It had been a long slow night at the liquor store where I worked. I sat behind the counter reading a huge H.P. Lovecraft compilation of works, my booted feet in a chair across from the one I was sitting in and the book propped against my raised knees. I heard the bell tinkle, letting me know I had a customer. I looked up from the book and saw a tall, slim man walk in. His shoulders were slumped and he had a probably four days worth of growth beard. "Welcome to City Sliquors. Let me know if you need any help.", I said in his general direction. He grunted and I shrugged at his response. Picking up my book I sat back again and began to read.
After a while the guy made it to the front of the store with his bottles for purchase. Yes I said bottles! He had two bottles of Jim Beam, two bottles of Maker's Mark and two bottles of The Famous Grouse. The bottles clinked as he placed them onto the counter by the register. I stood from my perch and said, "Will that be all for you?" Who was I to judge how much liquor he was buying? Nodding to me he pushed one bottle toward me. I began scanning the bottles and sneaking quick looks up at the man that was quite a bit taller than me. I felt like a child almost as I stood across the counter from him. He looked haggard and like he maybe hadn't showered that day but there was something about him.
"Ok that will be "145.82. Cash or credit?", I wait as he reaches into the back pocket of his dark jeans and pulls out his wallet. He slides a card out and hands it to me. I finally look him right in the eyes as he hands off the card. His eyes are hazel and very beautiful but very tortured and sad, reminding me of a scolded Beagle. My breath catches in my throat as I'm taken back by how sad and alone he looks. Regaining my composure, I take the card from him and look down at the name, Jerry Kaplan. I slid it through the card reader and waited for his receipt. He signed it in a bit of a shaky script and was on his way out the door.
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Sam felt like he needed to get out of that liquor store as quickly as he could. The woman behind the counter drew him in in a way he wasn't ready to deal with right now. He had noticed the books she was reading as well as the boots that were obviously military issued. He thought he could just run down here and replace the liquor he had consumed in the past day and a half since Dean's body had just disappeared. He told his body that he didn't have time for women, he had to figure out what had happened to his brother.
Climbing into the blue '69 Plymouth Roadrunner he planned to drive back to the bunker and immerse himself in the tons of books that were there in the library. Sitting behind the wheel though, his pulse began to race and he felt almost like a schoolboy with a crush. He scooted down in his seat, placing the bag of liquor in the floor board of the passenger's side and watched the storefront of City Sliqors to see if he could see the petite woman inside. He could see her sitting behind the counter reading her book and chewing on her bottom lip. He really wished she would stop biting her lip because it caused him to have feelings that he didn't want to have.
Sam reached into the bag and pulled out one of the bottles of Maker's Mark and broke the seal on the wax top. He unscrewed the top and took a long swig straight from the bottle. He used to hardly ever drink bourbon but since he had lost Dean it had become more a staple in his consumption than even food. Knowing he was being stalkery but not really caring he continued to site there across the street and watch the girl. Hell he should have asked her her name but it was all still too fresh.
Before he knew it, the sun had gone completely down and the street lights had come on. There hadn't been much activity across the street at City Sliquors but now he saw the woman walk to the front door and lock the lock. She shut out the light and walked into the back, carrying her book with her. He guessed she was counting the money from today in a back office but soon saw her exit a side door.
Just as she was walking up to her car a guy came from the shadows and said something to her. She stopped, keys in hand and looked at him. There was a look of something between fear and contempt on her face. She said a few things back to the guy that seemed from Sam's vantage point to be something almost hateful. The guy stomped closer to her with his the hand raised. Sam watched in horror as guy from the shadows brought that hand down hard across the girl's face. She brought up her hand and covered the red place where his hand had slapped her and shot daggers in the guy's direction.
Sam bound from the car and was across the street in seconds. He didn't even have to think about it, he just reacted. "Hey!", he bellowed at the guy and was rewarded with the guy looking in his direction. The girl had been knocked to the ground. Sam walked to her, holding the guy in a piercing gaze. "Are you alright honey?", Sam said as he placed one large hand beneath the girl's right arm and pulled her gently to her feet. She nodded at him but didn't say a word. "Get your damn hands off of Jade! She happens to belong to me!", the guy had stepped closer to Sam by this time. Sam pushed Jade gently behind him and squared his shoulders, "If she was really yours, you wouldn't be putting your hands on her like that.", Sam said vehemently.
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I watched as the tall man from earlier stood his ground against Chuck. Most people were scared of Chuck because he had served time in the Marines. He was shorter than the man standing between us. And his light blonde military cropped hair was a vast contrast to the shoulder length, brown locks of my protector as well. When he spoke, the tall man's voice wasn't overly deep but it was smooth and you knew he meant business. He stood, feet apart, shoulders squared and fists clenched at his sides.
The two men were having words with each other over me. Finally in a rage, Chuck pointed over the man's shoulder at me and stated, "I'll take care of your whoring ass when you come home! You better not be out too much later either!" With that he turned and stalked over to his truck and roared off. The tall man turned to me, "Are you alright?", he questioned and looked down at my face through his long locks. I still held my hand to the place where Chuck had slapped me and nodded up at him, "Yeah I think I'll be alright. I've just got to figure out where to go for the night. I can't go home to him. God only knows what he's pissed about now."
I saw a look of compassion flash across the man's face. He looked as if he wanted to say something and then blew out a breath. Turning almost away from me, running his hand through his shaggy hair and then turning back to me he said, "Listen my name is Sam. I don't live too far from here and I've got plenty of room if you want to crash there. You would have your own room and there's a kitchen and showers." I hesitated for a few seconds but as I watched this man I knew that for some reason I could trust him. I saw it in his eyes. "Ok I'll follow you. But what if Chuck decides to follow us as well?", I questioned. "Don't worry about that. My place is plenty secure too. Chuck won't ever get in unless I want him to and I don't want him to."
I got into my car and followed Sam just outside town to what looked like sort of fortress with a hobbit hole door. We drove around a bit of a hill and on the other side an area opened up revealing a tunnel of sorts big enough for a large truck to drive through. I followed Sam inside and said a prayer that I was doing the right thing and not following this man to some crazy person's lair. A feeling of peace came over me the longer I followed him though and soon we were in a huge garage full of old cars and motorcycles. Sam parked and when he got out he motioned for me to park in an empty slot.