The Cop Next Door

eleven

"No." I shook my head, looking up at the vibrating walls of the Echo. Vivian patted my butt gently to usher me forward. 

"You don't have an option," She feigned a regretful frown before slipping into line with Dalila. "You're going to love it, I promise!" I sauntered in line behind them with Dax following suit. As the two women in front of us flirted and giggled with each other, Dax and I stood awkwardly silent. After being interrupted in the middle of an intimate hug that I had initiated, I wasn't sure how to start a conversation again. So we just didn't talk. By the time we entered the bursting building, the place had become packed with sweaty, intoxicated people. Between the bar and the dance floor, people drunkenly dance against each other in an alcohol-fueled sexual desire. 

"What's your drink, Pequeño?" Dalila called over the music. I shook my head, knowing that if I could control anything in this situation, it'd be my sobriety. Dalila pulled her brother up to the bar and disappeared to retrieve drinks for everyone. When the siblings returned, they brought two trays with four small glasses on each. 

"I've got shots!"Dalila beamed, setting her tray on the table we had found. Each of them grabbed a glass while I watched with growing nervousness, my stomach knotting as my eyes gazed over each of their waiting faces. 

"You want me to drink?" I bit my lip as I looked at the liquid. Dax looked away quickly, throwing back his shot. 

"Just take these two shots, for me," Vivian pleaded. "Let loose for once!" Releasing my lip from my teeth, I nodded hesitantly. 

"I, 2, 3!" We all threw our heads back, my throat burning harshly from the alcohol. 

"What is this?" I choked out as they handed me the second one. 

"Tequila." 

-

Two, three, four, five, six shots later. My stomach warmed with the help of my best friend Tequila. Dalila and Vivian eloped to the dance floor where they flirtatiously danced and touched each other. I sat on a cushioned bar stool, eating olives and Maraschino cherries. Dax had disappeared long ago, leaving me to my drunken thoughts. A hand appeared on my thigh and I whirled around in hope to see my favorite cop.

"Hey," A tall man with a five o' clock shadow slurred down at me. A gold chain around his neck dangled over his white wife beat which made me giggle with the thought of Jersey Shore. "Can I get you a drink?

"Tequi-"

"No, she's good." A voice growled from behind the tall man. I craned my neck around to see Dax's angry expression, his arms folded across his chest in a protective father-like manner. The tall man scoffed and turned back to me, leaning against the bar to appear nonchalant. 

"So what's your name, Sweetheart?" He purred to me, his finger gripping harder on my thigh. "How about that drink?" As I fumbled with something to say, fingers gripped the back of the tall man's neck and pulled him backward, his fingernails scratching my thigh as they left my skin. Dax filled the void of the tall stranger, looking down at me disapprovingly. 

"What were you doing talking to him?" He scowled, ordering himself his signature scotch, neat. 

"Um," I couldn't find words.

"He was going to drug you, you know." Dax jaw flexed under the skin of his cheek as he held up a small bag of pills. "Pick-pocketed these from him when he was walking over to you." I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"You knew he was going to target me?" I looked between the bag and Dax. He rolled his eyes, annoyed by the conversation before the bartender slid his drink across the table. Dax downed the liquid with ease.