Page 7 of Lucky 14

“How many of those can your boyfriend get you to stick up your ass at a time?”

The words take a second to register. All I can do is gape at her. Did she just…talk about my ass?

The woman taps a single finger on her drink, and there’s a tiny smirk on her face. “Whose man are you?”

For a second, all I can feel is hot rage. This bitch is messing with me. I go to answer, Poppy’s name automatically filling my mouth.

And then all that anger that’s been building like a volcano suddenly gets caught in the back of my throat. Everything feels tight. I was Poppy’s. Right now, it’s feeling a lot more like she doesn’t want me.

My throat squeezes so hard it hurts, and I clear it, hoping to relieve some of the stress.

“Well?” the woman asks, but her voice is softer now.

“No one’s,” I say, my voice gruff. Because if Poppy wants to behave that way, then I’m not attached to anyone. “Guess no one is loyal these days.”

There’s a huff next to me, and I glance over. She waves a disinterested hand at me. “Save it, I’m not your therapist.”

Therapist. The sudden reminder makes me angry again, and the anger feels so much better than the pain.

“Good. Fuck therapists, and fuck you too.” I take a burning swallow of my drink.

There’s silence for so long, I’m not sure if the woman left. I don’t care. All I care about is that the drink is finally, finally making the sad feel fuzzy. I glance at my phone, not caring anymore if I get caught. Opening our text threads, I read Poppy’s and my messages until the words blur.

“You drink like you’re running from something, piano boy.”

I glance over. The woman is still there. She’s looking at me with a calculating sort of interest. “You coming to the game?”

The game? What game? I just stare at her, then mutter, “Fuck off.” I’m not sure who this woman is, but she’s a nosy asshole. Seems to be a theme.

“That’s what I thought,” the woman says, her voice lowering. “You seemed like too much of a bitch anyway.”

My entire face lights up with heat as the anger flashes to life. I turn to face her fully. “Excuse me?” I’m not above fighting a woman. I’ve never done it, but this one seems to be asking for it.

She grins fully now, raising her hands. “Relax. You’re so easy.”

I glare at her.

Her grin is so wide I can see more of her teeth than is comfortable. “You just seemed like you needed to blow off some steam.”

I do. I need to blow off steam by storming to Poppy’s house and banging on the door until she lets me in. But I wouldn’t put it past her to call the cops, so I need something, anything to distract me. I grit, “What game?”

“Forget about it.” The woman finishes her drink.

“No,” I say. She’s right. I need a distraction. I try to focus on keeping the spinning lights in focus. “Tell me about it.”

The woman’s eyes dart around, then back to me. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

Oh, so this is a secret thing. Suddenly, I’m interested. I always suspected there was more to this club than met the eye, but no one ever filled me in. And if I don’t participate in this stupid little game, I might go to jail tonight.

“You don’t look like the type.” The woman motions for another drink. “Offense meant.”

Anger makes me tighten my fist. Not good enough to take part in their bullshit little club? I’ll show her.

“I can handle it.”

“You won’t even fight for your…” she hesitates, “partner. What makes you think you can handle this?”

“Fight for her? I’d kill for her!” The words come out in an angry burst, but I realize I meant every word.