Page 29 of Bound by Vengeance
“You’ve been in love with him since you met him. Don’t tell me all that has gone away. Is this because of JK and what he did?”
I love my mother. I really, really do. But this is too close for comfort. I feel like fire ants are crawling all over my skin, biting me as they swarm, threatening to take me over. My mother is a force to be reckoned with and many won’t take her on.
Normally, I never would, either, but I need this to stop. I need it all to stop before those ants envelop me.
Looking her dead in the eye, I tell her, “Mom, I love you, but you need to let this go. Now.”
I feel as if she’s grabbing something inside me and pulling out the information she needs with her gaze. She is determined to figure out what is inside my head.
This time, I can’t look away. She should know this is serious, and keeping eye contact with my mother is the only way to show her. She respects it.
It takes her a bit before she nods and breaks her binding spell. “Gotcha.”
“Let’s shoot tequila!” Emery calls out, and I groan.
Me and tequila have been friends for many years. We have a love-hate relationship. It goes down smooth, gets me drunk, and makes me happy. Then it tears up my insides and spews out of my body later.
Just then, Ryker comes out of the clubhouse with a very pretty brunette wrapped around his waist. Bile threatens to escape.
Slapping the table, I cheer, “Tequila it is!”
Emery smiles, my mother looks at Ryker knowingly, and Angel just continues to be her quiet self. This is going to be an interesting night.
HALF THE BOTTLE IS GONE. Holding it up, I find there’s more to be consumed.
My body feels fine. Memories have disappeared. Ryker has disappeared. Everything is quiet in my head for the moment.
It’s a feeling I haven’t had in months and months.
Sure, there’s a shit-ton of noise around me, but as I lean on the bar, head resting on my elbow, a calm washes over me. This leads me to taking a couple more shots and Emery following me.
“Whaaadddaa doin’?” Emery is drunk. Big time.
I take a slug from the bottle, not feeling any bit of the burn anymore. It almost tastes like water, and that’s when you know you’ve drunk too much.
“Drinkinnnn’.”
She gives me the wide-eye look. The one that says duh, not what I’m asking. “With Ryyyyker.”
Not this again.
My mind swims, and it takes me a moment to think. Leave it to Emery to make me try to organize a complete thought on tequila.
“Nothinnnn’,” is the best I can come up with. Lame, but real.
“Whattttteverr. Don’t tell ya bestestttt frieeeend.”
A laugh escapes me. I say nothing, just watch my best friend turn fuzzy in my vision.
The bottle is wrenched from my hand.
“Hey!”
Ryker stands there with a glare to end all glares, shaking the bottle. “You’re done.” He hands the bottle over to the bartender, who puts it behind the bar so we can’t reach it.
I look at the bartender. “Party pooper.”
He just shrugs like he doesn’t give two shits.
