Page 54 of Forget Me Not

Teeth grinding and chest heaving,my palms slam to the table, rattling the glasses filled with cola and ice. “Do we have a problem over here, boys?”

Three pairs of eyes shoot to me. One scoffs, the other laughs, because that's what he likes to do apparently. And the third, well, he just stares down with trembling hands gripping the page of a menu.

“Dude,” says the one wearing a high school football jacket, “do we know you?”

“Not yet. But you’re about to.”

“Get lost,” his loudmouth friend sneers as he reaches for his drink.

I intercept it, snatching the glass up and squeezing it in my hard so hard, I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered yet. My knuckles turn white and the veins in my arms bulge. “I see we’ve got some comedians over here. You think it’s fun to humiliate girls? Make them upset? Make them cry?”

“It was pretty fucking funny to us,” the one in the jacket says, shrugging as if he didn’t just hurt the one person on this planet I would kill for.

I slam the glass down on the table, the liquid sloshing over the top. My fingers like claws, I grab the asshole by the throat, cutting off his air supply.

I’m well aware that I’m drawing the attention of the other guests, but I do not fucking care. My goal is to make them see me, admire me. Well, they should admire me for taking out the trash for free. “When she comes out of the bathroom—if she comes out—you’re gonna apologize to her. Then, you’re gonna get the fuck out of this tavern and never step foot in it again. Do I make myself clear?”

Suddenly, it’s not so funny to him anymore as he nods what little I allow him to under my grip. His Adam's apple bobs against my fingers as he gulps.

The others just sit there, knowing it would be a bad move to try and defend their friend’s honor.

I give his head a swift shove and drop my hold on him. “If I ever see any of you three assholes speak to that girl again,” I lean close, my voice a whisper, “I’ll slit all your goddamn throats.”

Three pair of eyes widen in shock, and I’m certain the threat has dissolved. But when I turn to walk away and I hear the chuckle of laughter coming from the one I had in a chokehold, I’m even more certain that he hasn’t learned his lesson. He will, though. In due time, he’ll pay for hurting my girl.

My adrenaline is pumping fiercely as I walk to the bathrooms. An elderly couple flinches as I pass by them, but I force a smile on my face, trying to alleviate the intense situation. “Good afternoon,” I say with a gentle nod.

They don’t respond. Not that I expected them to. I’ll have to work to earn back the favor of the people currently in here.

Bypassing the men’s restroom, I go straight for the ladies’. Fist balled, I knock on the door. When it doesn’t open, and no one responds, I crack it open.

“Rhea, I’m coming in.”

“Go away!” she sniffles, and it’s a sound that breaks my heart. She’s in pain. Rightfully so. Those guys were complete assholes to her.

Ignoring the desperation in her voice telling me to leave, I push the door open farther and step inside. It’s a shared bathroom with three stalls, but the main door has a lock, so I click it to give us some privacy.

Crouching over, I find her in the middle stall sitting on the floor with her legs bent. I drop down with my back to the door. “You okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned for her mental state.

“Like you care. Just go, Alaric!”

“I care more than you will ever know. If I could absorb all the pain they made you feel, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I know you more than I know myself, Rhea. I’ve watched you and waited for you. And the first time you saw me, I knew it was all worth it. I saw the look in your eyes that first day. You were as mesmerized by me as I was by you.”

“Yeah,” she grunts. “Until you showed me your true colors.”

“But aren’t we all an assortment of colors and moods and personalities? Wouldn’t it be boring if we were only one shade?”

The next thing I know, the stall door is being pulled open and I’m toppling backward into Rhea’s legs. She pushes me with her shoe, trying to get me away from her. “Move, nutcase!” She steps around me and leaves the stall. “I can’t believe you came in here. You really are a psycho.”

I push myself off the floor and onto my feet, then stand behind her as she washes her hands. Looking down, I see the spot of blood. I begin unbuttoning my shirt, watching her reflection in the mirror.

“What are you doing?” she asks skeptically while her eyes stay fixated on me.

I don’t respond. Instead, I finish undoing the last button and slide my arms out, leaving me in only a white tee shirt.

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