The wind from the waves hit my face as I wiggle my toes in the cold and damp sand. The sun has gone down and the beach is empty aside from the seagulls that linger, eager to catch leftovers from previous visitors. The water shines with the light of the moon as it reaches for my toes and retracts, only to try again. I let my head hang back; there are no stars in the sky, leaving the moon lonely in its shine. A laugh bubbles out of my throat at the stupid thought and I fall back into the sand, the bottle of Jägermeister in my hand tipping over.
Another laugh comes out as I pick up the bottle and bring it to my lips. The liquor slips down the sides of my mouth and sand swirls with it around my tongue. I've never drunk this before. It's so...like cough syrup. I laugh again. I'm getting drunk on freaking NyQuil. Is that what I've come to. Guess so.
The moon won't shine if I put my hand over it, I notice. But if I remove it, it's still there. It always is right there. There's some deep meaning in there, I know it, but I'm too drunk to think straight. The laugh comes with a hiccup this time, which then leaves me in a fit of giggles. I'm hiccuping like a novice now.
Once again, I touch the bottle to my lips and drink the last of the two drops that's left. With a grunt, I push myself up on wobbly legs and fling the empty bottle at the waves. "Fuck you!" I yell, putting my whole body into the burst of anger. My leg gives out and I topple over, but it isn't long before I'm back on my two staggering feet and work the might to yell at the universe the way I've been wanting to.
"I just lost everything because of you, motherfucker!" I hiccup, which now only seems to annoy me. "You ripped it away from me and kicked me while I was down and now you're just gonna spit in my face by leaving me half-drunk? Fuck off! Least you...I mean, come on, least you could do is fu—" I hiccup again. "—king let me get shitfaced! Let me forget! Am I not even allowed that? I'm not dead yet, bitch! You don't get to start punishing me already!"
Sand cushions my fall as I land back on it, frustration tasting more bitter that the entire bottle of no-no juice I just downed. No-no juice. I snort. Fucking hell, I am pathetic.
My eyes start closing and I just want to take a nap and sleep until the awaiting heading comes banging on my skull. Instead, I get a tap on the shoulder and a disturbance. Fuck you, universe.
"Boss," comes the voice of one of my men. Orlando, Fernando, Arnoldo, I-don't-fucking-know-o. "You should head back now. It's dangerous out here and you're in no position to defend yourself. Here, drink this."
He shoves a water bottle into my hand and two little pills. Aspirin, I'm guessing. I raise my eyebrows to them, but take them either way. "You giving me orders now, whatever-your-name-is-o? Because I'll have you know that your job is to defend me when I am not in the position to do it myself, like you say."
"Guillermo," he says. It takes me longer than I'm proud of to realize he's telling me his name. "And, I know my job, ma'am. It's to ensure you stay safe. Drinking a 750 milliliter bottle of thirty-five-percent liquor some would say is unsafe. But I'm not about to risk my head and tell you, so I'll manage collateral after the deed. Come on, let me help you up."
I let him lift me. "I'm too drunk to discern if you're shitting with me, but not enough to know you made valid points wither way." He opens the bottle for me while I throw the pills in my mouth, then he tips the bottle back while I open my mouth to let the water in.
As the water trickles onto my tongue, a million memories wash over my head. I push I-forgot-his-name-already back and snatch the bottle from his hands.
His hands immediately go up. "If I overstepped—"
"No," I croak, then clear my throat because what the fuck was that? "You...you're fine. I—take me to the car."
He nods and I follow his back to the car. I'm not drunk enough to forget, so the memories pile on, leaving me breathless. I cover the pain with more water—utterly useless, by the way—all the while wishing I'd taken two bottles from the liquor cabinet instead of one.
YOU ARE READING
Final Call for Mercy
Action*Book 3 of Queen of the Underworld Series* It's do or die for Anastasia and her family as an old foe disguised as a new threat circles them like a shark would its prey. Round and round and round they go until it's face-to-face and the end is a bulle...
