Since her driveway was full, he had to park in the street. Even at that distance and with the rain, he could still hear the noise from the house. There was loud music, cat-calls, and some whistles. Most telling of all were the screams of, "Come on, Houston, shake it baby!"
Rich braced himself before he opened the door and let himself in. He walked into the living room and burst out laughing.
Houston had taken cover in one corner of the living room. His brown hair sported several cowlicks, most of which looked as if they were made by somebody pulling on it. His hands were cuffed in front of him, but he still had his cell clutched in his fingers. Almost as if was his only lifeline.
He stood slightly, and Rich could see the guy's red shirt was torn and stretched at the collar, and the fly of his jeans were undone. The funniest thing of all was the fact that Houston only wore one battered tennis shoe. The other foot was clad only in a sock that was halfway off.
Haley spotted Rich and lifted up a cup in greeting. "Rich! Thank God you're here. We have a naughty boy who won't cooperate."
"Yeah, spank him, officer," another voice called.
Houston took a step toward Rich, only to pull back when one of the ladies grabbed his pants and tried to pull them down.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I am not a stripper," Houston shouted as he jumped back.
"Then why did you come to a bachelorette party with nothing but your cute ass and a set of handcuffs?" somebody yelled.
"Because Haley said she wanted me to give you guys a magic show." Houston used his cuffed hands to bat away a few of the more touchy gals.
Rich gave Haley a really? Look. "Tell me you did not trick him into coming here?"
She grinned and gave a shrug. "It was so easy to do, too. He's way too trusting."
"How did that become a character flaw?" Houston demanded.
"The second you found yourself cuffed and at the mercy of a house full of woman," Rich replied.