Page 16 of Forget Me Not

“I’ll cut your dick off if you talk to me like that again.” Taryn points a stern finger at the door. “Get your ass outta here.”

My eyes widen in surprise as I watch the situation unfold. When James just stands there, swaying back and forth with a scowl on his face, Taryn grabs him by the arm and drags him across the room.

“Out!” she shouts, shoving him toward the now open door. She gives him a push and before anyone can blink, he stumbles onto the sidewalk. “And if I catch you back in here tonight, I will call Sheriff Guthrie.” Her attention turns to Stephanie, one of the waitstaff. “Call his brother and make sure he gets home safe.” Stephanie nods in response before disappearing behind the bar.

Taryn’s gaze catches mine and she shrugs her shoulders as she shouts across the room, “You sure you’re ready for this?”

I bite back a smile, not willing to let her see how ready I really am. This town has been boring as fuck, until now. I need some excitement, and this might be the only place I get it.

Making my way to the bar, I offer up a fewhis andhellos to the friendly customers who acknowledge me. I feel like an alien dropped in the middle of nowhere. Everyone watches me as if I’m about to perform some out-of-this-world-trick or something. It’s an unsettling feeling, especially considering I’m not a fan of attention.

I make myself a drink, consisting of vodka and Red Bull, because God knows I need it, then I find a seat at the end of the bar. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve drank, so it’s not going to take much to lighten me up. Living a life on the run requires a clear head. I never knew when I was going to have to flee. The fear of slipping up and making a mistake while under the influence wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. But my life is different now. I’m allowed to enjoy these small pleasantries for the first time.

As I sip on this drink and my worries slowly dissipate, I’m more certain than ever that I’m going to shine in this town. A few minutes later, the effects begin taking hold of me. The tension begins to leave my body, and for once in my life, I relax a little, allowing myself to engage in an enlightening conversation with a kind gentleman sitting by me.

“It must’ve been hard moving away from your family like that,” my new friend, Benny, says as he waves a hand in the air, calling the bartender over.

“It was. But I talk to my mom and dad, like every day.” It feels good to make up stories sometimes. Almost as if I’m really living in them. It’s probably not the best thing for my mental state, but it’s better than reliving and sharing the true events of my past.

“Ready for another?” the bartender asks. I’m surprised to see the new face behind the bar. He’s a younger guy I’ve never seen before. Light brown hair with a clean shave on the sides and some shag on the top that’s flipped over to the right. He’s got hazel eyes and when they land on mine, butterflies flutter through my stomach. He’s fucking hot.

“Make it a double,” Benny tells him.

“You got it, Mayor Dean.”

I gulp when I hear that the guy I’ve been talking to is the town mayor. Suddenly, the air around me feels restricted. My lungs struggle to inflate and my head feels dizzy.

“Oh, come on, Tyler. You know it’s Benny in here.”

Tyler chuckles, but the sound slips through my ears as nothing but static noise.

I find myself sliding off the stool, dazed and confused. I don’t fully know what’s happening, I just know I need to put space between me and this man. It’s the drink, it has to be. I’m okay. It’s just the drink.

I’m suffocating. My chest feels tight. My vision is blurry.

Am I breathing?

I am. I’m okay.

“You okay, Rhea?” Benny asks as he places a hand on my arm. I jerk it away quickly, my muscles tightening as my defenses kick in.

The next thing I know, I’m making a beeline for the girls’ bathroom. Paying no attention to the elderly ladies who wreak of high-end perfume, I curl over the porcelain sink, staring into the open drain in an attempt to center myself.

Your past is not your future, Rhea. One bad mayor doesn’t make them all bad. You’re okay!

It helps to give myself little pep talks. It’s the only way I’ve learned to calm my racing thoughts. It’s not like I have anyone else to talk me off the ledge. I’ve only got myself, and that’s enough. I’ve got this. I always do.

“Seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” I hear one of the ladies whisper to another.

“She’s practically a child,” the other says. “The kids in this town sure do need to find some hobbies.”

I turn my head, eyeing them both with a heavy scowl on my face, though they don’t see me looking. The eldest one is running a comb through her poofy white hair while another is dragging red lipstick across her bottom lip. I don’t say anything because I’ve learned it’s a waste of breath to educate nonsense. I have other ways of voicing how I feel.

Once the ladies finish up, I follow them out of the restroom and to the bar. The one who looks like she’s got a polar bear sitting on top of her head takes a seat at the bar and her friend joins her.

Forgoing the stool I was on, I join the ladies.

“Mind if I sit here?” I ask politely.

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