AllFreeNovel
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Just after midnight, they announce Andre as DJ Dred. The crowd erupts. He’s clearly been building a bigger following than I thought. It seems like a lot of people have come out tonight because of him. The second drink in combination with one of my favorite songs makes me start to dance, and I realize how much I’ve missed this part of myself lately.
I work my way out to the dance floor and find a spot for myself. I don’t mind dancing alone. Sometimes I prefer it. It’s easier to get lost in the music and just do what I want.
I glance back to the bar where I came from. There’s a man standing right where I was a minute ago. Maybe I felt him looking at me. Maybe he just stands out so blatantly that I caught sight of him from the corner of my eye. A very tall, very handsome man in a well-cut suit is watching me. But the thing that jolts me as my eyes meet his is how he seems to own the place, just by the way he stands. I feel myself blush and look away quickly.
He wasn’t leering or staring at me. More like he was observing me. But it shocked me. Maybe it was his size, or age. He looks older than anyone else here by at least 10 years. I keep dancing and try to casually glance back and take another look at him. He’s gone. He’s no longer at the bar and I don’t see him anywhere in the crowd.
I shake his image out of my head and go back to dancing.
A couple of songs later, I feel two hands wrap around my waist from behind. I whip around to face some guy I don’t know, probably a few years younger than me.
“What the fuck?” I yell at him. This was my least favorite thing about the clubs.
“What’s up? C’mon, let’s dance” he says, grabbing my hands and trying to pull me toward him. I jerk my hands away from him.
“Fuck off. Don’t touch me.” Nothing pisses me off as much as these assholes who think they can just sneak up on you and grab you.
“C’mon!” His face turns angry. “Don’t be such a bit—“
Before he can finish, a hand wraps around his throat and lifts him off the dance floor. A scary shade of purplish red starts to rise up his neck and face.
I look to my left, following the arm that’s lifting him. It’s the man in the suit. He tosses the grabby guy down onto the floor, where he crawls backward, grasping at his throat.
The man in the suit glances at me, looking me up and down. I can tell he’s checking if I’m okay, not as if I’m his property.
“Lookout!” I yell. A friend of the guy who groped me swings a fist at the man in the suit from behind. The man in the suit turns and the punch glances off his brow, the friend’s ring catching him just above his eye.
The man in the suit head butts grabby guy’s friend and pushes him down onto the floor as well.
Several security guards have pushed their way through the crowd, drawn by the interruption to the usual dancing. Two guards each grab the guy who groped me and his friend, dragging them off the dance floor.
The music is still playing, and people fill back in and continue dancing. The man in the suit touches his hand to his brow. He sees the blood on his finger as he takes it away. He squints, looking me over again. Seeing that I’m fine, he turns and walks off the dance floor.
I stand there frozen for a minute. I can’t go back to dancing. The spell has been broken.
I walk back toward the bar and see the man in the suit with a glass of water and a napkin wiping the blood from his brow.
“Here, let me,” I say to him, taking the water from his hand and grabbing another napkin. I push him down onto a barstool so that I can reach his forehead.
“I can do it myself,” he says but he doesn’t put up any further fight.
I wet the napkin in the water and dab it to the cut on his head.
“Just because you can do it yourself, doesn’t mean you have to,” I tell him. “It’s not very deep, but you should still get it cleaned.” I finish wiping the blood from around his wound. “There. It’s as good as your going to get at the bar.”
He swivels to the bar and scowls into the mirror behind it. He turns back to me and nods, still not smiling.
“I could have handled that myself,” I tell him. “Probably without escalating it as much as you did.”
He shrugs. “Just because you could, doesn’t mean you had to.”
“Also,” I add. “If you’re going to pull theWhite Knightroutine, it helps if you don’t run away immediately after.”
“You’re here now,” he shrugs again. This time he pulls out the bar stool next to him. I take the seat next to him.
“Klein,” I say putting out my hand to shake his.
“Mateo.” He shakes my hand.
