“Go home.”
This came from behind me and I turned, looked up and saw Rhash standing there.
“What?”
“You got a long drive tomorrow, it’s after midnight, you aren’t drinkin’ and these guys are three sheets so, in about ten minutes, they won’t even know where they are much less why they’re here. So go home,” Rhash answered.
“Do I have to give out hugs?” I asked.
“Fuck, no. You hugged me, I might puke,” Live answered the question I asked Rhash and I turned back to him.
Tiny grinned stupidly at me. “You can hug me.”
“I’m not hugging anyone,” I declared.
“Aw, come on, Pip. Give me a hug,” Tiny encouraged, lumbering toward me.
“Tiny, stand down,” I ordered, retreating.
“A little one?” Tiny asked.
“Fuck off,” I snapped.
He lifted his hand with his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “A teeny, eeny, one?”
Jesus.
I put my hands to the massive wall of his chest and pushed. “Fuck off, Tiny, or I’ll shoot you.”
His hand shot out, curled around my neck and his face was suddenly all I could see. “I’ll miss you, girl.”
As fast as it happened, he turned and lumbered away.
Live caught my eyes and tipped up his chin before he looked away, swallowed and jerked his chin up again at the bartender to order another beer.
My eyes slid through the guys and I got more looks, chin lifts and then they turned away.
They were all going to miss me.
I felt a lump form in my throat.
“Go home,” Rhash said quietly from beside me and I looked up with him.
“Right.”
He held my eyes.
I lifted a hand and placed it on his chest.
“Quality, Pip,” Rhash was still talking quietly, “you are pure quality.”
I pressed my lips together, pressed my hand in his chest and jerked up my chin.
Then, before I lost it, I said not a word, turned on my boot and left.
As I was walking to my girl in the parking lot, I saw it.
A shiny, black Aston Martin.