Last Night

Part 11

I stared into the glass of vodka sitting before me. It probably wasn't laced with anything. What would be the point of that? Nobody would come to my aid anyway.

"So, everyone here is a puppet," I said with a surprisingly detached sense of self.

Ian leaned against the kitchen cabinets to my right, his arms bracing on the counter. He cringed at the term, 'puppet,' but that's exactly what they were.

"It's for their safety. It keeps them out of whatever I have going on and protected from knowing anything that can be used against me."

"Once again, selfish reasoning at the core of it all. Why do you pretend? Do you not want to come to terms with the monster you are?" I looked away from him to the door on the opposite side of the apartment. He didn't need to block my path because he'd catch me before I'd ever make it half way. I knew that now. My gaze drifted back to the little, round table I sat at and my drink.

"It's not poisoned, if that's what you're worried about."

I shifted in the chair. My butt was falling asleep. "I just came off of a very hard night of drinking. I'm not really feeling any more alcohol right now."

"I realize that, but this might be the best thing for you."

"So, it's not poison, then what's in it? You always have an agenda." Looking straight at him, my chest ached as I spoke. "Please, I'm already numb. If you're going to drain me dry, go ahead, but leave the others out of this. Don't touch Emily or Roberta or George, or Mackenzie, Tom, or their baby girl, Laila. You touch any of them or the others here and I will come back and haunt your possibly immortal ass."

"You don't sound very apathetic," he said as he walked over and sat down across from me.

"It's your fault. You bring out the protective nature in me." I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands, exasperated. I will not cry. "My emotions have been all over the place since you barged into my life."

He reached out and snatched the glass from me, a half grin trying to spread along his lips. It didn't make it half way before he took a healthy swig and his lips returned to a slight frown. "See? It's safe. Why is it hard for you to believe I'm not constantly trying to kill you?"

"I don't trust people, ever."

He pushed the half-empty glass towards me. "And what about Emily?"

"She's the exception."

"There's always one. And when you said I reminded you of her?"

"I was obviously too drunk to know what I was saying. You're nothing alike. She's good. You're..." I tapered off, trying to think of what he was. It was irritating. He was some stupid conundrum that I couldn't pin down. I grabbed the glass of vodka and downed it in one gulp. "You're you."

"That's a bit harsh, considering the fact that I've saved you three times and twice it's bitten me in the ass like an ill-mannered dog."

"Maybe the dog was..." I blinked. Three times? "So you were involved somehow. All right, what happened?"

He sighed, bring his hand to his cheek and rubbing up along his temple. "All I know is that you got yourself into bad shape by the time I ran into you. I helped you back to Emily's because I didn't know how bad you were, but I figured she could handle it."

"Then do I have you to thank for this?" I lifted my bruised wrist up and mock offered it to him. "There's always something in it for you."

"I've had enough, thanks." His nose and brow crinkled when he glanced at it.