Page 33 of Torment

“We’ve got whiskey.”

Scarlet froze. “What kind?”

“The best.”

She slowly turned around. “Which is?”

“Jack Daniel’s, of course.”

Dammit.That was exactly what she needed.

“Urgh, I’m so easy.”

“Who can resist Jack?” He smiled.

“Apparently, not me.”

“Come on, the bar is this way.”

“You have a bar?”Why was someone only telling her this now?

She followed him down the hall, and just below the stairs there was a door leading to a—what do you know?—fully stocked bar.

Scarlet stared at the room that looked almost exactly like a biker bar. The bar counter was right across from the room, with a clear-door fridge stocked with alcohol. A jukebox stood to the left of the bar, and some neon lights hung on the walls alongside signed posters of baseball teams and football players. It even had that real onion ring and pretzel smell to it as well.

“Wow. You have quite the man cave here, Riggs.”

“Yeah, well. With about twenty-odd men living together, we sure as hell need one.” He stepped behind the bar, grabbed the bottle of Jack and two glasses. “And please, call me Colton.”

“I dunno, Riggs has kinda grown on me.” She smiled when he handed her the tumbler filled with manna from heaven. Scarlet took a sip and moaned in appreciation as the alcohol flowed down her throat, giving her that familiar sting as it settled in her stomach.

“God, how I’ve missed Jack.”

Riggs—Colton—shook his head and placed his glass down on the bar. “I guess I should have brought you here earlier.”

“Damn right. You lost a few points,Colton.Boo-hoo for you.”

He held up the bottle of Jack. “I’ll make sure to take this wherever I go, then…you know, to make sure I keep my point score up. Besides, it’s what,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “just after eleven in the morning. Your dad will probably kick my ass for giving you alcohol this early. Surely that fact alone should score me a shit load of points right there.”

Scarlet liked this guy already. “It sure does. Cheers, Colton Riggs.” She shot down the last bit of whiskey in her glass and placed it back in front of him. “Fill me up.”

He cocked a dark brow at her.

“Hey.” She pushed the glass another inch closer to him. “Do you want more points or not?”

He poured her another round.

“Good boy.”

After handing her a full glass, he took a gulp of his own. “Good workout?” He gestured toward her bruised hands.

“Oh. I guess you could say that.”

He took a seat on the barstool and placed his elbows on the table. “Did it help?”

The way he stared at her made her think he knew exactly what happened.

“Maybe,” she answered hesitantly, and tried to turn the spotlight on him. “What did you say to Hunter after your fight outside yesterday?”

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