Chapter 5

I wasn't stupid. I had an average that this was a lot of money and it should be more than enough to get me pissed. Thanks to my high alcohol tolerance, getting wasted is expensive. Still, I was relatively certain that it would be more than enough and if that dumbass is late, I can use it to rent a room somewhere for the night.

My steps had purpose as I stalked towards the bar I passed earlier. It seemed pretty high end so I was lucky to be dressed in acceptable clothing. Acceptable because while they were of the best quality and style, they were not in their original condition after my little nap on the floor of that alley. I don't know how I ended up with the clothing I had on prior to running but I was in no way complaining.

The bouncer gave me a once over, the unasked question lingering in his eyes. He stepped aside, almost reluctantly but I was in no mood for a confrontation. Making my way to the bar, I ordered 2 Whiskey neat, downing them the moment they were set in front of me. I order 2 more receiving a curious look from the bartender.

"Rough day huh?"

I chuckled humorlessly, "best understatement of the century."

Probably getting the gist that I wanted to be left alone, he didn't comment on that, instead filling up one of the glasses and removing the other.

"Maybe just use one, yeah?"

Who the hell is this fucker telling what to do? I gulped the 5th one, the burn soothing my throat in preparation of the string of expletives that I was definitely planning to hurl at him. If my damn mouth would cooperate that is. I wanted to speak but I couldn't think clearly. It was then that I started noticing that my vision was blurry.

What the fuck is happening. I tried moving to help clear the fog but everything was hazy. Was I drugged? Shit. I should've been paying more attention to my surroundings. But why does it feel different, almost like the pleasant ache that comes with being drunk. Except I couldn't be. I only had 5 glasses so the only thing is drugs. Liam better get his ass here quickly, I don't know how much longer my little bit of coherence will last. I fumbled in my pocket for the wad of cash that I separated from the set I collected earlier. I went to slam it on the counter and leave when someone grabbed my hands, preventing me from dropping the money. I shrugged it off but it didn't move, most likely due to my efforts being basically nonexistent because of the drugs in my system.

I heard a voice ask the bartender what the tab was and I felt the money move out of my hands. Someone's trying to steal it. I pushed at the body next to me, this time with a bit of effort. I hate thieves and I was going to make this one pay. I succeeded in moving, just not the way I expected to. I stumbled but someone's hand immediately steadied me and I felt something put into my pockets. It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out that the voice was coming from the person next to me and an even longer time to realize that it was talking to me.

The place was very hot and I needed to use the washroom. I somehow articulated the word washroom after regaining a decent amount of my balance and saw the hand point in a direction. I was a bit more coherent since the need for the washroom overpowered the alcohol and it must've shown because he didn't follow me.