He narrowed his eyes, in what I suspected he meant to be a come-hither look. I just wanted to run. “I knew you’d taste good.” He gave the back of my hand another lick. “You’re turn.”

I would have been nervous trying shots anyway, but doing this with Daniel Crocker released a slow trickle of terror that pooled and rose, threatening to swallow all reason. Daniel still had my hand and stuck his in front of my face. I closed my eyes and licked it.

“Now salt,” he insisted with a growl.

I shook the salt shaker on the back of his hand and licked. He actually moaned.

“Now the shot.” He held the glass up to my mouth and pushed my head back, dumping it in. Unprepared, I gagged. Daniel held a lime wedge up to my mouth. “Suck on it, baby.”

It took everything in me not to vomit there at the table. By the time I got through the remaining two shots, the room was definitely spinning. Between not being used to the alcohol, my vertigo, and fear, I knew I would lose my stomach contents soon. I grabbed my purse and stood, nearly falling over with the sudden movement.

“I’ve gotta throw up.” Apparently tequila worked like beer on my internal censor.

Daniel burst out laughing. “The restroom’s back that way.” He waved toward the hall. “Don’t keep me waiting, baby.” I wobbled in that direction as I heard Daniel ordering more shots. I was going to die of alcohol poisoning.

I made it down the hall, to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before I threw up. I didn’t know how I was going to go out there and drink more. I leaned over the sink and rinsed my mouth out with water. When I raised up, I saw Joe’s reflection in the mirror behind me. Before I could scream, Joe covered my mouth with his hand.

“Shhh.”

I tried to ask him a question but his hand muffled my words. He removed his hand. “What are you doin’ here?” I whispered loudly.

“Shh,” he said, “You’re a funny drunk at home, but right now I need you to focus.”

“You said to use my head, and I’m tryin’, but it ain’t so easy. He wants me to go back out there and do it again.”

“Do what again?”

“Tequila shots.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“A glass of wine and three shots.”

“Shit, why are you drinkin’ so much?”

“He’s makin’ me do it.” I felt myself weaving and bobbing around.

Joe grabbed his head in his hands, like his head hurt and he was trying to squeeze the pain out. “Okay,” he finally said.

I concentrated on watching him, so his words startled me and I jumped. ”Okay, go back?” I started for the door, feeling even fuzzier than when I came in. I turned to Joe and waved a finger at him. “Oh yeah, he ain’t followin’ the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The rules of drinkin’.”

“Yeah, Crocker isn’t one to follow rules. I’m tryin’ to figure out how to get you out of here.”

“Can I go home now?”

“No, not yet. I hate to do this to you, but I need you to go back out there. You’ve been here too long. He’s gonna come lookin’ for you and we need more of a head start. Go back out, do one or two more shots and say you have to throw up again, and I’ll be waitin’ for you here. But leave your purse at the table and don't slip up and use my name. It's a secret, okay?”

I nodded.

“Okay, do what I say and I’m gonna get you out of this.” Then he shoved me out the door. I grabbed hold of the wall to hold myself up.

Daniel was excited to see me appear and didn’t waste any time getting to the shots.

We did the first round, with some sloppy kissing after. I wondered if anyone had told him that his technique needed some work. I considered telling him he should take some lessons from Joe, but remembered I wasn’t supposed to say Joe’s name.

As I started licking the salt off his hand, I felt a vision coming. I saw Joe, in what looked like a mechanic’s garage, carrying a package. I heard Daniel’s voice say, “Where is she, McAllister?”

When it finished and I was about to say “You’re looking for me,” Daniel stuck a wedge of lime in my mouth. I had no problem excusing myself from the table this time, and I honestly forgot my purse, barely making it to the toilet. Joe waited for me, hiding in a stall.

“How many did you have this time?” He asked as I rinsed out my mouth again.

“Two.”

“We’re gonna have to hurry, we don’t have much time.” He walked over to a window and opened it.

“I get to climb out a window again?” I asked in a whisper. “That’d the second time in…” I tried to think how long ago it was. “Only a few days.”

Joe looked outside the window and then climbed out, one leg at a time. He made it look so easy.

“When did you climb out a window?” He pulled me closer and lifted one of my legs through.

“The night after you hid the gun in my shed.”

He pushed my head down and out and pulled the other leg through. We stood outside next to a motorcycle and I remembered. Joe hid the gun in my shed. He strapped a helmet to my head.

“How can I trust you?” I asked, searching his face for something to convince me.

He put on the other helmet. “Rose, you either trust me or Crocker, which one do you pick?”