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Chapter five
Theairhasanice, warm touch to it when I step outside. I'm still very much sober, despite the two drinks I managed to get earlier. Outside, people are lined up waiting for the bouncer to let them in. It's about to get crowded inside, so it's probably not a bad thing to be leaving now.
The walkway is bustling with people, some lining up, others walking past to find other venues. I move away from the door, heading to the small alley beside the building to wait. It's busy out there, so I feel safe. The queue of people are loud, so I step inside the alleyway, leaning against the brick wall as I fish out my lip gloss and reapply a coat.
A few minutes pass, and I begin to worry that I've been ghosted. Some people walk past me further into the alley, males and females, smoking as they hang out with their friends. It's not uncommon for the college kids to get in a quick cigarette before stepping inside, and I'm used to the smell so it doesn't bother me.
My feet are starting to ache so I start pacing the alleyway slightly, trying to relieve the pressure from the soles of my poor feet. I pass a few girls huddled at the end, their backs hunched over and the unmistakable sniffing sounds giving me a rough idea of what they are doing. I ignore it, not judging but not my scene. Turning around, I pace back, about ready to call it a loss because frankly, I value my feet more than some random dick, when I nearly bump into a solid body.
"Oh, sorry," I mutter, side stepping the tanned, dark-haired man. He steps with me, and I let off a nervous laugh, waiting for him to move passed me. When he doesn't, I immediately start getting warning sounds in my mind, but it's too early to panic. It's just ingrained in us to always be on alert as females. I move back, leaning against the wall as I look up at him. "After you," I offer.
"Thanks," he replies in a deep voice, but once again, makes no move to leave my personal space bubble. I give him a polite smile, looking over to the entrance to see if I can spot Shelden Cooper, but alas, no. Definitely have been ghosted. My theory is he's a psych major, and probably instantly knew I was a fucked up mess so he ran for it. His loss, really. But it didn't help my own predicament now.
"I'll step around you then," I say, this time with more power, my usual protective persona rearing up as my patience wears thin. I move forward but his arm boxes me in.
It's official, this guy is asking for trouble. I'm already assessing how and when to knee him in the balls when he leans forward, giving me what I'm sure he thinks is a seductive grin.
"Why don't you come hang with me? We could have some fun, baby?"
My hand pushes back on his sternum in a warning. "No, thanks. Let me pass."
I resist the urge to vomit when I smell his breath as he tries to come closer. "Really? Come on, I've seen you around the bar before. I don't have any expectations."
Anger rears its ugly head and I glare at him with disgust. "Well, unlucky for you, I do. And you don't meet them, or my standards, so back the fuck off."
Annoyance, followed by rejection and anger cross his face. "Fuck you, slut."
I laugh unexpectedly, because the irony doesn't escape me. "You wish," I sneer.
Realizing we've reached the critical point, I brace myself. His plan is written all over his face, and I regret allowing myself to be trapped against a wall, in an alleyway. The girls are still huddled in the corner, too off their face to realize their surroundings or our altercation. I'm thankful that he did actually choose me, because they are too vulnerable right now and I'm feeling the need to get him out of the alley away from all of us.
His body lunges forward, and I swing my knee up, colliding with something but the impact is short lived. No sooner has my knee hit his junk, he is propelled backwards, landing on the ground with a grunt. I look up in surprise, my eyes finding Asher as he stares down venomously at the creep on the ground.
“Get your hands off her, you son of a bitch,” he snarls.
I’m taken back by his tone, not used to hearing such anger from the usually playful, cool and collected brunette.
The guy groans as he rolls to his side, swearing. He tries to push up from the ground, spitting threats at Asher but he barely manages to get to his knees before Asher’s foot collides with his ribcage. I watch in shock as Asher continues to kick the guy in his side and stomach, before reality sets in and I rush forward.
“Hey, what the hell. That’s enough, Asher,” I say, pushing him back gently. The fucker deserves all the pain he gets, but that doesn’t mean I want to see Asher in shit for it.
I’m baffled as to his presence, more so his anger as he continues staring down at the guy who is now curled up in pain, moaning.
Asher’s glare is so focused on the guy that I worry he will attack again. I pull him back, grabbing his chin to face him towards me. “Asher! Snap out of it.”
He looks at me sharply, and I hold in a gasp at how dark his expression is. His usually grey eyes are darker than normal, his jaw tight. Beside me, his hands are curled into fists and the testosterone is filling the air, choking me with confusion.
“Did he fucking touch you? I'll kill him.” he finally says, watching my expression closely.
“No. I had it under control. Jesus, what has gotten into you?”
Asher steps forward, his hand locking around my wrist. “Me?” he spits back, “Why are you lurking in the alleyway with the coke heads and rapists?”
I recoil, tugging at his grip unsuccessfully. “Seriously? Are you going to victim blame me? I was waiting for someone.”
“He’s not coming. And you’re being stupid.”
Gasping, I take a few seconds to register his comment before finally ripping my arm free. I shove him back. “Fuck off, Asher! It’s literally part of the bar. Everyone hangs around here out of the walkway. And how do you know that guy isn’t coming? Did you do something?” I ask accusingly.
