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“Are you fucking kidding me, cunt. You don’t even know where you are?”
“Okay, so now I’m a cunt,” I say out loud, once again brain farting on the fact that Treyton is on the phone listening. If he says anything, I don’t hear it as I turn to the woman behind me. “Sorry, but can you tell me the name of this place?”
She looks up from her phone.
“Friction 187.”
“Thank you.” I give her a smile, or at least I think I smiled, turning back around. “Friction 187,” I say into the phone.
“What are you…”
His words abruptly cut off.
Pulling the phone back, there’s a black screen staring back at me.
I tap on the screen several times.
Dead…
Well, fuck.
Too drunk to really dwell on whatever the hell just happened, I stuff my now dead cellphone back into my wristlet and turn back to the woman in front of me, who’s still looking at me like she’s preparing for a fight.
“Sorry, but is there somewhere else I can pee? I really have to go.”
“Go fucking piss in the alleyway for all I care, bitch.”
“Such language.” I make the mistake of touching her arm, though I’m not sure why or how I ended up doing so.
“Don’t touch me!” She shoves me and I tumble backward into the woman who was nice enough to tell me where the hell I am.
After mumbling an apology to the woman I was unnecessarily shoved into, I right my posture, clenching my fingers so tightly my nails dig into my palms.
I will not fight this woman.
I will not fight this woman.
I will not fight this woman.
I repeat over and over in my head.
I mean, come on. I’ve been on this earth almost thirty years and I’ve never been in an actual fight with someone, let alone hit a person.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I hear Bonnie seconds before she steps up next to me. She immediately gets in blondie’s face, so close their noses are almost touching. “Put your hands on my girl again and you’ll be leaving tonight in an ambulance, we clear?”
Something about Bonnie rattles the woman. Moments earlier she’d oozed confidence, but now she seems a bit shaken.
Bonnie can do that. She can be real intimidating when she wants to be. Especially when she’s pissed.
“Tell her not to touch me.” She squares her shoulders but it doesn’t have the effect she hopes for.
“I barely patted her arm.” I sway backward, having to grab Bonnie’s arm to stabilize myself. “Bon, I gotta pee,” I whine, tugging on her hand.
“Next time, bitch, you won’t be so lucky,” Bonnie warns, before turning her attention to me. “Come on, I have an idea.” She pulls me alongside her toward the bar.
I trip a couple of times in my attempt to keep up with her, cursing myself the entire way for drinking so freaking much.
This is not me.
