ACCIDENT

“I care so much to share!” I hiss between gritted teeth, my scornful gaze scorching his tipsy eyes. “You have meddled too much, and I don’t like it. Leave my table!”

He smirks as if he thinks I mean the exact opposite of what I am saying. “I can be a better remedy than alcohol and loneliness.” 

I lean back at the utter shock of the shamelessness of this ugly jerk. Mr. Know-it-all. Mr.…” Excuse me?” I squint my eyes, a hiccup emitting at the end of my question.

I think I need to get the hell out of this place. I drank much more than I should have. My belly is churning, giving a stringent warning to more alcohol.

I begin pulling myself up at an intoxicated, swaggerific pace, but I am pinned down before I even make it to my feet. The heck! The moron leans in, burning my face with his intoxicated eyes. They have nothing special in them, or maybe the betrayal that I just suffered has turned me into a cold fish.

His hand remains wrapped around my waist as he speaks, “I know how to detect a ‘matters of the heart’ problem when I see one, baby. And this,” he stretches his other hand to touch my face, but I lean back further, evading it. He smirks before speaking again,” This is heartbreak written on your beautiful face. A steamy night would be a sweet remedy, gorgeous. It might not take this pain away for good, but it will for a while and make it bearable for the next couple of days!”

I see. Ooh, I see!

A bittersweet smug effortlessly comes out of my mouth, my soul burning with hate for this man inside.

So, I now look this broken, this cheap, that a stranger would just stare at me and think that he can take advantage of me, abi? I look like I am on the verge of committing suicide; that is why some jerk would try to talk me into such absurdity, right?

Morons who take every chance they get to shove their third leg on anything in the skirt that they see are the worst beings on this earth. The likes of Leon, who fuck any dog that they come across. This cursed type that does not respect us.

Well, let’s see how much fun he will have with this…

“Ouch!” the man screams as blood splashes all over from his forehead.

The action was so swift that I doubt I am no wolf to have that speed. The remaining broken piece of the bottle falls from my hand as I start shaking from the aftermath of my rage. My breath catches in my throat.

Screams erupted in the entire club, people running a safe distance from the scene. I am left alone with the man I just injured. The man is badly bleeding and groaning in pain on the floor. His whole face is covered in blood now. I am afraid this looks terrible!

“Hey, I… I am sorry. Are you…?

“Get away from me, you psycho! Don’t you dare get close to me!” He screams through pain, waving his blood-soiled hands to shoo me away.

My eyes come into contact with the fresh, open wound on his face. It does not look good at the very least. I bashed him too hard, and I swear it was not my intention. I didn’t mean to go this savage on him. What even came over me for God’s sake!

“Someone please call an ambulance. We need to get him to the hospital! Don’t you all just look at him? He can’t die! We need to help him!” I go hysterical trying to plead for help, but all these idiots do is just stare and whisper among themselves instead of helping me.

“We need to help him, goddamned it! He is losing too much blood!” I cry.

Just then, strong arms hug my shoulders from behind. I swirl around slowly, tears streaming down my cheeks as the intensity of my actions sinks in. “Joe?” I sob, blinking rapidly to get rid of the curtains of tears hanging in my eyes.

He is here?

“B? What…?”

“Oh, my God! Is he dead?”

Dead?

Joe and I snap in the direction of that voice from the crowd, but we are soon redirected to the man that I bashed. He is lying flat on the floor, his eyes closing. He is static. I can’t sense even a slight movement of his chest to indicate that he is still breathing from the short distance that I am from him.

I grow numb, but I amass the little courage I have left and push myself forward to feel his purse. But Joe’s hands are holding me tight, pulling back. I look at him past my shoulder.

He slightly nods. “Stay here. I will check.”

He should be a certified doctor if he finished his studies back in Cuba. So, I guess he is in a better position to assess the situation better than me. I obey, and I watch him as he takes steps reaching for the man.

Reaching down, he kneels beside him, taking the man’s one hand with the other and feeling the pulse with the thumb. A few seconds of screaming lull pass.

He drops the hand without saying anything. He does not even look at me or anyone, and that creeps me out. He proceeds to place his index and middle fingers on the man’s neck. And that, just like the previous one, takes long moments of paralyzing silence and fear.

Then he looks in my direction, our eyes locking. His eyes don’t give any good vibes. “Joe? Is he…”

He shakes his head slightly.

A striking numbness stumps me. I feel extremely weak all of a sudden.

“He is not...?” I whimper as fear takes control over my entire body. I see darkness, perhaps that which awaits me in my place of punishment for my crime.

“B? Bella?”

All I know is that I fell into sweet, strong, and safe hands, but everything fell dark and quiet before I could even see whose hands I fell in.