Page 68 of Fallen
"Sure. Over there." He raised his hand and pointed behind me, then turned to scan the crowd.
Pivoting, I began pushing my way through the throng of people to the area of signs on the wall advertising assorted brands of beer and liquor.
So many bodies crammed into such a tiny space.
Sour alcohol and sweat-soaked bodies didn't make it my trek any nicer.
Finally, I broke through and miraculously found an empty stool. I plopped my butt down and rubbed my feet.
Even though I'd worn low heels, the shoes were tight and uncomfortable, not like my slip-ons.
I let out a small sigh of relief, then sat up and leaned my elbows on the bar counter.
"Anna!" Bridget poured something from a long bottle into a glass, then slid it to the customer. "I can't believe you made it. Didn't think I'd ever get you out of that place." She wiped her hands on a towel and grinned.
"Yeah. I'm not really supposed to leave—"
"Oh, stop it." She grabbed an empty glass tumbler, gave it a flip, and filled it with an inch of amber-colored liquid. "Ever since the wreck, you been dying slowly." With one eyebrow raised, she set the glass in front of me with athunk.
"You'rethe reason we wrecked in the first place." I'd forgiven her almost immediately. In all honesty, I'd just been happy she'd recovered and no one else had been hurt.
Her injuries had been worse than mine. Despite several vertebral fractures in her neck, she'd healed and with rehab, had been back on her feet in a matter of months. The doctors had said she should've been paralyzed, and it was a miracle she'd survived at all.
The only lasting visible damage had been the tracheostomy scar she'd gained, which she usually kept hidden under a bright scarf or thick choker.
Tonight, she sported a white choker decorated with black dog bones.
"You know what I learned from that mistake?"
"How to drive better?" I sniffed the drink.Fairly sure this is poison. It smells horrid.
"Ha. Ha." She put a finger against the glass and pushed it closer to my mouth. "Not funny." Propping a hip against the inside of the counter, she wiped the surface with the cloth she kept on her shoulder.
"This smells disgusting."
"Trust me. The more you drink, the better it tastes."
"If you say so." I took a sip and almost spit it back out. As I swallowed, it burned my throat and I coughed.
"Idosay so." She shook out the damp rag. "Now, what I learned from our little mishap is not only is life is short, but it's unforgiving. If something doesn't make me happy, I don't do it."
"Like driving?" The back of my throat burned hotter with the second sip.
"No. That just scares the fuck out of me. What I mean is—"
"Hey," hollered a man in a flannel shirt as he thumped his fist on the bar. "Need two Lites."
"Just hold your wad." Bridget nodded at the man, then looked at me. "What I'm trying to say, Anna, is you had plans to go to college, to paint and make something of yourself." She grabbed a couple cans of beer from the fridge behind her, then faced me again. "But instead, you hide yourself away from the world to become what. A nun? Seriously?"
Something about the way she scoffed at my choice needled at me. "The only difference between my choice and yours is selfishness. I chose my path to help others."
"Does it make you happy?" She tucked a piece of blue hair behind her ear.
It was a great question. To give myself time to think, I gulped the remainder of the poison in the glass.
Nothing makes me happy anymore.
The last time I'd been happy had been on that wonderful yet terrible day when Lucian had kissed me and healed my eyes.
