Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) by R.D. Cole Page B

with my tits, dude?”
    His drunk, red, hooded stare meets mine. “Yeah, baby, I do. They’re covered. Why don’t you show me what you’re hiding under them clothes?” He reaches out, trying to take hold of me while licking his nasty chapped lips.
    Immediately, I start to shiver as my hidden terror surfaces. Without a thought, I throw the whiskey in his face.
    “You bitch!”
    Chris has me behind him before the ass can reach over the bar. “Back off, asshole.”
    “Look what that cunt did!” He points to his wet face and upper body. “You’re gonna pay for this suit. You’re gonna pay for this.” His finger is directed at me as I peek over Chris’s shoulder. The guy is older and well dressed, but I know a fake when I see one.
    I step out from behind Chris, remembering I’m not Mouse anymore, or Blaire from years ago. I’m smarter… tougher. “Look, tiny dick. You can’t ask girls to flash you their tits and expect them to show the goods to you. Especially if you live at home with mommy and rent a suit just to make yourself look respectable. Your gel-smothered hair needs a cut, and the dandruff you’re sporting is reason enough for us to run for the hills. Add your fucked up, perverted ways of approaching a girl and you might as well go back to your blow up doll because the real thing is out of your league.”
    His face pales and narrowed eyes widen, confirming my thoughts were dead-on. He’s a poser. Mandy might have taken my hard-earned money, but she left me with some pretty keen observation skills. Before he can defend himself, Carlos breaks through the gathered crowd to snatch the guy up and leads him out. With everyone’s eyes now on me from the commotion, I feel panic set in as my adrenaline lessens.
    “I need a minute to myself.” Chris gives me the okay but offers me a shot of something clear before I leave. My shaking must be obvious. As the burn flows down my throat and settles in my stomach, I pass onlookers and push my way to the lounge. Sitting on the couch, I put my head between my legs and take deep breaths and count. Hopefully, the liquor will kick in soon and help calm me, but the emotions from moments ago are still there. I’m not used to defending myself. It’s still new and can be very overwhelming. The burning clog in my throat starts to build, but I refuse to cry. I’m tired of being weak. You’re okay, Blaire… You’re okay.
    “Everything will be okay, Blaire. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I’m so sorry. I won’t let him touch you again. I promise. We’ll tell someone and get out of here. Grandma will help.” Benji rambles and cleans my back as I lay on the floor huddled in myself shaking. I’m in a dark place, but his words still reach me. With each touch of the cloth on my flesh, a sting causes more pain that reminds me of earlier while I suffered. It’s my fault I’m in pain. I fought back. He always warned me not to, but I was stupid and did it anyways. Now my brother knows my darkest secret and it’s my fault. Now this blackness shadows not only me, but him, as well. And I can’t change it.
    A thumping noise arouses me from my trance. Looking up through a few errant strands of red hair, I see Lyric watching me. “What now?” I ask and look down to get away from the way his stare makes my insides squirm. Not from fear that he’ll hurt me, but fear he’ll see me. Judge me and accuse me of what happened to not only me, but also my brother. And that’s something I don’t want anyone to do. Especially him.
    He shrugs his broad shoulders that are covered in his tight orange t-shirt. I see the tattoos on his left arm and respect him a little more. Is that stupid? Yes. It makes no sense, but I think some weird bond is forming from that, and from the fact that he’s here. Obviously checking on me. And his art isn’t done on a desperate drunken night. It’s calculated and detailed. It obviously means a lot to him just as mine does me. “Just wanted to