“What?” I shout at him again.
“You’re supposed to be in Wyoming. Why are you here?”
I’m seeing red as he just stares back at me, unfazed.
I yell out as I swing on him, but get my rage in check in the last possible second, shifting and slamming my force into the side of the van, the metal giving slightly from it.
Letting go of him, I turn around, breathing fast as I glance around.
“Brotha, put your bike in the back and let’s go. You told her to leave, now you have to fucking deal with that shit.”
I glance back at him, glaring.
“Yeah, I get it. Take it out on me.”
He knows that I’m only letting him talk like this to me because we’re fucking family.
But I listen to him and he helps me put the bike into the back, securing it into place and then moving into the front.
I’m staring out the window just as Tatum was doing when they pulled up.
“She was asking for your number to let you know she gets back alright.”
“That’s not why she wanted it.” I mumble out, making him nod.
“I gathered that much.”
“What else did you say?” I turn, looking at him.
“Told her I thought you were a fucking idiot, but for her to never tell you, I said that.”
It actually makes me laugh out loud.
“I stand by that, though.” He glances back over at me, still not showing any sort of expression. And I don’t vocally agree with him, even if the little voice in my head is. “You ever gonna let yourself be happy?” He asks me as he comes to a stop again, looking over. He stares for a while before he shakes his head. “You don’t have to answer, but you should definitely think it over.”
“I am happy.” I seethe out, lying through my fucking teeth.
“Sure you are.” He nods his head again.
—1 year later—
It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to pull into the parking lot of the bar, but I did anyway. Today was an exceptionally bad day at work so I need to unsee the things that happened, which means I need to befriend a glass of whisky.
Because all in all, I’m still a whiskey girl.
The bar is outside of the city, and halfway between my house and the site I was working at today. I fall onto the barstool and then lean my head into my hands until the bartender comes over. I smile as I start, “whiskey double.” It’s only a couple of moments before the small drink is sitting in front of me.
A man talking off to the side in a condescending tone, and I don’t even need to watch the conversation for it to piss me off. Flashes of Leon coming back.
When the red hair catches my attention. I’m up, moving across the room before I realize it, but I am moving with my drink in hand. I down the last bit of it and place on the bar.
I walk towards the bathroom when she falls over and knocks her purse onto the floor and her phone slides across the floor.
She’s too fucked up to even notice that her purse has fallen.
Crouching down, I pick it up before turning around and starting out the door. Stopping first and whispering to the bartender. “Don’t let them leave.” He nods.
The sun is setting when I step outside, lifting her phone until it shows the lock screen.
