Page 144 of Wild Thing

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“Well, gee thanks, Dad.” I snapped, sarcastically.

He ignored my tone, his eyes drawn to the empty shot glasses in front of me.

“What are you doing getting drunk alone, anyway?”

“Avoiding people like you.” I said flatly, not even bothering to look at him.

Steven chuckled, the sound low and mocking. “You can be a real bitch, you know that?”

“You love it.”

He raked his dirty eyes over me. “You’ve got no idea.”

Before I could retort, a different bartender, this one older, and with a no-nonsense attitude, approached us. “Drinks?” he asked.

Steven ordered a whisky neat, and I waved a hand lazily. “Another tequila.”

As the bartender moved off, Steven leaned an elbow on the counter.

“Are you finally going to have a drink with me?”

I snorted. “This isn’t me having a drink with you. This is you crashing my party.”

“Fucking bleak party."

“Eat shit, Steven.”

He chuckled again. “Does this depression have something to do with Brax?”

My spine stiffened. I might have been drunk, but I wasn’t stupid. There was no way I’d hand over the truth to the man I despised most in the world.

“I’m not depressed, asshole." I snatched the shot glass and slammed it back.

“Okay. Sure,” he said with a smirk, clearly unconvinced. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Well,” he said, swirling his whisky casually. “Do you want me to keep you company?”

I shrugged. I didn't give a fuck. “I don’t really care, as long as the tequila keeps coming.”

As if I hadn’t already made enough terrible choices, this one would turn out to be the worst.

Thirty-Nine

DYLAN

My room key, where was it?

Standing at the door to my hotel room, I fumbled around my stupidly small clutch for my roomkey.

Steven was swaying next to me. I had let him keep me company downstairs, mainly in the hopes that Brax would see me in the bar on the way back to his room. I wanted to make Brax jealous like the petty bitch I was.

“Steven, you don’t need to hang around," I slurred. "Just go back to your room. I am fine.”

I continued searching for my roomkey. It had to be somewhere in this tiny little black leather prison.

Drunk and sad off my tits, I squatted down and emptied the contents of my bag onto the hallway floor. I scattered it all across the patterned hotel carpet. I picked up my card holder, lipgloss, powder until finally, I found it stuck to the back of my phone.