That should have been the end of it, but he didn’t stop. I rolled my eyes at his alternation between pleas and promises of “the best night of my life,” eventually getting fed up and deciding to go somewhere else. I stood, and the rush to my head made me stumble. I had drank more than I thought.
“Wait!” Luke threw out his hand to grab my arm. Instead, he knocked the half-empty cup of water over onto the counter. “Oh, shit, sorry!” He jumped up, hurriedly grabbing some napkins from the bar and lifting up the glasses that the water was slowly seeping under. I grabbed a handful of napkins for myself, frustrated at the turn my night was taking, and wiped at the few drops that got on my dress.
“Have a good night,” I snapped, whisking my half-finished drink off the counter and turning to leave.
But before I could take a step forward, a towering man with dark brown hair that fell past his shoulders and who looked as if he may be sculpted from stone stepped in front of me and snatched my drink from my hand.
“Dude, what the hell?” I yelled over the music, craning my neck upward to meet his gaze. His eyes blazed with anger, and his mouth was set in a hard line emphasized by the sharp edges of his facial hair. He briefly glanced down at me and said nothing, then brushed past me and reached across the bar, pouring my drink into the bartenders’ sink. Was every man I met tonight destined to be a douchebag?
His steps were heavy and his broad shoulders squared as he walked toward Luke and stopped directly in front of him with only inches to spare. Luke was now sitting stone-still, his face noticeably paler and his eyes wide. He looked terrified.
I wondered briefly if they knew each other.
The large man—who was followed by a seemingly quieter, leaner, dark-haired friend—grabbed Luke by the collar and yelled in a booming voice, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
My mind was spinning as the alcohol seeped into my veins. I tried, and failed, to understand what was happening.
“I-uh, I’m—“ Luke stumbled over his words and couldn’t finish his sentence. I almost felt bad for him, seeming so small and pitiful in comparison to this man.
The other stranger, the one who had walked over with the large yelling man, seemed to emanate a calming sort of darkness as he gently grabbed my arm and said, “You may want to step back.” His voice was low and rough and sent shivers through me. I stumbled back a bit, feeling awkward when he caught my arm to keep me upright. I was already regretting how much I had drank.
“You think if a woman doesn’t want to sleep with your sleazy ass that you can put something in her drink and force her instead?” The large man yelled. “Are you really that much of a fucking low-life?” The muscles of his chest and arms seemed to jump under his shirt as if anticipating a fight, and I took note of the dark tattoos trailing his arms. I couldn’t pull my eyes from the scene unfolding in front of me, but I could feel the dozens of gazes turned our way.
Then, I registered what was being said. Wait, did he try to drug me? My thoughts whirled as the liquor continued to flood my senses as Luke desperately tried to talk his way out of the situation. The guilt was etched on his face, but the man towered over him, tense and unrelenting. Everything around me started to blur, the soft, fuzzed outlines of the bar and the people shifting in front of me.
“Damien, take it outside!” A bartender yelled.
“Oh, I fucking will,” he seethed. Keeping his hold on Luke’s collar, he threw some cash from his pocket onto the counter for the bartender and practically dragged a stumbling Luke outside. The brooding, dark-haired guy took my arm again and led me outside to follow Luke and Damien.
“I’m Alex,” he said. “Are you here with anyone?” I thought of Leah and Angie, then remembered they left me without a second thought, so I just shook my head. “Okay. We’re going to help you get home safe.” I marveled again at how deep his voice was.
At this point, I didn’t care anymore about what happened. My friends had left me anyway. My night was ruined between that and Luke trying to drug me to do God-knows-what.
“You probably don’t want to watch this,” Alex muttered.
As if on cue, a sickening crunch resounded across the parking lot, the sound of what I could only assume was the man named Damien punching Luke. Luke cried out, but I had no sympathy for him. Not anymore. I still couldn’t believe that he had tried to drug me. He hadn’t seemed like that bad of a guy, just a little creepy. But what would he have done if nobody had stepped in? I shuddered at the thought.
I kept my face down and turned away while Alex stood close, and we listened to the sound of Luke getting pummeled. Venturing a quick glance up at Alex’s face, I couldn’t tell much from his expression aside from the small smirk that danced upon his lips and the darkness in his eyes. He didn’t look the least bit disturbed at the grotesque sounds coming from the men before us.
His cheekbones were sharp against his pale skin, and the dark hair falling across his forehead cast a shadow over his already-dark eyes. He was breathtakingly beautiful. I giggled as I realized why he seemed to look familiar; He resembled the 2010s pictures on Tumblr of sexy emo guys that always had wings or devil horns edited on them alongside some song lyrics about being “misunderstood.” I had loved those damn pictures in my early teen years.
My drunkenness began to take full effect, and I couldn’t hold back my giggles from this mental image.
Alex glanced over at me and raised an eyebrow, probably thinking I was insane for laughing while his friend beat the shit out of some guy. “Something funny?”
“Oh, uh, no. Sorry,” I muttered, still trying to hide my smile. I hoped that it was dark enough that he couldn’t see me blushing.
The world spun around me as I struggled to steady myself. I silently chastised myself for drinking so much, like I always ended up doing. But still, some small part of me reveled in the surreal feel of the cool night air as my head swam. “I don’t want to be weird, but can I hold your arm again?” I asked Alex. “I think I had a few too many drinks.”
He held out his arm, much like a gentleman, and turned back toward the fight. I shouldn’t have even called it a fight, really. It was more of a one-person massacre. I glanced up just as Damien began walking back toward us, looking unbothered as he casually wiped his palms on his pants, with a crumpled mound that I could only assume to be Luke on the ground behind him.
“Sorry for all the violence,” he said. “But sometimes it’s necessary with these dickheads who think they’re entitled to women by any means possible. I’m Damien, by the way,” he added, holding out his rather large hand.
I barely felt it coming, but before I could say anything or return his handshake, I turned around and promptly vomited on the pavement.
“Wow, I guess she really didn’t like the violence,” Damien chuckled as I struggled to maintain my balance. I vaguely felt Alex’s hands on my waist holding me steady. “That’s too bad. I would’ve had her take a shot at him while he’s down.”
I stood back up, my head spinning and my thoughts becoming more muddled by the second. Leah still had my apartment key, so I couldn’t even go home. I tried to make some excuse to go back into the bar, but my words were a jumbled mess. I managed to get my point across, but they wouldn’t let me go back in. The drunkenness was getting to be too much. Nothing would come out right. The world was a haze. Everything went dark.