Page 96 of Roses in Summer

“What’s going on here?” a voice behind me asks, and I turn to the speaker, security personnel, with the word stamped across his chest.

“This guy slipped something into this woman’s drink.” I nod my chin in Mitch’s direction and wave my hand toward the silent woman.

“I didn’t do shit,” Mitch yells, still fighting against his restraints.

“Shut the fuck up,” I respond, gripping the glass in my hand and mentally telling myself that throwing it at his face will land me in jail for assault.

“Both of you need to leave,” the guard orders, crossing his arms and appearing larger than he actually is. “You’re causing a disturbance at the bar.”

“Yeah, kick me out but don’t haul his ass to the police for trying to drug a drink. Sounds right,” I scoff, setting the glass down and scowling at the guard. Looking back at Mitch, I point my finger at him, careful not to touch him and give him any opportunity to say I physically assaulted him outside of a spilled drink.

A complete accident, obviously.

“Stay the fuck away from Seraphina. If I see you anywhere near her or hear that you ever approach her again, you’ll regret it.”

Understanding dawns, and he stops fighting against the hands holding him back from me. The anger in his eyes drains, replaced with a smugness that he seems to wear like a second skin. “I should have known this was about Fin. I knew you looked familiar. You’re that dishwasher from Marymount, aren’t you? Having fun with my girlfriend?”

“She’s not your goddamn girlfriend. Stay the fuck away from her.”

Mitch opens his mouth to speak, but the security guard interrupts, shoving me away from the bar. “Out! Both of you out.”

“I’m going,” I mutter, stepping out of his reach. Casting one more look at Mitch, it takes everything in me to walk away and not lunge at the asshole, especially when he winks at me and turns back to his friend. “Are you kicking that douchebag out too?”

“Right now, you’re the one causing a disturbance. Do I need to call the police?” His hand comes down on my shoulder, urging me forward.

“I said I’m fucking going. Get your hands off me.” I shrug him off and walk through the crowd, stopping at my parents’ table.

“I’m heading out.”

“Son, what happened over there?” My dad’s voice is hard, and while I’m sure he saw a security guard escort me out of the crowd by the bar from their table, I have no idea if they saw the entirety of the altercation with Mitch.

“Like I said, I saw someone I knew. Listen, I need to head out; I have the dinner shift tonight and need to grab my work bag and get some things done around my apartment before I go in.” Leaning down, I kiss my mother on the cheek before offering my hand to my dad. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Doro, I’ll be right back.” My dad gets up, fixing his salmon sports coat as he stands. His dark skin contrasts with the bright color, and I mentally cringe at the talk I know is coming.

Releasing a sigh, I walk with my dad to the front of the restaurant and slip out the doors, the eyes of the security guard probably trained on me the entire time I walk through the upscale eatery. It’s not until we’re outside, standing on the cracked sidewalk in front of the restaurant, that my dad speaks.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Clenching my jaw, I take one last look at the glass doors before turning my back to the building. “I saw someone slip something into a woman’s drink. No one did shit, or maybe they didn’t notice, but I did. So I stopped it. The asshole should be escorted out in cuffs, but the security guard seemed more concerned with me leaving.”

My dad’s face darkens as I speak, his lips turning down in a frown. “Is this the gentleman you said you knew?” I nod, looking away. “Who is he?”

Working my jaw, I bite out my answer, “Seraphina’s ex.”

“Dammit, Lincoln,” he scolds, voice incredulous. “Why do all roads lead back to Seraphina?”

“This had nothing to fucking do with her. Do you expect me to let a girl be drugged when I can fucking stop it?”

“Watch your goddamn mouth, Lincoln Simmons. You’re getting a little too comfortable throwing this profanity around with no consideration. You think your mother missed you getting thrown out of a restaurant she and the ladies at the club come to weekly? There were better ways to handle this than throwing a drink at someone and getting yourself forcibly removed.”

“It wasn’t forcibly,” I mutter, sounding like a scolded child.

Shaking his head, my dad runs a hand over his mouth, his annoyance on full display. “You’re twenty-seven years old, Lincoln. You know better than to let your temper get the better of you. Now, go home and cool down before you go to work. You’re no use to anyone when you’re like this, least of all Diana.”

“I know, alright?” I respond as I run a hand over my face and double down on my actions. “I don’t regret it, not for a second.”

Shaking his head, my dad walks around me and walks toward the door. “Just go, Lincoln.”

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