A masked Bartender and his drunk victim.
1305 Words
Dylan's p.o.v
"Found someone you'd like, Dylan."
I sighed, bringing my hand up to the bridge of my nose as I tried to massage the annoyance away.
I wanted to be left alone.
"Not interest." I turned my attention back to my phone, scrolling through the countless messages I had just recieved from the past hour from all the important people that I needed.
Things needed to remain as they were, and a new gang was trying to integrate themselves right beneath my nose.
And I was ready to discipline anyone trying to get to my level.
"That woman over there." Anthony said and before I could stop him, he grabbed my chin forcefully and forced me to face towards a woman who seemed to be laughing too loudly by the bar at whatever the bartender was saying to her. "She looked over at you earlier and didn't know who you were."
"Not interest." I said again and shoved his hand away before looking back down at my phone.
"She could be single."
"Not interested."
"Come-on, when was the last time you actually had the taste of a woman?" Anthony asked, purposefully getting into my face and snatched my phone from me, shoving it into his pocket. "I mean, even that p*****t liked what it saw. Chances are that he'll come back for a chance with her."
I clench my jaw at this but regardless of his words, I pay it no mind as I shift my gaze to the streets beyond the thin glass bordering the life of alcohol from the life of daily commute.
"Exactly!"
The woman's voice was so loud this time and she stood up, knocking the seat over as she pointed at the bartender who looked uncomfortable as he gave me a nervous smile.
More like apologizing for the noise.
"If you won't have her, the bartender might." Anthony shrugged as he smirked down at me. "She's curvy too."
His words weren't in the slightest going to change my mind. I didn't want to be involved with anyone. They wouldn't be able to handle it too.
"I'm practically homeless right now!" The woman screamed again, more of in anger right now, drawing Anthony's attention to her. "My husband, no, my ex husband cheated, took everything and now I have nothing! And with my close friend!?"
I looked over to her this time, unable to exclude myself from her outbursts as I gathered what little information I got from her frustrated yelling.
She was drunk, obviously, from the way her feet failed to balance on her heels and how she kept pointing furiously at the bartender was evidence of the alcohol running her system.
The second she had entered the bar she didn't look like the type to reveal all of her personal problems – and she didn't for the past hour she has been here until now.
Whether the bartender was purposefully trying to get her drunk or she kept pestering him to, she just wasn't talking out of free will but the will of alcohol.
"Well, that's that. A homeless divorcee." Anthony chuckled and straightened his back. "Anyway, let's get out of here. I'm hungry. Let's go home."
I looked up at him, irritated that he still comes to my place despite the fact that I had built him a place to stay, and yet he always found me, no matter how good I hid my location and built mansions hidden in the dense forest, he would find me.
"Mhm." I nodded, not wanting to have to explain to him to just leave me alone.
He gathered his things and held his girlfriend's hand, probably planning on bringing her with him as well.
Unlike most of the men who knows me and always let me walk in front of them, Anthony didn't care where he walked or how he walked. So I wasn't too surprised or irritated seeing him walk in front of me, leading the way to the counter where I needed to pay.
It's not like I love to exploit people who are trying to earn a living but getting what I want, so of course I was going to pay for the expensive wine.
"Go to the second cabin, I'll meet you there." I said as I handed Anthoney the keys to the cabin which he gladly snatched from my grasp and ran out with his girlfriend.
Hopefully they don't try to do anything in my room.
"How much was it?" I asked the bartender as I heard Anthony's bike roar to life before speeding off and fading in the distance.
The bartender had to peel himself from the woman who was now sobbing uncontrollably and leaned onto the table.
He handed me the receipt and stood there, waiting as I scanned the items listen.
Of course, Anthony ordered three expensive wines and probably snuck them out when I wasn't looking.
How childish.
"Warn me when he's over spending." I said as I handed the man the card to which he nodded to and smiled.
The bartender was never one to talk to me. Even though I hadn't hurt him before. He kept mostly to himself and never spoke a word to anyone I was involved with. Whether or not it was a survival tactic or not didn't bother me.
He knew what would happen if he were to upset me.
I do it all the time in this bar, and he just cleans it off without a word of complaint.
He had never reported me to anyone which was a smart move from him, otherwise they would let me know and I'd come knocking at his door.
"What a handsome man..."
I heard the woman's voice again and I looked down at her, not expecting it to be directed to me of course, but I was curious to check if she was talking about the bartender who didn't seem to match her age that well.
He wasn't old, but he wasn't young either.
"But you look like you could kill someone." She was mumbling to herself, though too loudly and I knew she was talking to me from how her lazy brown eyes stared back at me.
She was struggling to focus, trying to keep her gaze fixed on my face but she kept looking elsewhere before zoning back in. It was also how her eyes blinked so slowly that I thought she was going to black out.
"Are you leaving already?" She asked but I didn't know if she really wanted me to answer.
"Of course." I nodded and took back my card from the bartender who was done charging it.
"Can I come?" She asked and got up from the chair and onto her unstable knees. "Drop me off somewhere."
I looked at her for a moment and was about to refuse the offer when I glanced over at the bartender who was looking at her with the look of a disappointed man.
He wanted her to stay. Which only checked off the suspicions that he was getting her drunk on purpose.
A man with that intent to make someone drink until they couldn't think for themselves was probably not doing it with good intention.
Whether he was a man for s*x drive or with the intent to get satisfied from disposing of her – which I wouldn't doubt considering the things he sees and cleans up after– It's clear he had no good intentions, regardless of the reason.
"Let's go." I said to the woman and the second I said so the bartender gave me a look I hadn't seen on him before.
But he immediately replaced it with a smile the second he noticed I was still looking right at him.
He didn't have good intentions and now I'm certain.
- Writer
