Page 18 of Sweet Surrender
With the few hundred dollars still in my account, I paid for a shittyroom in a shitty motel where every night, I went to bed fearing that someone would break down the door and murder me. I stayed there for a few weeks while I searched for a job, eventually landing the waitressing gig at Bean and Gone.
It was thanks to Michelle that I managed to find the crappy apartmentwhich I moved into a week after starting at the diner. Her cousin’s, husband’s, friend was the landlord, and agreed to rent the apartment to me without paying a deposit on the basis that if I trashed the place, Michelle would cover the damages.
Obviously, I wasn’t going to wreck the joint, and Michelle had kindlyagreed to the deal. But there was no way she was going to be able to help me out of the latest mess, not that I had any intention of asking her.
Sighing heavily, I pushed the offending letter away and went to mykitchen. At the back of the freezer was a bottle of vodka, a‘welcome to the complex’gift left by the landlord. I’d suspected he’d given it to me in hopes I’d drink it, and fall into bed with him, but sadly for him, it went straight into my freezer, opting to keep it for a rainy day.
And right now, it was fucking pouring.
Forgoing a glass, I unscrewed the cap and gulped down a mouthful,wincing as the liquid burned my throat. I knew I needed to find a job stat, but for one night, I was going to let myself have a pity party. I was fed up with the uphill battle I was constantly facing. It was exhausting.
Tomorrow was a new day, and I could start again, but tonight, I wasgoing to try and find some answers at the bottom of the vodka bottle.
When a quarter of the bottle was gone, and a pleasant buzz wasworking its way through my body, I was feeling reckless.
And bored.
Bored of drinking alone. Bored of staring at the same four walls.Bored of being responsible for a fucking problem that wasn’t my problem to begin with.
Liam had been on my mind all evening. Part of me missed himdesperately, part of me wanted to ring his neck. Craving a reminder of him, I fished out my purse from my bag and pulled out the photo of us that I had carried with me since we’d had it taken at our junior prom.
As I pulled it out though, the $100 bill that Nash Carson had tippedme the day before fell out, fluttering down and landing on the table next to the cursed letter.
A mischievous smile broke out on my face as my eyes landed on thenote. It was stupid to spend theonlymoney I had by drowning my sorrows, but fuck it. It wasn’t like a $100 was going to get me out of the shit.
Stumbling to my bedroom, I threw on a pair of jeans, an off-the-shoulderblack jumper I made years ago, and some ankle boots. I fluffed up my hair, thankful that I had washed it earlier over the sink, and applied a light layer of lip gloss from an almost empty tube.
Taking one last look at the letter sitting on the coffee table, a scowlpulled on my face, and it was all I needed to give me the last push out the door.
Grabbing the $100 bill and wrapping my coat around me, I left myapartment, determined to get wasted, and forget all about my shitty life for one night.
Bar Horizon was the first place I came across as I reached theoutskirts of town. It was a swanky wine bar, and one I’d never set foot in before.
It seemed as good as any bar to start my night of drinking.
Pushing the door open, a few people turned in my direction butdismissed me when they realized I was neither a regular nor a date they were waiting for.
Making my way to the bar to an empty stool, I plonked my ass downand smiled at the handsome bartender while rubbing my hands together to get warmth in them.
“What can I get you?” he asked, giving me a sultry smile. His gazedropped to my breasts as I unbuttoned my coat, and I knew my nipples were hard, thanks to the bitterly cold weather outside.
“Old Fashioned please,” I said, picking out the first cocktail on themenu in front of me, fully intending to make my way through as many of them.
Or at least, as many as $100 could get me.
“Sav?” A familiar voice drawled from next to me.
“Trent,” I replied, surprise in my tone. A smile tugged at my lips atthe realization that I wouldn’t be drinking on my own. The smile vanished though when I took in the state of his face.
Ugly purple bruises lay under his eyes. His nose was swollen with anasty scab straight down the middle of it, and his lip was split. “What happened to you?”
Trent’s body stiffened, and a darkness I’d never seen before flashedin his eyes before he quickly composed himself. “I had a run in with a wall. What are you doing here?”
“Drink.” I held up the Old Fashioned the bartender placed in frontof me, and taking a sip, I relished at the heat of the whiskey.
“I should go,” Trent said, shocking the shit out of me.
“Erm, okay?” I replied, confused. Not blowing my own horn, but Trenthad been pestering me for months to go out for a drink, and now, here I was, but he wanted to leave? Yeah, color me confused.
