“Whiskey, and whatever the hell she’s drinking,” Mr. Easton ordered, still not looking at me.
I wiped my face with a bar napkin. “What are you doing here?”
He moved to face me and grimaced.
Way to kick a girl when she’s down.
His jaw ticked when he lifted his hand toward my face and I flinched. The proper Mr. Easton rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“You have pieces of bar napkin stuck to your face.”
“Oh, sorry,” I mumbled.
Louie sat our drinks in front of us, eyeing Mr. Easton with distrust in his bright blue eyes. “Are you good, Rach?”
Mr. Easton huffed into his drink. “Of course, the bartender would know your name,” he spoke into his drink, setting it down and staring Louie dead in the eyes. “She’s fine. I’m her official babysitter until Jules can get to her. I promise she’ll be safe.”
“Says every serial killer before slaughtering their victim.”
Mr. Easton chuckled while Louie glared even harder.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yes, and now I’m going to be carefully watched by your little friend until you tell him you are safe and actually mean it.” Mr. Easton motioned with his hand toward Louie as if I was unable to comprehend who he was talking about.
“Am I safe?” I asked, feeling raw.
The alcohol rushed through me, but instead of it dulling the emotions like I wanted it to, it seemed to aggravate every nerve ending.
The shock of having Mr. Easton’s full attention on me had my breath rushing out of me.
“You’re safe, Trouble. I promise. Drink, go numb. I’ll drive you home when you’re ready, or when I deem it time for you to go, and I’ll wait for Jules.”
Louie knocked his knuckles on the bar, seeming satisfied with Mr. Easton’s declaration.
My hands shook when I pulled my drink to me and I missed the straw twice before Mr. Easton grasped it between his thick fingers and brought it to my lips.
“Why are you here?”
I watched the corner of his mouth quirk up before dissolving into his normal stoic self. “Jules had Cole call me. Jules was panicking that you were alone.”
“Why would Jules—” I stopped before finishing my sentence.
I smacked my forehead, or at least that was the action I was going for. I missed my forehead and almost toppled off the bar stool. Mr. Easton’s warm hand wrapped around my waist, keeping me glued to the seat.
With his other hand he moved my drink away from me and signaled Louie to bring me water. With a surge of defiance and not much finesse, I slid the drink toward me and sucked the rest of it down.
“Why did I think this was going to be an easy task? Cole fucking owes me.”
His words triggered my revelation. “So, our best friends, huh?”
“It appears so. Cole took her to Santa Barbara. Jules lost her phone. She wasn’t ignoring you. They just bought her another one after not being able to find it. She was worried, and from what I gathered feeling guilty.”
My forehead touched the sticky surface of the bar as more tears rushed out.
“Did you start a tab?” Mr. Easton asked gruffly.
I nodded, my head still pressed to the bar.