For a moment I forget everything and am taken back to a simpler time when my only concerns were college and keeping my trauma locked deeply away. Back then, my focus was being a good friend and keeping everyone around me happy. Not much has changed since then, except the added stress of giving myself over to a high-powered criminal and the continued deterioration of the relationship I have with my father.
I shake my head and rid myself of those thoughts. I'm supposed to be dancing, not thinking.
The rhythm of the music changes, and a new beat causes the entire area to start jumping up and down.
We join them and smile at each other, sweat glistening both of our bodies despite only being out here for five minutes.
Someone's hands find my waist and for a second, I go along with it and move with them. It isn't until their fingers dig a bit harder into my sides that I grow uncomfortable.
"Get your fucking hands off of her," June blurts out and shoves the guy off me. She slides her fingers under her waistband slightly and pauses like she's waiting for the guy to respond before making her decision.
Does she have a gun? A knife? A throwing fucking star?
I spin on my heel and push my palm into the guy’s chest. "I'm not interested," I tell him.
He looks me up and down and licks his lips. "Didn't seem like you weren't interested when you backed your ass up into me." The guy, some twenty-something drunk kid with a sad excuse of a beard, grabs his junk and lifts his head as if he's performing some kind of disgusting mating ritual that must only work on drunk girls at the bar.
"Back the fuck up," I tell him above the music.
Everyone else around us continues to dance and doesn't seem bothered by the altercation. And I'm grateful for it, because when this dude refuses to take no for an answer, I slide my fingers into the clutch that Miller got me and slam my fist into the prick's face.
The gold-coated brass knuckles bloody his nose and if I'm not mistaken, knocks one of his teeth out. He covers himself, pulling away to spit blood into his hand.
"You fucking bitch, what the hell," he manages to get out.
I advance on him. "Call me a bitchonemore time."
But he doesn't, instead, he scurries back into the crowd with his tail between his legs and disappears from my line of sight.
Another hand lands on my shoulder and I move quick and crane my arm back to throw another punch.
June raises her arms in front of her. "Just me."
Simon appears from fucking nowhere and scans the people around us. "Where did he go?"
I sigh and slide my hand out of the knuckles. "It's fine. I took care of it."
Simon grabs both of our elbows and all but drags us off the dance floor.
"If you're here, who's watching our drinks?" I shout so he can hear me.
Once we get to our table, my sights land on the answer to my question.
"Hey," Alec says in that perfectly charming voice of his.
I drop my clutch onto the table and rub my hand, wishing that more tequila shots would appear the same way Simon does the second June's in danger.
"Did I just see you sock a guy with this?" Alec picks up my bag and examines it. "Ew, his blood is on it."
"I'm going to get you some ice," June says and disappears before Simon can protest.
"And more tequila," I call out after her.
She throws her arm up in acknowledgment of my request and continues through the throng of bodies.
I pour beer into my mug, accidentally spilling some over the edge. I'm not that great at doing things left-handed and my right one is currently fucking throbbing.
"Haven't you had enough?" Simon asks me, his stupid green eyes watching me chug the beer.
