EIGHTY-SEVEN

52 2 11
                                    

Recap: Johny is with Nick, trying to solve the Jae-Elin case, and Elin has gone off by himself (horrible idea) right after he was told, about his dad.

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People were giving me weird looks in the club, but I couldn't care less. Thanks to the alcohol I was completely versatile.

"So what's with the blanket?" Simon asked while coming around the counter.

"Cold". I murmered. I set my head on the bar and lazily tapped my glass, shifting the ice. "I need more".

"Cold my ass". He scoffed. "It's like 70 in here. You sick or somethin?"

"Or something". I yawned. "Can I have my refill?"

"No".

I glared up at him through my fringe. "Why not?"

"Your drunk".

"So are they". I gestured to a group of college kids goofing off at a nook. "Your not cutting them off".

"They're not sulking under a blanket looking like the world just ended. Are they?"

I clicked my tongue. "You sound like Mandy".

His expression turned sour upon my mentioning her name. Obviously, he was still upset that she quit on him. But who wouldn't? Simon was annoying.

"Just one more". I promised, "Than I'll leave".

He held up a finger. "One more".

While Simon put together my Jack and coke I let my eyes shut, and my mind wander. Thankfully before I could think about the news Conn and Johny relayed today, Simon set my drink down with a thud! "Enjoy".

"I will". I hummed.

I could sense him glaring before he turned, and walked away to deal with another needy customer.

I raised the glass. "Cheers". Than I tipped it back. And the world got a hell of a lot blurrier. But at least I couldn't feel a damn thing.

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I think I might've blacked out. Last thing I remember was sitting at the bar, sipping on whiskey. Now, for some reason, I was lying on the floor; Simon standing over me, hands on his hips. "Come on. Get up. It's time to go".

"Tired". I sighed.

"I don't care what you are. It's time to go".

"Mmh".

His shoe nudged my side. "Come on, your ride should be here any minute".

"Don't have one". I murmered. I draped my arm over my face. "Just let me sleep".

"No".

"Why not?"

"Your scaring customers".

Groaning, loud as possible, I wrapped the blanket over my head and clambered to my feet. The room swayed, and Simon had to grab my arm before I tipped backwards. "Fuck Elin."

"I'm fine". I assured, flashing him a goofy smile. "See watch".

I shrugged him off than took a step forward. The room shifted and I ended up crashing into the bar, knocking over someone's drink.

Hissing, Simon pulled my arm over his shoulder and walked me across the club room. "Your drunk".

"Just drop me off there". I waved my hand at one of the couches. Frowning when he walked right past.

"Naha. Your leaving".

"Who'sa picking me up?"

"The hell if I know". He huffed.

"Conn?" I guessed.

"I didn't catch a name when I called".

After alot of huffing and cursing, Simon got me up the stairs.

"Why we going outside?" I wondered aloud when he pushed open the door.

"So your ride can pick you up".

I frowned. "What ride?"

Grumbling under his breath, Simon wrestled a slab of paper out of his pocket and tossed it at my chest. "There. I found the number in your pocket".

I narrowed my eyes at the digits, but they were swaying in and out of focus. "I can't read this shit".

"Listen," he sighed, "I have work. So I'm going to leave you right here. You think you can handle that?"

I scowled at him. "I'm not a baby".

"Couldn't tell with that blanket and all". He chuckled.

Clenching my jaw, I brought my fists up to my chin. "You wanna go?"

"Ah no". He patted me on the back than slipped back inside, shouting. "See ya around kid".

"Ain't a kid". I grumbled. Crossing my arms, I sat down on the street's curbside. My fingers absently dabbled with the slip of paper in my hands, while I rocked my head side to side. Humming a random song.

It could've been minutes, maybe hours before a car pulled up. The bright lights were like 100% blinding me so I had to slap my hands over my eyes and bend over.

A door slammed shut, followed by boots on cement, and then–

"Elin?"

I peeked out through my fingers.

The man standing before me sure as hell wasn't Conn.

Scrunching my face, I said, "Mr. Bail man?"

Why is he here?

How the hell did Simon even get his phone number? Wait–how did I get his phone number?

"What's going on?" I asked.

Mr. Bail man–or was it Mr. Ackerman?–cleared his throat. "I was hoping you could explain".

I tapped my chin, and stumbled to my feet, catching myself on the club building. "The asshole who owns this place–he called you?" I lifted the paper slab. "Did he get the number on this?"

Mr. Bail–Mr. Ackerman held out his hand and I put the paper in his palm. He examined it before nodding his head. "This is my number".

How in the hell did I get his number?

Maybe Gab gave it to me?

Or....oh that's right. Conn gave it to me. Right before I left McDonalds this morning. After he....

"Listen Elin..."Mr. Ackerman sighed, he scratched his head and avoided my gaze. "The other day–"

"No". The word slipped before I had a chance to conserve myself. "Oh..man". I breathed. My hands found their way into my hair as I took a few steps back. "This isn't happening. I'm drunk. I'm hallucinating!"

"Elin".

I was supposed to get rid of that piece of paper. Maybe burn it?

"Damn idiot". I hissed, slapping myself in the forehead. Why didn't I burn it?

I never wanted to find out who'd answer if I called.

I never wanted to deal with that.

But somehow, somehow he was here now.

My gaze flashed in Mr. Ackerman's direction. Something, keen to disbelief and nausea, rose in my throat.

This man, who bailed me out of jail, no less than a day ago, father to two boys, was once my mother's lover. And–

"I don't have a dad". I blurted before my brain could stop me. Than I ran.

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Finally! I have done it! Written the next chapter 😭😭 it's been forever.

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