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SIX
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Tequila and my favorite white little pill. A match made in heaven I appreciate on nights like tonight. Nights where the pain is at an all-time high, the sound excruciating, and the gaping hole inside of me as hollow as it’ll ever be. It’s a mind numbing experience I have grown accustomed to. I crave it. I ache for it, because when I’m under, I’m invincible instead of invisible. Nothing and no one can hurt me. And this is the only way I can truly live.
A feeling I’ve gotten used to, a life I’ve learned to tolerate.
No one knows of my addiction. No one knows it's he who’s gotten me addicted.
How do you ensure someone stays by your side and never betrays you? You give them something they can’t get anywhere else. You make them dependent on you, and I became dependent on it.
I’ve been careful my whole life. Calculated every move, planned every action, and ensured that my secrets stay buried in the depths of my subconscious. He threatened that. Kai dug himself deeper and deeper into my safety net, and I’m afraid if he were to stay any longer, he’d uncover it all. Maybe it’s for the best that he keeps his distance. Perhaps I should take this loss as a blessing.
We don’t have a future together, might as well realize that now. My uncle has mine planned out for me and there is no way Malachi Saint fits into it.
“I’m gonna go order us another round. Anything else I can get you guys?” I shout out over the loud music. 2000s hip hop is the theme of the night and all I can say is this is the best night I’ve had in a long time.
“I’m good,” Bex shouts back as she sways back and forth to the music.
Ruby ignores me, grinding her ass on some guy that’s been dancing with her for the past two hours. Apparently it’s some ex-boyfriend from before her relationship with Jax, who she is quote on quote, on a break with.
Walking over to the bar, I look around the crowded nightclub, feeling someone's stare on me. Of course, everyone is oblivious to the random drunk chick dragging her heels to the bar, but I still have this paranoid feeling someone is watching me.
I push my way through the group, blocking my path, and finally make my way to the bar counter, waving down the bartender to place my drink order. He ignores me, of course, tending to some super-hot girls who are majorly flirting with him.
“Great, not even in this shit hole am I seen.”
I feel someone come up beside me, but I’m too afraid to turn around. “Trust me, in a place like this, it’s better to be invisible.”
I don’t recognize his voice, yet something about it sounds oddly familiar. Slowly, I turn to face him, pleasantly surprised by what I find. Light brown hair, slightly long and curling at the ends, and the softest, kindest amber eyes. Dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket, he looks nothing like the other guys who’ve approached me tonight. I smile softly at him, about to speak, just as I see the emblem stitched on the right side of his jacket. My smile quickly fades. I’m not sure what it stands for, but I know I’ve seen it on a handful of those creeper motorcycle thugs.
His gaze follows mine as he realizes my sudden reluctance. “Not a fan of the Cobras?” he asks, though it doesn’t quite sound like he’s expecting a serious answer.
“I’m not sure I know who they are. Hard to like something you don’t know about,” I answer smugly, turning back to the bartender, who’s still blatantly ignoring me.
The kind looking, now slightly intimidating stranger moves closer to me, reaching his arms out over me. Before I can react, I realize he’s waving over the bartender, calling him with a loud whistle.
Immediately, he turns to us, rushing over as he stutters nervously. “Prophet, my man, I didn’t see you here. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“You kept my friend here waiting, Fang. How am I supposed to make a good impression if the service here is shit?”
“Sorry man, I promise it won’t happen again. It’s just a really busy night.”
“Excuses Fang, you know how I feel about those. Johnny Walker neat, and whatever this beauty would like.”Prophet, as the bartender called him, looks over at me with a sly smirk whileFangawaits my response.
“Tequila, three shots,” I mutter with no follow up. Fang’s eyebrows raise in question, but after the berating he just got, doesn’t dare question me.
Prophet looks over at me, curiosity clear in his eyes. “They’re not all for me,” I feel myself needing to explain. “I’m here with my friends,” I add, pointing at the dance floor, only to no longer find Ruby and Bex.
“No need to explain, Little Dove. I’m not one to judge.” He takes a long sip of his drink and although he is not keeping me from going back to the girls, I find I am in no hurry to walk away.
“Little Dove?” I ask, unsure of the nickname he’s just given me.
“Beautiful, gentle, innocent. All the characteristics of a pretty little dove.”
I blush, unable to hide the smile that crosses my face. “That is just your assumption of me. Doesn’t mean it’s the truth.”
He smirks wickedly, “I’m rarely wrong.”
