Alex tipped her head back, allowing her fifth tequila shot to burn her chest as the liquor went down her throat. “Damn that was good,” she said, doing a small shimmy at the effect the powerful drink was having over her. “Girl, you scared or something?”
Janice eyed the shot of Jose Cuervo she had been nursing for the past hour. “I’m the one who’s driving tonight.”
“One little drink won’t hurt.” Alex smiled widely. “Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.”
Hearing Alex chant, a group of men and women cheered Janice to take the shot to the head. The glass was halfway to her lips when a voice said, “If the lady doesn’t want to drink then she doesn’t have to.”
Everyone turned to find an imposing man standing with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face. The crowd dispersed, leaving the trio alone. Janice licked her lips at the stranger who was also her savior.
He was tall and muscular, his angular face handsome despite the grimace he wore. His Bruno Magli loafers matched his black Armani suit perfectly. The diamonds in the rings adorning his hands sparkled as he signaled for the bartender, who stopped what she was doing and came over to take their orders without any preamble. “What would you like to drink?” he asked, his eyes trained on Janice.
“A Sex on the Beach would be fine,” she stammered, lost momentarily in his piercing gray eyes. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” he replied, holding out his hand. “Ahab Miller. And you are?”
“Janice.” Janice pointed her thumb to Alex who was taking her unwanted shot to the head. “This is my friend —”
“Janice, I think I drank too much,” Alex slurred, tipping her head back to take in her friend. “I need to go home.”
Janice rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“How about this?” Ahab said, placing his warm hand on her thigh. “We fetch your friend a taxi and you hang out with me for a little while.”
“No, I should really —”
“That,” Alex said, emphasizing the ‘t,’ “sounds like a good idea. Go and get me a cab. You need some dick as hard as you be studying for law school.”
Janice rolled her eyes as she helped Alex off the stool and through the crowded club, Ahab on their heels. The July breeze was sobering as it tickled Alex’s face. Finding a taxi took five minutes.
“Call me the minute you get out of the cab and I’ll talk to you until you get to your apartment. Okay?”
Alex nodded drunkenly, a hiccup escaping her lips. “I got it, I got it. Now you go get you some of that dick.” She raised her hand and fake whispered, “That’s Ahab Miller. I heard some hoes talking about him: he owns the club.”
Janice rolled her eyes in amusement. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Alex slumped into the chair, her head spinning the moment she closed her eyes. She opened her purse and blindly searched through it until she found her cellphone. Popping one eye open, she noticed the message Q had left her.
Q: Went and got your spare key from ya moms. She was so happy to see me. I have surprise for you so hurry that cute li’l ass up.
“He so crazy,” she murmured. Her head lolled to the side easily, considering it felt like it weighed twenty pounds.
Alex wasn’t sure how long she had been passed out. The ride home was thirty minutes, but the way the cabbie was shaking her to wake up she could’ve been passed out for far longer. Rummaging through her purse, Alex tossed him two twenties and stumbled out of the car, too drunk to care about the change. She dialed up Janice, wondering what her best friend had gotten into so far with the very smooth Ahab.
“Girl, what took you so long?” Alex asked as she managed to pull open the broken lobby door to her building. “Don’t tell me you left with that nigga already.”
“Alex…” Janice whined causing Alex to let out a stream of giggles. “He’s so…fine. And smart. And funny. And —”
“You could see what he was working with through them suit pants,” Alex said, cracking up at how red Janice would’ve probably turned had her skin not been a rich brown.
“Alex, shut up and get your drunk ass in the —”
Alex screamed as her phone fell to the floor with a clatter. Blood, bright red blood, was splashed across her white walls. Shaking her head back and forth, she walked deeper into the house, her heart racing as the trail of blood grew thicker until it pooled around a very dead Q, who lay sprawled out on the floor, a look of surprise on his face.
“Oh my God,” Alex cried, dropping to her knees by Q’s dead body. “No, no, no. Q, wake up. Wake up.”
Crying against his unmoving chest, Alex felt her world fall apart all over again. She was walking into her house to find her little brother sprawled out on the couch, the white tee he wore blood red. Amara was still in her bed unmoving, an angel resting eternally. She was tired of this world where everyone she loved was snatched away from her. She decided that her time to leave and join them would come soon.
But not without blood on her hands first.
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