Page 7 of A Grinchmas Delight

“Yeah. Or something.”

“Is she someone you dated?”

“Fucking Christ, Johnny. What’s with the twenty-one questions?”

“My bad. You just checked all the way out of this conversation when ol’ boy sat down next to her.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should get out of here. It’s late and I’ve already had more than I should’ve.”

“One more?”

I laugh. Leave it to my brother. “Alright. One more.”

I grab the glasses and walk to the bar to order another round. I can’t help my wandering eyes as the bartender fixes our drinks. Dayra no longer looks as happy as she was when I was watching their interaction earlier and I wonder what transpired.

The guy is leaned in close to her now, whispering something in her ear. She looks unamused at whatever he’s telling her then she shakes her head no. He says something else and she says the word no.

I’m only a few seats over from where they sit at the corner of the bar and I walk over, where I’m only one seat away from them. Dayra looks to be drunk or buzzed at the least. Her eyes lull closed and back open slowly. She shakes her head no again. The guy grabs her by the wrist and she cries out in pain, trying to free her arm from his grip.

I take two steps and tap the guy on the shoulder. He turns around, glaring at me. “Can I help you, bruh?”

“Yeah. You have two seconds to let her arm go.”

“Or what?”

I don’t have time to explain what I’m going to do. I rear back and deliver a blow to his right eye. He immediately lets go of Dayra to grip at his face.

“You motherfucker!”

Dayra stares at me like she’s seen a ghost and I don’t have time to say anything before ol’ boy swings on me. He lands a punch to my cheek and I don’t even have time to react before Johnny knocks him out. The man turns into a statue and hit the ground.

Johnny shakes his hand. “Handsy motherfucker.”

The bartender calls for one of the regulars down the bar. “Hey, Marshall! Can you get Leon out of here? He done fucked with the wrong one again.”

“Sure thing, Dolly.”

Marshall makes his way down the bar and lifts Leon up underneath his arms and drags him out the front door. The music is still playing but the entire bar is staring at us. Dayra is still sitting on her barstool, staring at us.

“Dayra, look, I’m sor?—“

“Thank you,” she says, cutting me off. I stand there, staring at her. Words evading me.

“That guy was being a jackass,” Johnny chimes in. “Hi, I’m Johnny. Zane’s older brother.”

Dayra takes his hand. “Dayra. I work for Zane.” She slurs her words, confirming that she is indeed drunk.

“What are you doing out here? Did you drive?”

“My aunt lives up the street. I’m staying there tonight because I knew I’d be drinking. My aunt drove me. Dolly’s going to bring me home.”

Satisfied with her answer, I turn and walk away, needing to be away from her. Johnny lags behind, talking about God only knows what. Probably grilling Dayra about how we know each other and her working for me and how terrible of a boss I am. I grit my teeth and retrieve our drinks and sit down, sipping mine more aggressively than I have been. My fist hurts already. Johnny sits at the bar next to me and grabs his glass.

“I knew you were lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“I told you you knew her.”

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