Trace

Chapter 54

"Another," I bark at the plump lady in front of me, who has dark hair as short as a man's.

A few moments later I am handed another glass, and by the deep tone of her voice when she says, "Here", I tilt my head curiously to see if she actually is a dude.

My neck rolls back, not being able to support my intoxicated brain, and I quickly grab ahold of the cracked wooden counter, spitting a profanity or two, to prevent me tumbling from the stool.

After somewhat collecting myself back onto the black stool, I conclude that the bartender is indeed a female, after her tits rule out anything else.

"Harry," I hear a chirpy voice behind me, yet hooded with drunkenness.

I turn around, taking a gulp of my fifth drink.

I see that Gretchynn is leaning in to a much older man that is slightly balding and has a goatee.

"Fuck," I mumble, when he drunkenly smirks after pinching her ass.

"Oh," Gretchynn giggles.

"C'mon, Gretch," I say, motioning with my hand.

I am able to pull together some sense, no matter how shit-faced I am at the moment.

"Whyyyy," she whines, and the creep holds her tighter.

"This fucking prick is old enough to be your father," I snap, as if he isn't in the room- nonetheless standing directly in front of me.

"Whutchyou gotta probl'm 'bout," the old guy slurs, anger lined in his words.

No matter how much I may despise Gretchynn, she doesn't deserve to be treated with disrespect or have hurt come her way- no lady does.

I push away the added remark in my mind that she is, however, a tramp.

"Let's go," I repeat deeply, taking my jacket from the stool.

"You her daddy?" the guy takes a step forward, slightly shoving Gretchynn behind him.

I don't even flinch nor cower back when I notice the obvious size difference between us. This douche is taller and larger than I.

I quickly steal a glance around the bar to see if there's anyone who isn't drunk to fight this creep off.

"Come on, tough boy," he slurs with a smile, as he rolls up his filthy sleeves and I toss my jacket back onto the counter.

"Oh, no. I never wanted a fight," Gretchynn steps from behind him with fear wide in her eyes.

"Thank you," I sigh exhaustedly, retrieving my jacket once again.

However, before I can pick it up, he shoves me backward, knocking me into the counter. I hear mugs collapse, but I don't turn around.

"Harry!" Gretchynn squeaks.

"What the fuck are you trying to do?! Stay behind me!" the man pushes Gretchynn's drunk, uncoordinated body behind him.

"Alright, little boy," he laughs at me, toying with my growing fury, and I snarl at him.

My fists clench and ball up instinctively. My alcohol-filled mind pounds with a nauseating rush, yet calming adrenaline. I have to squint my furious eyes locked on my opponent as to not be drowned in my dizziness.

The stubborn red head moves forward once again. "I really think we should be go-"

"How many times do I have to tell you?!" the man booms, "get the fuck behind me, you thirsty bitch!"