Page 21 of The Last Sunrise

“I’m sorry, I need to find my friend,” I tell him, gently taking his hands off my waist.

His grip tightens as he keeps speaking to me in another language. I shake my head, apologizing again, but really, really needing him to let me go.

“We were having a great time…” he finally says in English.

“I know,” I pant, desperately looking for Amara’s bright hair. “It’s not you— It’s the lights… I need to go.” I attempt to pull his hands away again.

It takes me too long to realize that he’s not allowing me to. What the hell? I push at his thick arms, but to no avail.

“Let me go!” I yell at him, my panic increasing at the potential of what could happen if I stay here with the lights flashing.

I tug at his wrist, the watch catches between the friction, and I feel the metal push apart. His eyes flare and he shoves at my chest, my body slams against something… someone.

I turn around to apologize. “I’m so sorry.”

Julián. I’m so relieved to see a familiar face that I don’t care if it’s him of all people.

“You broke my fucking watch!” the man shouts at me, puffing his chest and huffing his breath in my face.

Now that my dance state has ended, everything feels and appears completely different. The guy isn’t hot, not even remotely. He has an aggressive aura around him, especially now that he’s shouting in my face about breaking his watch. Any attractiveness he had is vastly outweighed by his erratic behavior.

“I didn’t mean to! I told you to let go of me!” I close my eyes again, trying to avoid the flashing.

I press my body against Julián for stability, half expecting him to move out of the way and tell me to fuck off, but he doesn’t. He squares his shoulders and moves toward the man.

“I was watching you the whole time. I saw you holding on to her when she told you to stop and you didn’t. It’s your own fault your shitty watch got broken,” he tells him casually but loud enough that the man and everyone around us hear it.

The man’s face reddens, embarrassment and anger swirling in his light eyes. He pushes Julián, making us both rock back a few feet. Julián says something to him in Spanish that I can’t hear or understand, and motions for me to go to the table. Ifollow his finger and finally spot Amara and Prisha, who are making out, and rush toward them. I grab my purse, not wanting to interrupt, but I must get out of here.

Neither of them notices me as I disappear back into the crowd, closing and opening my eyes to the match the rhythm of the flash. Not that that will help, but it gives me a false sense of hope. Passing the bar, I wonder if Fabio will be pissed or get in trouble if I don’t pay. There’s a crowd in front of the bar, so I’ll come back first thing tomorrow and pay. If this wasn’t an emergency, I’d never do this. Just as I reach the door, I’m pulled back by my purse. Thinking the strap got stuck on something, I yank it, but the resistance is too strong. Fuck me. It’s the watch guy.

“Pay me for my watch!” he says, his jaw tightening as he holds up the barely “broken” watch.

“You wouldn’t let go of me! I’m sorry about your watch, you can come to my hotel tomorrow and I’ll give you money for it, but I have to leave!”

He studies me for a moment. “Which hotel?”

Relief fills me and my shoulders drop. As much as I hate throwing my mother’s money around, I will do anything to get the hell out of this place right now.

A warm hand clasps over my mouth just as I say the name of my hotel. I recognize the smell of him without looking. Julián, the man who’s everywhere.

“Don’t tell him,” he says in my ear.

“Here.” He throws a bill into the air, and it floats down, dancing between us before it lands on the floor. I can’t tell how much it is, but it doesn’t seem to be enough for the man.

“I don’t need you to rescue me,” I growl at Julián.

Even though I’m thankful, there’s something about him that still makes me defensive, like I need to make sure he knows I don’t need him. I can pay for the stupid watch myself.Well, my mom could.

“That’s not enough!” the guy says, grabbing Julián’s shirt and pulling him closer.

I look toward the door to find the security guy from earlier, but he’s nowhere to be found. Fuck.

“It’s not a fucking Rolex,” Julián tells him, trying to loosen the man’s grip on him.

It’s not working. Julián’s strong, but this man is huge and enraged and way more intoxicated than the two of us combined. Veins popping out on his forehead and forearms, sweat on his oily forehead and the neckline of his shirt. As he draws one fist back to punch Julián, I wrap my purse around my fist and swing, hoping the water bottle from the hotel is strong enough to at least surprise him enough to let go of Julián.

With a cartoon-like WOMP, my purse slaps across the man’s face and he stumbles back. I grab hold of Julián’s shirt and drag him out the door with me. We run to the end of the street, turn the corner, and stop. I’m out of breath from all the adrenaline, my body instantly melting a little as the night air rolls over me. I bend my knees and put my hands on them, trying to catch my breath but finding myself laughing.

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