After being cheated on by her fiancé, the last thing Lydia wants to do is room with her brother and his 2 roommates, but what happens when she has no where else to go?
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Devastated by a betrayal...
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I awoke from a particularly nasty nightmare, one that went over the events of the night before. I recalled the night's...activities and grimaced at how it had all went down.
I'd entered the Irish pub with Malcolm, the hardened patrons ignoring us as we we entered, but I knew something was...off.
I glanced to my left and noticed just exactly what it was that was off. There was a girl at the counter swaying, obviously drunk off her ass, and the man with the scar was there. The one I'd witnessed in the alley hurt the girl on the case we were working.
I'd encountered him multiple different times since that night in October when I hadn't stepped in and stopped him when I should have. I always blamed myself for letting him hurt her so badly before he got away, and I wasn't planning on letting him get away, not this time, even though I had Malcolm hanging around.
I walked up to the bar when the bartender and owner finally looked up and noticed that it was me.
"What can I do for my favorite patron?"
I gave him a tight lipped smile while I discussed with him the details of what we needed from him and a knowing glint appeared in his eyes.
"All this time and I had no idea you were a lawyer."
"Well, that's the plan one day, but right now we're on the track to becoming one. Do you know if we can have access to the footage from that night?"
"For you, anything. Wait here and I'll find the tape from the night. Cases like this happen often, sadly, so I keep a backlog of ten years."
I knew there was a reason I liked him. His greying hair flew around on his head as the fans circulated the air in the less than cramped bar, and I kept my eyes trained on scar face.
"Why are you staring at that guy? Is he your type or something?"
I snapped my attention back to Malcolm who was giving scar face a nasty look.
"Don't look at him," I hissed through my teeth. "And no, for your information. He's a creep and I'm watching him to make sure he doesn't try anything with that girl."
"That girl at the bar? He's all the way across the bar..."
At his words, scar face tipped back the rest of his pint of amber colored beer and stalked towards the woman who was at least eight bar stools away from us, but I could still smell the cigarette smoke rolling off of him in waves, could still see the dangerous glint in his eyes. He was dressed the same as he always was, casual jeans and loose black t-shirt, army green jacket that brought out the same coloring in his gaunt eyes, framed by caramel skin and scruff that covered half of his face, and the infamous scar that was the reason for his nickname.
He reminded me of a more gruff version of Raphael, and the thought made me hate him even more.
