Chapter 166: You're Drunk

SANCIA

“Give it back,” I slurred, reaching for my third, or was it fourth, glass of whiskey.

“Here, this is your last drink of the night,” Bree said, eyes narrowed as she reluctantly slid the glass she’d been holding hostage to my front.

I sent her a grateful smile as I took the drink to my mouth and took a sip.

The bar we were in wasn’t far away from the school. We'd decided to grab a couple of drinks as usual when things get too hard for either of us, just to unwind and catch up.

The place is old but well-maintained, with polished wood and neon lights. Colored bottles catch stray lights and illuminate the shelves. Jazz music plays in the background.

My mental health hasn't been the same since Lorenzo, and I talked two days ago, not that it was the best to begin with.

But thinking about the betrayal, finding out about Papa's illness, and everything that happened was emotionally draining. I'd been acting strong, not wanting my feelings to drown me.

The truth is, Antonio's betrayal cut deep, and the knowledge that Isabella is even now with him, not knowing he killed our father, is devastating.

So, I just needed to dull all the pain and not think about anything else for just one night. Usually, it's Bree drinking while I try to talk her out of drinking too much; today, it's the opposite.

And yet despite drinking almost half a dozen glasses of whiskey, I still wasn't as drunk as I would have liked.

“Elena, I'm going to the bathroom. Are you going to be alright on your own? Or would you like to come with me?” Bree asked, with concern on her face.

I waved my hand. “Go, go, I'll be okay.”

She hesitated for a bit before she quickly walked away, towards the back.

The place was as safe as any bar around this time of night gets, not to mention I have my pepper spray and my taser.

So I can protect myself, or at least I can if I were out of here. I don't think I'm allowed to tase anyone just for talking to me, I thought as the asshole from earlier sneaked back to my left.

“Where's your friend, darling? Did she go and leave you? What do you say we get out of here and take you some place where I can buy you all the drinks you want, ” the creepy jerk said.

The very reason I was considering tasing someone. The bald guy who owns the voice had been hovering for the past ten minutes when we first came into the bar.

He'd been pestering me, and Bree and I had to threaten him with mutilation before he left us alone. He's the kind of man who doesn't hear the word no.

And if not for the fact that I didn't want to get into trouble with the cops, I would have tasered him into next week an hour ago.

I didn’t turn my head when I answered him. “I can buy myself my own drink, now fuck off.”

Baldy chuckled as if I’d flirted with him. He was in his mid-thirties, with broad shoulders and a pot belly that's been fighting his tight button-down shirt to kingdom come.

I went back to my drink, ignoring him, and yet he leaned closer anyway. His breath was rancid. “C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t drink alone.”

My jaw tightened. “I’m not alone,” I said flatly. “My friend is still here, so piss off.”

He reached out and brushed his fingers against my hands, instantly raising goosebumps, and it's not the good kind. It felt like roaches crawling up my neck, at least that's how I imagine it to feel.

I slowly turned my head; my eyes felt heavy, but I'm not that drunk as to tolerate this asshole just yet. “Take your hand off me.”

“Relax, baby.” He grinned, leaning closer, breath heavy with beer. “I’m just being friendly.”

I slap his hand away. “Go, be friendly somewhere else,” I snapped. “The next time you touch me, I'll break something over your bald head.”

The bastard didn’t move; instead, his dark eyes narrowed, he touched me again, and his fingers tightened slightly around my wrist.

“I see how it is, playing hard to get, huh?” He wrapped his arm over my shoulder. “I know bitches like you who like it rough.”

Anger sparked inside me so hot that I felt my face heat up. I slipped my hand into my purse.

“Last warning,” I gritted quietly. “Get your filthy hands off me.”

He leaned in until his mouth was near my ear. “Or what?”

I pulled the taser halfway out of my bag. The small device crackled faintly when my thumb brushed the trigger.

Instead of backing away, the clueless asshole smirked.

“Are you done playing hard to get, sweetheart? We can leave now so that I can get you that drink?”

Anger swells inside me, from Antonio's betrayal, from the grief of losing Papa, and from blaming Lorenzo. And from the frustration of wanting something I knew I shouldn't. And then the irritation of this asshole right now.

I was startled when his hand suddenly slid down to my waist. “Or we can go to the bathroom…”

I gritted my teeth hard and brought out the taser, but I was a split second too late, because the sound of bone cracking cut him off.

Baldy jerked violently away from me, his hand over his bleeding nose, before he could fully recover, Lorenzo grabbed his wrist and twisted sharply.

There was a sickening pop right before he screamed. The entire bar seemed to freeze. I blinked, my heart pounding in my ears as I dumbly stared at Diavolo.

He looks utterly furious, standing over Baldy, eyes dark with fury. As though breaking the man's hand wasn't enough, Lorenzo twisted the man’s arm further, forcing him to his knees.

“I believe,” Lorenzo growled, voice dangerously calm, “she told you to let go.”

The man tried to swing at him with his uninjured hand. Lorenzo wasn't fazed; he smirked, that familiar smirk right before he sent someone to hell.

“Enzo,” I called, not wanting him to kill because of me, especially not here.

He looks up just as his fist crashes into Baldy’s ugly mug, again and again, all while glaring at me. And I can't for the life of me remember why, brutally beating a man was suddenly wrong.

Heat curled low in my belly as he kept punching Baldy until the man crumpled to the floor, unconscious, before he finally stopped.

Voices cut through the silence as Stella, the bartender, suddenly appeared with the bouncers. My eyes widened, and I quickly stepped between the middle-aged woman and Lorenzo, as I thought she was going to ask them to drag Lorenzo out.

I would hate for something to happen to her; she's a kind woman and always looks out for us when we come here.

Fortunately, the bouncers drag the unconscious man out. Right as Bree tears through the crowd and stands beside me, wearily looking at Lorenzo.

“Elena, are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't think he would bug you, or I wouldn't have left you alone,” she said, guiltily.

I nodded. “I'm fine, and it's not your fault, Bree.”

She glanced at Diavolo and then looked back at me with concern, leaning in as she whispered. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Don't worry, this crazy one is mine,” I blurted, then realized how it sounded. “I mean, I..I know him.” I quickly added.

Bree laughed nervously, “I don't blame you, he's hot.” She glanced at him, blushing before sitting back on her chair as she watched Lorenzo and me.

I stared at Lorenzo like it was the first time I was seeing him, and swallowed. Bree was right, he's so dang hot.

I don't know if it was all the drinks I'd consumed or what, but instead of dissipating, the heat inside me intensified, spreading through me until my whole body felt hot.

My clit was literally pulsating, and my nipples beaded hard inside my bra.

Seeing Diavolo’s angry face, eyes dark with rage, and his knuckles bloody from hitting someone should be the last thing that turns me on.

But as I've finally accepted a long time ago, I am a freak just like him. I'm the product of my training.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, voice in total contrast to the heat inside, I slipped the taser back into my purse.

His gaze snapped to me. “You’re drunk.”

“Well, duh, genius,” I whispered, rolling my eyes. “That's what bars are for, getting drunk.”

Lorenzo sighed, then clamped his hand on my wrist firmly. “You’re coming with me, now.”

I yanked my arm back. “Like hell I am, let me go, I still haven't finished my drink.”

His jaw ticked. “You're done. Come with me right now, or I'm going to drag you the fuck out.”

“You can't do that, I'm just having a drink with my fri…”

And before I even had the chance to finish my sentence and tell him where to shove his orders, he was already picking me up like I weighed nothing and walking out of the bar.