He snorts. “What, she your sister or something?”
Sisk turns on the stool, slow, giving him her full attention. The moron mistakes it for an invitation.
“Serious,” he says, leaning in like he’s sharing a secret. “A woman like you shouldn’t be in a shithole like this. Especially not arguing with the help.”
The glass in my hand doesn’t just crack, it shatters. Sisk’s eyes sink to the blood welling up between my knuckles, dripping onto the bar. The guy is too busy staring at her lips to notice.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs. “I’ve got a place two blocks down.”
“Let me ask you something,” Sisk cuts in. “Are you the kind of man who can sit down and have an actual conversation about relationship issues? Or do you just hide behind a liquor bottle and hope no one notices you’re scared?”
My head snaps toward her.
The guy laughs too loudly. “Oh, I’m not scared of anything.”
She arches a brow. “Really?”
He leans too close. “Come on, a mouth like that shouldn’t be wasted on talking.”
That’s the fucking line.
I move.
Matt groans, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
I take one step out from behind the bar. The world narrows to this one piece of shit. He finally looks up, and the smug smile on his face dies when he sees me.
“Hey,” he says, putting hands up like he’s surrendering. “Didn’t do anything.”
I stop two feet from him, take the glass from his hand and set it carefully back on the counter.
He laughs, nervous but trying to recover. “Alright, man. No need to get dramatic.”
I just look at him. “OUT.”
He laughs again, weaker. “You don’t get to tell me where I can?—”
I lean in. “If you’re still standing here in five seconds, I’m going to break your jaw so they have to wire it shut for six weeks. And I’m going to fucking enjoy it.”
He looks at Sisk for help, but she’s just watching me.
Matt moves behind the bar. “You heard him. Go.”
The guy backs off the stool. “Whatever,” he gruffs out, and practically runs for the door.
The bar noise comes back.
Sisk’s eyes are on me, burning. “You don’t get to ignore me and then act like a fucking animal.”
“Cool off,” Matt mutters near my shoulder. “Before you break something we can’t afford to replace.”
I look down, my hand is bleeding all over the bar.
Sisk grabs my cigarettes. “We’re not done.” She walks out and I follow her because that’s my life’s purpose, apparently.
Sisk is standing under the metal awning, her hands shaking as she tries to get a flame. The lighter sparks, dies. Sparks, dies. She swears under her breath. The third time she tries, I step forward. I take the lighter from her cold fingers, cupping the flame against the wind. The cigarette catches. I take a drag first, a deep, pulling inhale that does nothing to calm the rage thrumming under my skin, then I pass it to her. She drags too hard, smoke rushing out of her in a shaky cloud.
“I’ve been gone all day. I gave you space,” she says. “I know what I did. I know I should’ve told you, but you need to give me a chance to explain.”
