Page 98 of His Wicked Revenge

I look over at him, a sly grin sitting on his face. “You did not just say that.”

“I did.” He chuckles before tipping his head back to down the shot. “Let her go for a ride, man.”

“I’m good,” I dismiss him.

“Because you’re letting her ride you?” Even drunk, he won’t let her name slip from his mouth.

“And here I thought you weren’t going to bring it up.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He shrugs. “But since we are on the topic…”

“Yes, I slept with her,” I tell him.

He groans, tossing his head back. “Why?”

With us being drunk, the music blaring, and half-naked women dancing all around us, this is not the right time to have this conversation.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Myles.” It comes out snappy, and I immediately regret it. “I’m sorry. We can talk about it later, okay?”

He nods slowly, then smiles. “Okay! In the meantime, let’s get you that lap dance!”

Shaking my head, I throw back another shot. “Nope.”

Narrowing his eyes at me, a commotion rips his gaze away. I look to where his attention is and see the waitress delivering more drinks. From the corner of my eye, Myles sits forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Would you be interested in giving my buddy here a lap dance?” Embarrassment floods me. He sounds like he is making a sales pitch.

“I’m not a dancer,” she informs him loud enough for him to hear over the bass.

“So that’s a no?” Myles questions. I nudge his side with my elbow to get him to stop.

The waitress laughs and eyes me up and down before returning her attention to Myles. “It’s a no, but I do get off in an hour if your buddy wants to have a drink with me.”

Myles claps both hands on my shoulders, rocking me back and forth. “He would love to!”

I offer the waitress a soft smile, and then she leaves us. “Seriously, man?”

“What?”

He looks genuinely confused, so I brush it off. Now’s not the time for fights. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

Standing from the booth, I weave in and out of the other crowded tables as I make my way back to the restroom. Thankfully, there isn’t anyone waiting to use it.

I don’t actually have to use the bathroom; I just need a breather. A break from all the noise.

Once I lock myself inside, I grip the edge of the sink and blow out a long breath. I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I stood up. My face looks distorted in the mirror, and the room tilts.

Shit.

Getting wasted was the last thing I wanted to do. It’s been a great distraction from the knowledge that Veronica killed someone and the police showed up at my door, but it is soon going to fade, and I’m going to have to face all that.

I was supposed to help her get rid of that knife, which I was hoping to do tonight, but with the state I’m in, I don’t think that is going to happen.

Which is not good. The longer that knife sits in my apartment with that man’s blood all over it, the worse it’s going to be if the officers show back up.

Turning the faucet on for the cold water, I cup my hands underneath the stream and splash it on my face. The icy water stings my heated skin but feels refreshing. It won’t sober me up much, but it’s a start.

After drying myself off with a paper towel, I open the door and head down the dimly lit hallway. I guess the water didn’t do too much because I hadn’t realized someone was walking from the other way until my body ran into theirs.