Chapter 73. Bermuda Triangle

When the DPO said some of his men would watch me, he wasn’t lying—because now I’m walking into a cozy bar hoping to escape the rest of my problems only to find two men in uniforms block my way.

“I can’t even get a damn drink?” I ask. One of them stares at Zeath’s car that I drove. “Oh, well. You know what? I’m still gonna drink…” I squeeze Zeath’s car keys into one’s palm, “…and you can go ahead and drive me back home or the hospital afterward, at least save your own fucking fuel.” I cut my way between the men, pushing past them into the bar and making straight for the counter. “Please give me anything strong enough to knock me out,” I tell the barman who immediately gets to work.

“This is stronger,” someone whispers by my side as I feel something grazing my right elbow.

Wanna guess what it is?—a small plastic bag containing fucking marijuana.

My eyes roll without my permission before I groan. “Put that away. The cops are watching me.”

The plastic b