Page 25 of Kane

I’m not fine.

I’m tired of being alone, of putting myself out there and getting my damn heart broken, even if I know it’s going to happen. Just once, I want to be wrong.

I don’t know how long I stay on the snowy, cold bench, but when I think I’m in danger of frostbite, I get up and make my way back home. Despite the weather, there are a few places still open along the way. I tell myself I’m just going in to get warmed up. One drink and then I’ll head back home and apologize to Claire and Tori. I’ll go to the speed dating thing and be miserable as I pretend to be someone I’m not to try and find someone who will never understand or appreciate me the way I need them to.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks.

“Whiskey, double,” I say without thinking.

I watch as he pours my drink, the amber liquid glittering from the low incandescent lights above us. I check out the bartender—his backwards hat, his bulging biceps, his chunky diamond earring, and the way he chews the toothpick in his mouth.

He slides me my drink and I glance at his fingers. Bare, tan.

“No tattoos?” I ask, taking a sip of my whiskey. It burns down my throat, but it’s a welcome burn. One that feels better than it should.

The bartender shakes his head. “Nah. Not much for needles, man.”

I let out a chuckle as I think about someone else’s fingers, someone else’s tattoos.

“Blank canvas, huh?” I say, taking another long pull of my drink. Too long.

I set the glass back down on the counter, reveling in the sting the whiskey leaves in my throat; the way it warms my entire body from the inside out, and I let out a low breath.

The bartender chuckles before he heads down the bar to grab someone else’s order, and I slowly bring out my phone and unlock it.

I swipe to the left, knowing precisely what I’m looking for.

Tori wasn’t completely off base with her comment; though, I don’t think she knows how close to the truth she was. And that alone is unsettling in a way it shouldn’t be.

I stare at the black and red button, the red cursive K that’s brighter beneath the lights of the bar. Calling to me like a siren.

“Another?” The other bartender—a woman with thick eyelashes and pouty lips asks, angling herself and her boobs towards me.

I nod, breaking her gaze and tap the button. The screen goes black; little red numbers circling to tell me the app’s updating, and I wait.

A moment later, my profile page loads, andI feel a sense of relief as the bartender fills up my glass, and my phone dings; the red dot alerting me that I’ve got a message already.

I swallow hard.

That didn’t take long.

I pull up my inbox to see the message from some guy with the username C0ckDaddy4EverX.

All it is, is two words.

Wanna play?

I look up, and that’s when I see him. At the other end of the bar, raising his glass and smirking at me.

I feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I have to fight them because that raised glass is sharper than any knife.

I grab my whiskey, shoot it, and toss a few twenties on the counter before I make my way over to him, knowing precisely how this ends, and that’s a good enough reason for me to say, “Yes, Sir.”

Because at least for tonight, I won’t be alone.

Chapter Nine

Ryder