Page 16 of Anger

“Not for that. Although my eyesight does get pretty shitty the higher the amount. Hell, if it gets high enough, I’m practically blind and have no idea who went inside.”

So that’s the name of this game.

I pull out another two hundred.

“My eyes are getting fuzzy, but I can still see who’s walking in and out of this club.”

I pull out two more.

“Ah, damn. There goes that weird blindness again.”

He snatches the bills from my hand.

“Enjoy your stay. Try to keep your hands to yourself this time. I’d hate to have to remind you I can take your ass out.”

“I let you win,” I snap back before shoving through the entry door to stalk inside.

The second the loud music thumps against my ears, I know I’m in the right place. Especially given my mood.

I don’t want to feel anything.

Think about anything.

Nothing.

I just want to be numb. Maybe dance with a few cuties and hopefully shove the memories and feelings that are still assaulting my mind back in the locked box I’d let them slip out of.

None of it should own real estate in my head.

Not Red.

Not my dad.

Not those fucking weekends that are nightmares attacking me when I sleep.

None of it.

Ignoring the first floor that’s reserved for the socialite crowd who wants to be part of the scene but are too clean cut and snobby for what Myth is really about, I climb the stairs to the second floor.

The music changes when I reach the top, the quick, high-energy beat of electronic dance music transitioning into something a touch darker and more seductive.

Giving the space in front of me a quick glance, I turn right toward the bar, my palm slapping against the wooden surface to get the bartender’s attention. He looks over at me, cocks a brow, and after I assume is a moment of indecision from having witnessed the previous fight, saunters over to stand in front of me.

“I’m surprised they let you back in.”

Nodding my head, I chuckle. “Yeah, I think security had a problem seeing me when I passed him.”

The bartender laughs.

“Hate when that happens. What can I get you?”

“Just a beer. Nothing too crazy.”

It takes him a few seconds to snatch one up from the cooler, pop the cap and place it on the bar.

“That’ll be ten.”

I give him a twenty and tell him to keep the change.

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