It was only a drink.
I wasn’t planning to mainline crack in the toilets.
One drink and I’d go home.
I just needed to not feel for a little while. Before I had to face Flynn and admit how fucked I really was.
I walked inside the dimly lit bar and looked around. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon, so the place was all but dead.
The after work crowd hadn’t shown up yet. The place smelled the same as I remembered it. Like stale beer and depression.
I had spent a lot of time in this bar, drinking, getting into fights, acting like a fool. But that didn’t seem so bad right now. At least I hadn’t been hanging onto delusional hopes that I could do something better.
“What can I get ya?”
I looked at the unfamiliar bartender and asked for a whiskey sour, my old staple.
After getting my drink, I hopped up on a stool and stirred it with the tiny cocktail straw.
“Hey babe, can I buy you a drink?”
I glanced up at the middle-aged pick up master and glared. “I think I’m covered. Now go away,” I said, my tone a clear warning.
The guy, clearly a few cards short of a deck, wasn’t getting my very obvious point. He sat down beside me and leaned in close. He smelled like too much cologne used to cover up sweat and swamp ass.
“You look familiar. Do you come in here a lot?” he asked, angling his face close to mine.
“If you don’t back the fuck off, I’m going to reach down those too tight pants, grab ahold of your balls, and shove them up your ass.” I bared my teeth.
“Shit girl, you sure know how to talk dirty,” Mr. Pick-Up Line grinned, his teeth stained from tobacco.
“I’d listen to her. She’s been known to take out bigger dudes than you, old man,” someone piped up.
I looked behind my unwelcome admirer and suppressed a groan. It was Shane Nolan. Not my idea of a knight in shining armor.
“Oh come on. She’s just a cute little thing,” the stupid jackass beside me laughed.
“Okay, well let’s try this another way,” Shane said. He grabbed the guy by the back of the shirt and hauled him off the stool and shoved him hard.
“I’m not lookin’ for no trouble,” the middle-aged jerk stuttered.
“Then get lost,” Shane replied, giving him a menacing smile.
The guy scampered away, and I almost wished he’d come back. I could tolerate his disgusting advances a hell of a lot more than Shane’s. I had spent years avoiding his overtly sexual come ons. And I wasn’t in the mood to deal with them now.
I went back to sipping on my drink and ignoring everyone around me. Particularly my former acquaintance.
“You were right, Reg. Ellie is back. I guess I owe you a twenty,” Shane chuckled, slapping his hand down on the bar.
“Can’t a girl drink in peace?” I mumbled.
Shane looked the same. Spiky blond hair overly gelled and styled and a giant loserfied grin that had my palms itching to slap him. Reggie stood off to the side looking as emaciated and bombed out as she had when I had seen her at Darla’s.
“I never thought I’d see your beautiful face back in these parts,” Shane chuckled, waving the bartender down and ordering a beer. Reggie flanked my other side, patting my arm and giving me a silly, drug addled smile.
“I had hoped to never have to see your ugly mug again,” I said, returning to my whiskey, finishing it off and waving the bartender down for another.
“Why all the hostility, Ells? Can’t an old friend just be happy to see you?” he asked and I narrowed my eyes in his direction.
