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Chapter 3 Part 6
“What?” Tami is at my side, yelling between us.
“His wife moved in again after like ten years, apparently they separated but never divorced?“ I pat at my jean pockets, looking for my card. I need another shot.
“You reckon he killed someone?” Tami somehow sounds more British than usual.
“He had a kid?” James seems to be concerned for different reasons.
“Well, he didn’t deny it when I asked — he said that they all know how the kid died and who was responsible. Bobs your fucking uncle. Another tequila please!” I think the bartender is eavesdropping, she’s already looking when I sway in her direction. I need both arms to hold myself up.
“On the house.” Probably shouting me a drink for the entertainment.
“Damon would never.” Tami is frowning. I’ve always thought she wouldn’t mind boinking him. She did seem to fancy Damon, actually. And why wouldn’t he?
I’m a bit more interested in my shot. It’s gone quite
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His other hand wraps through my hair, though it feels like he’s trying to scalp me. And his lips meet mine like they never have. His teeth wrap around my lip. “Stop it.” I draw back so slightly. “You’re drunk.” It always works in the movies. “And horny,” And his lips are on mine again. He walks me backwards. Another puddle splashes up my leg. And the wind is knocked straight out of me again when I hit a brick wall. Though it very well could be a dumpster. It certainly smells like there is one around here. Maybe it’s just his breath. “Stop it!” I tug and tug at my own wrist. He’s trying to scalp me again. But this time his breath is on my neck. His teeth are tugging at my collar. Great. He’s going to rip my blouse open. I’m going to be defiled in an alleyway and I won’t even have a shirt to put back on. This is humiliation. “You’re hurting me,” I don’t feel quite as scared or angry as I thought I would in this situation—not that I’ve consider
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