10

 Wishing that something would numb the empty feeling inside of me.

One shot.

Two shots.

Three shots.

Whole bottles.

My vision getting hazier with every swallow, the loud music roaring in my ears, making every single nerve of mine stand on edge.

Blood pounding throughout my body as I continued to immerse myself in my surroundings.

I thought about my father’s pleading face as he died. How the color drained out of his face, as he stopped fighting for his life.

And I blamed myself.

I fucking blamed myself for all of this. For the mess I’d created.

There was no coming back from my countless fuck-up’s. I was a fucking monster. I watched my own father die in my arms.

I blinked several times, willing myself to stand up, but I slumped back down in my chair, feeling tears pool in my eyes.

Every memory coming back to haunt me like a form of motherfucking torture.

Just like I knew it would.

I needed it to stop.

I wanted to scream.

To scream until my throat went dry. To scream until my voice-box collapsed on me, and my lungs wouldn’t allow me to scream anymore.

I saw a woman on the other side of the bar lock her eyes with mine. She had jet black hair, big blue eyes, a pointed nose, creamy skin, plump, juicy pink lips that would look good wrapped around my fucking cock. Big thighs, big tits, a big ass. Thick and busty, just how I liked my women.

Maybe fucking would be my only solution right now.

Fucking and forgetting.

She walked over to me, in those tall skyscraper fuck-me high-heels, and she was wearing a tiny outfit, leaving little to the imagination. Just thinking about her in her lacy bra and knickers, wearing just her high-heels…

Was enough to push me over the fucking edge.

“Hey,” she smiled, pouting, playing around with her hair with her finger.

“Hey,” I replied bluntly, looking at her up and down with a predatory regard. My eyes darkening with desire the more I drunk in her big frame, her beautiful fucking face.

“You on your own, too?” she asked, biting her lip.

“What does it look like?” I sneered, folding my arms.

“Want me to keep you company?”

“Look darling, I don’t do small talk,” I snarled. “We both know full well you only came over here for one thing. So how about you quit the angel act and cut to the fucking chase?”

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me, closing the little space we had between us, and a gasp escaped her lips.

“I fuck hard. Rough. Nasty. Fast,” I rasped against her ear, causing her to shudder, and goosebumps to rise on her skin. Tracing circles on the small of her back, letting her get ready for me. Allowing her skin to burn underneath my touch. “You live round here, darling?”

“Yeah, my apartment is two blocks away,” she moaned.

“You wanna get out of here, then?” I smirked, planting a kiss on her neck.

She gave me a feeble nod, taking my hand in hers, leading me straight out of the club. Hardly able to walk straight after the encounter we’d just had.

Hell, if I’d got her this undone with just a few words, I could only imagine how much she’d moan and scream when we did the real thing.

I continued to walk unsteadily, the alcohol still spinning around my system. As I reached the exit of the club, I was shocked when I saw Fizz standing there with his arms folded, looking at me with a deadly expression on his face.

“What the fuck are you playing at, bro?” Fizz snarled.

“What does it look like? I’m having fun,” I sneered.

Fizz’s eyes darted towards the lady I had hanging on my arm, and he threw me a look of disgust.

 “What do you think you’re playing at? You already have a girlfriend and you’re out here getting hammered, about to fuck another woman? Is one girl not enough for you?” he seethed.

Fizz was right. I did have a woman in my life, but it was a woman I didn’t fucking care for. A woman my father set me up with a long time ago, insisting that it was good for business.