Page 73 of Gabriel's Salvation

When I arrive I realize the door is locked. What the fuck?

I bang on the door, once..twice… on the third knock the door swings open. A very rumpled looking Declan stands in front of me in what appears to be an old t-shirt and plaid pants. Is he in sleep pants? What the fuck is going on?

“What?” Declan snaps. Before he realizes it's me and his face changes.

“I could have beat your skull in,” Declan says as he lets out a deep breath and lowers the baseball bat I now notice in his left hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I'd like to see you try,” I joke as I push my way past him. Where is everyone?

“We’re closed asshole,” Declan says on a sigh as he shakes his head and locks the door behind me. Is it that late?

“Whiskey, and leave the fucking bottle,” I snap to Declan as I slump down at my usual corner of the bar.

“So, business hours clearly mean fuck all to you then,” he mumbles under his breath as he makes his way around the bar.

“One of these days I'm gonna get to keep a bottle for my actual customers,” Declan jokes as he reaches for the bottle, the one I know he keeps especially for me, on the top shelf.

“Who you kidding, these fuckers...” I say motioning around to the completely empty bar, “...wouldn’t know their Bell’s from their Macallan’s.”

“Well, when you start ordering Macallan’s, I’ll stop complaining,” Declan smirks.

“Fine, I may not be getting drunk on $200 whiskey, but I also refuse to drink the cat piss you serve,” I groan as I snatch the bottle of Glenfiddich out of his hands.

I hear Declan mumble something in response but instead of listening or answering, I simply flip him the middle finger and go back to drowning my sorrows.

I sit drowning my sorrows as Declan scurries around the place, cleaning up and restocking the shelves for tomorrow.

“Who is she?” Declan asks, suddenly appearing right over my shoulder.

“What the fuck, man?” I slur as I try flipping my phone over hoping to hide the picture, even though it's obviously too late. “Who do you think you are, creeping up on me?”

“Well if you didn't have your eyes glued to the screen, you'd have noticed me, wouldn't you, dipshit,” he says, swiping the phone from the bar. I attempt to stop him, but my alcohol fueled reflexes are shit.

“She's hot.” Declan says, and I don't miss the way his beady little eyes stare at her. You think I don't know what your mind is imagining, dickhead!

A possessive growl leaves my lips. “Don't even think about it,” I say through gritted teeth. I've already been in one fight tonight; I don't need to get in another.

“Woah, not like you to give a fuck. Who is she?” Declan asks as he pulls up a seat beside me.

“Nobody!” I snap feeling my blood boil at the idea of anyone, even Declan, who is an alright guy I guess, looking at my girl like that.

“So does this no one have a number? Maybe I'll give it a call,” Declan teases. I wish I could wipe that stupid shit-eating grin off his face.

“Relax, tough guy, I'm just joking. No need to try and murder me with your eyes.” Shit, was it that obvious?

“Just felt like testing out a little theory,” he adds, as he looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

Fine, I'll bite, I guess. “What fucking theory?” I toss out.

“Oh just that you're actually human after all. For a while I wondered if you were a robot sent here purely to drink and fuck.”

I wish! Life was so much simpler when I had no goddamn emotions. Before Nate came back and before Riley started sending my brain fucking haywire.

“Screw you,” I grumble as I stumble off my chair and make my way towards the back of the bar.

“Where do you think YOU’RE going?” Declan laughs.

“To sleep on your fucking sofa!” I shout back, not even turning to look at him as I make my way towards one of the booths, grabbing a discarded coat off the hook to use as a makeshift pillow.

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