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“No, I don’t actually have to stay here.”
His intense gaze followed her. “I think you’re going into subdrop.”
“I’m fine. I have to be up early for work.”
“Stop.” He put a hand over hers as she worked on strapping on her stupid sandals. She shoved his hand away.
“Fuck off.” She finished tying the second sandal and ran her fingers through her impossible snarled hair. Her face was hot and itchy from crying. She could only imagine how repulsive and blotchy she was.
“Juliet, stay. You need to process this here while you have someone to talk to and take care of you. Leaving is just going to make it worse.” He was on his feet too now, pulling his shirt on, standing in front of the door.
“Get out of the way or I’m calling the cops,” she said, not sure how she sounded so calm while her head was so full of screaming and ugliness.
He sighed, but stepped aside.
“Subdrop happens sometimes, Juliet. You don’t know what to do. Please stay so I can take care of you, just for a while.”
“I’ll fucking Google it.” In the most aggressive show she’d ever put on, she pushed past him, making sure to catch him with her shoulder on the way out. Thank God he didn’t follow her, because she didn’t know what else she was capable of. She felt all wrong—off balance, weak. Her mind was a huge mess. She felt like puking.
> She ducked into a main floor washroom and rubbed cold water on her face. A pretty young girl with blue-and-purple hair and kind eyes handed her a paper towel.
“You okay?” the girl asked.
Stubbornly, Juliet jerked her chin up. “No, not really, but I will be.”
The girl’s brow puckered. “Asshole boyfriend or subdrop?”
“He’s an asshole, he’s not my boyfriend, and he did say I was probably having subdrop.”
“Do you need anything? Water? Food? A hug?”
“I’m too dirty to hug anyone right now, but if you could do me a favor?”
“Sure, hon.”
“Check the hallway and see if there’s a really hot redheaded guy hanging around?”
The girl hissed in displeasure. “Will or Grant?”
“Will,” Juliet admitted. Stupidly, it hadn’t crossed her mind this girl might know him, even though he owned the fucking club. Duh. She’d probably feel bad for snitching on him to someone he knew if she ever planned on seeing him again.
“William motherfucking Ellis,” the girl snarled under her breath, then stomped out the door. There was shouting, but Juliet couldn’t make out the words over the loud music. She came back a couple of minutes later.
“I got rid of him for now. I called you a cab, but you should probably stay, even if it’s just with me. I’m Dex, by the way.”
“Dex?”
“My last name is Dexter, and that’s what people call me here, thank God.”
“Why thank God?” she asked absently, still feeling dizzy.
The girl grimaced. “Because my first name is Arabella, and I’ll kill anyone who calls me that.” She laughed, and Juliet could understand why. Dex was so tomboyish that Arabella seemed like an odd name for her. “The only person around here who calls me Arabella does it to piss me off.”
“Got it.” Juliet managed to give her a nod. “Thanks for calling a taxi for me, Dex. I really need to get home.”
“Baby yourself for the next while, okay?”
She gave her a weak smile.
