Man of Honor (Battle Scars #3) - Diana Gardin Page 0,7
liquor in my stomach sloshes around. A wave of nausea hits me, and my head threatens to split my vision in two. Blinking rapidly, I take out a few bills and toss them onto the shiny bar top.
“Guess I’ll be walking tonight. The cold air should help.”
I know I’m slurring, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m drunk as fuck, and damn if I’m not ashamed of myself for it. This has never been my thing. Losing control like this…it’s not me. I just needed to let loose after the previous seventy-two hours from hell.
But now I’m straight fucked.
The bar’s gone pretty quiet around us. At this hour, the crowd is gone and the staff is starting their closing duties. The blonde, finally realizing we’re not going home together because that’s the absolute last thing I need, turns around in a huff and flounces away. She’s a little unsteady on her feet, but I watch to make sure she makes it to the door okay. The cab should be out there for her.
“You’re welcome for the drinks,” I mutter and turn back to Lenny.
“I can call Dare,” she offers.
I shake my head vehemently at that, and wince at the pain it causes. Shit, how many whiskeys did I have? I’d lost count somewhere around eleven o’clock.
“Don’t do that, Len. I’ll be fine. Let me just—” I attempt to make my legs move me toward the front door, but they end up getting twisted around, and I stumble, nearly falling on my ass.
“Boozer!” Lenny hollers. “Get out here!”
Her giant of a husband appears instantly from the kitchen. He takes one look at me, shakes his head and frowns. “What the hell, Drake?”
Shrugging, I chuckle. “Rough day, Boozer. You don’t wanna know.”
He sidles up next to me, holding up one side of me, not grunting with the effort, because he’s as big as I am. “Where am I taking you?”
I’m about to open my mouth to answer him, when instead a sweet, sassy voice from my other side does it for me. “You can put him in my car, Booze. I got him.”
Boozer glances at her and scowls. “You don’t got shit.”
Mea pulls herself up to her full height, which makes me grin, and narrows her eyes at him. “I said I got him.”
Boozer looks like he doesn’t know which one of us is annoying him more right now, but he and Mea work together to help my pathetic ass walk to her car. Boozer pushes me in on the passenger side, where I feel like a sardine crunched into a small aluminum can, and closes the door. I lean my head back against the seat, taking deep and steady breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth.
My eyes are closed, so I only hear Mea when she gets in beside me.
Without a word, she starts her ignition and pulls out of the parking lot.
The silence is thick but the last thing I want to do is piss her off, so I stay quiet and just concentrate on breathing and not throwing up. Because I’d never live it down if I did.
“Where are we?” I ask when the car rolls to a stop. Opening one eye, I check our surroundings.
“Your place. Because this is where you live.” Mea speaks slowly, like she’s talking to a kid. I guess I deserve it.
“Thanks. I can take it from here.”
“Sure you can.” She rolls her eyes, sighing in total exasperation. “Stay right there, you big idiot. I’ll help you.”
This time I watch as she scoots around the front of the car, her hair billowing out all around her. She walks with her shoulders back and her head held high. Proud, proud, proud.
Whatever can be said about Mea Jones, she’s not weak. She’s smart, she’s strong, and she’s tough as nails.
And when she grabs my arm and begins tugging me out of her car, I try my damnedest not to snort with laughter. I help her out, lugging myself up and out and trying not to lean too heavily on her while we walk from her car parked in my driveway to the front door of my house.
I glance at my keys, then glance at the lock. Realizing this task might just be harder than my numb mind can handle at the moment, I hand the keys to Mea. She throws me a heated glance, busies herself with unlocking the door, and we both lurch into the living room. She kicks the