Where The Dandelions Grow

07 - Fuck It

Echo's POV

"Hey, chick," The guy sitting at the bar calls out to me. "Hurry it the hell up with the drinks!"

Today is not the day for a soul to try to talk to me any way they feel like it. I refuse to take it as I'd normally due under Greg's orders. But fuck Greg.

I snap my head over at the guy that shouted at me and squint. His face is familiar. It looks like he's been smashed in the nose a thousand times with how crooked it is. Probably got punched that many times considering how much of a dick he is.

Then the memory of where I've seen him starts to come back to me. He was one of the guys Brandon was sitting at a few weeks ago. He's not alone, sitting with another one of the guys that were at that table.

I walk over with his drink and slam it down hard in front of them, cutting off his sentence and making him glare at me.

"The fuck is wrong with you, bitch?"

The flames of anger running through my veins take over as I raise the drink and throw it in his face. He stands up at a height of at least six feet with a shirt and his face drenched with alcohol. I smile as he curses up a storm, bringing the attention of others our way.

"That's for being such a fucking dick!"

He huffs a humorless laugh. "You're a crazy fucking chick, you hear me? What sort of drugs are you on, huh? Crack?" He walks up to me, leaving only the bar counter between us, and leans over. I challenge him and lean forward too.

"What. Are you gonna hit me? I dare you too." I clench my jaw, juggling with the man with practical steam shooting out his twisted nostrils. Maybe I want him to hurt me. Maybe I want someone else to do it so that I don't have to.

I keep on. "How about you take your ass back to that job you have and pray you don't get a call from your mom." I stare at him in his raging eyes. "Must be hard living while having a son that's such an embarrassment like you."

His lip curls in and he goes to jump over the counter, "You son of a—" but he's cut off, getting pulled back by his shirt and hard thrown onto the floor.

Standing behind him is Brandon.

His eyes wide staring at the guy groaning in pain on the floor, then at me. I lean against the bar counter and cross my arms.

Well hello to the second unwelcome guest. Haven't seen this one in exactly three days.

"Are you okay?" He asks me quickly. I nod once, with attitude. Brandon looks back down at his friend. "Erin, what the fuck are you doing?"

Erin stands up and pushes Brandon's chest, knocking him back only a few feet. They aren't so far off the same weight, and height, but Brandon seems much healthier than that slob in front of him. Not even a crack of fear shows in his expression.

"That whore of yours was talking about my mom. You know her, don't you? I saw you go into that bathroom with her for way longer than a few minutes the last time we came. Who is she? Hm?"

"None of your fucking business, that's who she is." His tone is clear, calm, and cool. He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and stands tall, not stealing a glance my way. Pissed off. Whether it's at me or Erin, I'm not sure. "But if I ever see you going to put your hands on her again, you're gonna have problems bigger than someone talking about your mom."

Music blasts loud throughout the car, masking the ordeal that's currently going down to everyone, but the few people surrounding us. Erin walks closer to Brandon, and I step forward from behind the counter. In a dark corner of my head, I'm hoping he doesn't lift a fist.