“Seven fifty.”
His watery, bloodshot eye stared at me. It took a second, but he realized I wasn’t screwing around, and his face scrunched up.
“b***h, give me the drink.”
“Seven fifty.” My hip c****d out as I raised my chin to hold my own.
He reached for it again, but I moved it further away. He didn’t have the skull patch Morgan mentioned, and I wasn’t going to give it to him for free. The guy leaned forward, grabbed my arm hard, and pulled me close to his face. I had to choke back the smell of blood and sweat.
“Listen, you little cuntface. You want to know what it feels like to get a fist to the—” One moment he was threating, and the next his head was slammed onto the bar top by a very battered hand.
I jumped back to see a massive man with his nose just inches from the asshole’s fac
