Page 109 of Retribution

I stare at his hand for a while before he retrieves it and cringes slightly. He looks around at the other guys and takes a swig from his beer bottle nervously.

“I’m not really in the mood for introductory small talk.” I state, the conversation boring me to the back teeth.

“Ah I get that, we thought you looked like you could use some company,” the chirpy blonde continues, he reminds me of Harry in some ways.

“The name’s Devon.” A deep voice speaks and I notice it’s from the guy in the suit, his jet black hair suiting his name.

I nod and take another drink from my glass, flicking my ash into the tray in the middle of the table.

“And you?” I beckon my glass towards the brunette in the button down, he may as well introduce himself seeing as the others beat down my barriers.

“Oh, I’m Blake,” he confesses, startled.

Nodding, I take another drink.

“I’m Reed.” I speak into my glass, finishing the last of my cigarette.

The dark haired one sits without a drink, a scowl across his shadowy features. Everett sips at his drink, eyeing the other boys as the silence between us grows.

“So, Reed. What brings you to Billy’s?” Everett asks.

“Do you normally pry into everyone’s lives?” I chew on some ice.

He looks taken aback by my tone as the one in the suit speaks up, “Look, he’s just trying to be nice. There’s no need to be a dick about it.”

I look at him and he oddly looks like he’d be me in another life. Even his tone is awfully similar to mine.

I call over the bar lady and she struts over, swinging her hips in her, too tight, jean shorts.

“Can we have three more glasses, please?” I gesture to the open bottle of whiskey in the on the table.

“Make it two glasses and a diet coke please, Sarah.” He offers a wink at her and she giggles, eating it up. I roll my eyes.

“Not a drinker?” I hold up my glass.

“Ex-drinker,” he says and reaches into his pocket, retrieving a green ten-month chip and flicking it between his fingers.

I tip my chin respectfully and peer down into my glass, the reminder of my failed sobriety, sits half-full.

Blake taps Devon on the back and takes another swig of his bottle. Oddly, I’m not getting any negative energy from these guys. I mean fine, Everett is a little loud for my liking, but other than that they seem decent.

“So, what’s got your knickers in a twist? Or are you always like this?” Blake asks, relaxing back against the chair.

I let out a heavy sigh and knock back the remainder of the glass, the burn allowing me to actually speak about it.

“Lost custody of my daughter today.”

Willow’s face fills my mind and my stomach wrenches, pulling at me. I quickly pour more whiskey into my glass and drink again as Devon eyes me suspiciously.

“Damn, that’s gotta be hard man.” Everett says, the thickness of his accent rolling off his tongue.

I shrug, and drink.

“Sorry about your daughter.” Blake offers his condolences and I wave him off, not wanting to dwell on the topic for any longer.

I’ve got an entire lifetime to think about it.

“What about you?” I don’t direct my question at anyone in particular.

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