The bartender shoves a toothpick in his mouth and rests his arms on the counter as I grab my wallet.
“You do know this isn’t a public bar, don’t ya?”
I stop what I’m doing to look around me. “What do you mean? It looks like a regular bar.”
“It is, just not for ordinary folks like you.”
My heart stops. “Oh … oh … my gosh. I’m so sorry. I thought …”
The toothpick shifts to the other side of his mouth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time someone’s stumbled across us accidentally.”
My shoulders fall. “I feel so silly. I’ll just finish this and be on my way.”
He nods slowly. “I suppose that would be okay, except I know you aren’t here by accident.”
“I am. I mean, this looks like a bar. Itisa bar,” I say a bit snippier than is probably safe at this point.
Two young guys sidle up on each side of me. My head bounces between the two of them. They’re twins.
“What do we have here?” one of them asks the bartender.
He pops the tops off of two beer bottles while explaining that I’m claiming to have found their bar by accident.
They both shrug, easily believing my charade.
“But she forgot that when she came in here, she asked if I knew Chase.”
“Who’s Chase?” the other twin questions.
The bartender shakes his head while the first brother reaches behind me to smack him in the back of the head. “Prez, you dumbass.”
He rubs his hand over his hair. “Fuck. How was I supposed to know that?”
“Right?” I agree before slamming the rest of my drink. “Well, that was refreshing. I’ll just be on my way.”
I keep my eyes focused on the door as I hurry outside.
When I get back in my car, I let my head fall against the seat. I can’t take this kind of stress. I just can’t do this.
I pull the prescription bottle from my purse and begin shoving pills one at a time into my mouth.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and a firm hand wraps around my arm, pulling me out of the vehicle. The bottle falls from my fingers, and pills scatter everywhere.
“Count them,” Chase barks at the other men.
He shoves me to my knees, falling to his beside me. He grabs my face roughly in one of his hands, forcing me to open my mouth and release the pills.
His big finger sweeps my cheeks as I try to push away from him. “Stop,” I mumble.
That’s all I get out before two of his fingers are shoved directly down my throat. Instantly, I gag. He holds my hair in his fist asI throw up in the gravel lot. The Diet Coke burns as it comes up, bringing with it two of the white pills I had managed to swallow.
“There’s twenty-eight here, Prez. We’re only missing two.”
Rage doesn’t seem to care that all the pills are accounted for because he shoves his fingers down my throat a second time. I heave again, this time bringing up nothing but bile.
He wipes my spit from his hand against his jeans while keeping his fist around my hair. His gaze bounces over my face, and I’m not going to lie. It’s terrifying.
“Give me the bottle,” he orders whoever is behind us.