"You sure you just need one painkiller and not a visit to a good hospital or clinic?" A kind gentleman asked me when he saw me in the restroom of the club. My eyes looked at the short man. He looked....... dangerous. With tattooes all over his body. But his voice was gentle. Like he was speaking to a child.
"Just a painkiller, Sir. Do you by any chance have one?" I asked him and he pressed his lips but nodded his head, removing his damn wallet before handing me a pill.
Who the hell carries painkiller with them in a wallet? Was it to drug me? But I don't even look rich. 'But you are the rich father's son.' My subconcious mind reminded me brutally and I looked at him with a tensed smile.
"Take it, boy. I don't have days to spend here. I need to drink too. I didn't pay to babysit you in
