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Reaching into my pocket, I hand him the fake one I was given. He nods in approval, giving it back. “Go on in.” He winks, giving me a once-over, and I shudder.
“Hey, you lost sweetheart?” An older man grabs my arm. “I can help you find your way if so.”
“No. I'm fine. Just looking for someone.”
“Well whoever he is, he's one lucky man.”
“Yeah.” Yanking my arm free, I walk past the bar, stopping when I see the person I'm looking for dancing on stage. I take a seat nearby and when the song is over, someone takes his place and I follow him to the bar.
I tap him on the shoulder and he turns to face me, pursing his lips and tilting his head. “Can I help you, hun?”
A small scar rests above his eyebrow similar to one my brother got when he fell off his first bike. “Um… you okay? Looks like someone might've had too much to drink. Mel, get this man a cup of water.” His wide smile sends my heart racing again—a large gap rests between his front teeth.
I hold a hand to my chest, steadying myself on my feet. There's no doubt in my mind who this man standing in front of me is now. “Ethan,” I finally say.
His brows lower. “Pardon?”
“You're alive. How? Why would you keep this from me all this time?”
“Uh… you obviously have the wrong person.”
“I can't. You're Ethan. My brother.”
He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I think I know who I am better than you do, sweetie. Now come sit down and have some water.”
“No. I'm not drunk. Why are you doing this?”
“Okay, you're really starting to piss me off. I'm not doing anything but trying to prevent you from making a scene. Clearly it's not working.” He makes a head gesture toward a man by the door.
“I still have your necklace.” I pull it out from my shirt. “The one you always hated taking off,” I say, watching the large bouncer step closer.
“That's not mine, and I'm not Eric.”
“It's Ethan, and I don't believe you.”
Grinding his teeth, he takes a step back. “I don't give a shit what you believe. Go home and sleep off whatever it is you're on.”
“Time to go.” A large hand wraps around my arm, yanking me toward the door.
“Wait,” I scream. “I'm not going anywhere until my brother talks to me.”
“You don't have a choice, asshole,” the large man says.
“What seems to be the problem here, Ivan?” A middle-aged man with green eyes and light hair steps in front of us.
“This one here is causing trouble,” Ivan huffs out.
“Is he? What's your name, darlin?” His white teeth peek between his lips as he smiles at me, and I get an unsettling feeling.
“Paul,” I lie.
“And what brings you here today, Paul?”
“I… I came to visit a friend.”
“I see. Who's this friend of yours?”
“Gilly, but he said this man was bothering him and didn't seem like he knew him at all,” Ivan answers for me.
