass bitch!” Chris yelled at Mila, who was retrieving her shoe, looking at him and flipping him off.

“Come on, Chris, let's go get a drink – or five,” Joey said as he pushed Chris toward the door of the club. “You need it.”

Lance tracked Chris and Joey going into the club and Mila getting into a can. He looked down at Adeline, who had tear tracks running down her cheeks.

“If he ever finds out we planned that whole thing,” she said, wiping away tears, “he won't speak to any of us.”

His head snapped up a few seconds later when Brett went sailing out the front door of the club, with Chris right behind him.

“Shit...” he muttered as he let go of Addy to help Justin pull Chris off of Brett. Justin was drunk enough that he couldn't get a good grip on Chris, and the older man was out for blood.

“Get the fuck off me, Timberlake,” Chris said loudly, rearing back his fist to hit Brett once more until Lance side tackled him. The two men ended up halfway out in the parking lot with Lance on top of Chris.

“I wasn't done with him,” Chris huffed, watching Justin help Brett up.

“If you want to beat up all the guys Mila made out with...there's a long line,” Lance said, grunting as he got up and reached down to help Chris up. He frowned when Chris laid there, not missing the tear tracks down his friend's face.

“Come on, let's go back to the hotel,” he tried again.

“Since I'm here, I might as well go drink more,” Chris said, ignoring Lance's hand and getting up slowly on his own. “I'm too old for this shit,” he said quietly as he walked off toward the door.

A Kelly Clarkson song met Lance and Addy as they made their way back into the club. The group didn't say much, except for Justin who was watching Chris with the line of shots he had lined up on the table.

“You sure you want all that alcohol, Kirkpatrick?” he asked.

“What are you, my fucking mother?” Chris snarked, throwing a shot back. “If anyone's looking for a last minute birthday gift for me, don't bother. Nothing has gone right in eight months so why should it start now?” He downed another shot. “This if fucking worse than when you told us you weren't coming back to record another album. We were left to figure out what the fuck we were doing while you went on to be Mister Super-Fucking-Star Justin Timberlake.”

Justin took the jab, watching Chris pick up another shot. “You want another round?” he asked Chris, waving at the waitress who nodded.