Page 118 of Enforcer

I toss my phone onto the bed and turn away from it, letting the pain and anguish rip through me like a knife. I deserve it.

I earned it.

Even though I know I won’t sleep, I close my eyes.

All I can keep seeing behind my closed lids, however, are his final words to me.

I’m glad I have days off because I won’t be okay for a long time.

As long as he was texting, I was holding it together. I was sad, but I was managing because he was still there.

Now, I have to mourn the loss.

I have to grieve.

The club is so fuckingloud, but it drowns out all the swirling thoughts in my head as I drug them with bourbon after bourbon.

“Damn, girl, can you even taste them?” Melonie asks.

I hiss as my throat burns, slamming the glass down on the small round table the four of us are sitting at. “Sorry. It’s been a long couple of days.”

“I can see that,” Sheila adds, tossing a weighted look at Melonie. No doubt, they’re going to talk shit about me the moment I leave the table for any reason.

I don’t care, though.

They’re nothing but a necessary thing to pass my time. One needs girlfriends to prowl the town with every so often to stay sane, and these three work on my floor and invited me out with them the first week I worked at PwC.

Melonie is in her third marriage but has no children. Sheila is newly single and ready to mingle with everyone, and Charlene is quiet and reserved. She has a serial killer vibe, but I don’t mind her. She keeps to herself, after all.

I think they let her come along because they’re afraid of her.

I snort inwardly at my joke as the liquor buzzes through me.

Thank God.

I hate that I’ve become this new person who has to drown her thoughts and feelings out only because they’re so at odds with what’s good for me.

I almost texted back this morning. Sure, it’s not the first time I’ve nearly answered, but I typed it this time.

Right before I hit send, I threw the phone and broke it.

Probably for the best. Drunk Alyssa doesn’t make wise choices when it comes to men.

I think back to the last time I was drunk, and Dante spanked me before he fucked me five ways to Sunday, and a blush spreads across my cheeks.

“I’m going to get another. Does anyone want one?” I ask the table.

Sheila and Melonie give me looks before shaking their heads, and Charlene smiles meekly before sliding off her stool.

“I’ll go with you.”

She most likely wants to escape them.

I nod, waiting for her to get through the small crowd of men at the table beside us before we head to the bar.

We stand there for the longest time, waiting for the bartender to see us.

Charlene clears her throat. “You doing alright? I noticed you weren’t at work the last couple of days. Ken said you took some time off.”

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