Page 17 of My Undead Heart
“Sir. Ma’am. Do you mind stepping outside to answer a few questions?”
Zombie girl’s gaze snaps up at the cop’s words and she pushes off the chair. “Not at all, officer. And I’m pressing charges.”
“Of course you are,” the cop says, as bored as before. She turns to hold the door open for the two to walk out first. “Don’t go too far,” she advises me. “We may need to ask you a few follow-up questions.”
“I’m here all night.” I nod at Tana and she offers me a soft smile. When the doors shut, I do a quick scan of the bar, thankful the crowd seems happily intoxicated for the moment, dancing and singing along to the band on stage.
“That was fun.” I wink at Tana and she just shakes her head.
“Welcome to Friday nights. My bet? You’ll get to do that at least three more times before we lock the doors.”
I shake my head as soon as the words leave her lips. “I don’t take bets. Sorry.”
She shrugs. “I’m just glad you’re here to do the dirty work. You handle yourself well, Matt.”
“Thanks.” Tana’s gaze lingers a little too long on my chest, and for the first time tonight I worry I’ve inadvertently sent her the wrong signals. Don’t get me wrong, she’s cute and nice, but I’m not looking for a hookup. Especially when the zombie beauty whose captured my thoughts is just outside.
Concern that she might leave before I make sure she’s okay has my feet stepping away from Tana and toward the door. “I’m gonna check and see if I can leave a statement now. Come get me if you need me!” I call over the music and push outside, the air here colder than I remember it from moments ago.
Zombie girl leans against the exterior wall a few feet from me, her foot tapping against the pavement as the female officer leaves the group gathered by the cars and heads over.
The cop glances at me but pays no further attention as her stare narrows on zombie girl. “So, from your point of view, how did everything unfold?”
“That asshole wouldn’t let me or my friend get to the bar. He called Jared names, the homophobic prick.”
“He started the altercation with name calling. Then what?”
“We were going to walk away but then he grabbed my ass.” Her voice lowers but she tips her head up in defiance. “Underneath my skirt. That’s when my friend told him to keep his hands to himself.”
“Do you want to press charges?”
“I at least want it in the report. I don’t have the time or energy to take all the handsy fuckers in this city to court.”
“A little advice. Woman to woman.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t leave the house dressed like that to go drink at the bar. It’s not worth the attention.” The cop turns and struts away.
Wow. I shake my head and turn to zombie girl. “You okay?”
“No, I’m really not.” Her brow furrows and I try to get a look at where she took a hit to her head, but there’s too much makeup to tell if it’s swollen at all. Her eyes harden and her voice rises. “I can’t believe she said that to me.Don’t dress like a slut. That’s her advice? Jesus. That’s so fucked up.”
“I don’t know if she meant it like that exactly. Your head’s okay, though? You don’t want to go to the hospital and check it out?”
“I’m fine.” Her shoulders shove back and her chin lifts, those scowling, feisty eyes train on me. “Just so you know, I didn’t dress like this and come out of my apartment to look for a man.”
“I never said—”
“Real men ask before they put their hands on a woman. Always.”
“That’s not what I—” I start again but she throws up one hand.
“Save it. I don’t need a lecture from some meathead who works the door. You know, it’s men like you who only foster the normalization of rape culture in our male-dominated society.”
My brows rise with every insult she slings my way. I don’t know her story because we haven’t had a real conversation, but it grates on my ego that she’s gonna stand there and judge me after everything that went down tonight. She knowsnothingabout me or my life. The scoff leaves my lips along with my disbelief. “Oh, you’re one of those ...”
She pushes off the wall to take a step closer. Even with her ridiculously high heeled boots, the top of her head doesn’t reach my shoulder. She tilts her chin further to maintain her glare. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
