Chapter 130

Despite our desperate struggles to defend ourselves, we were simply not strong enough against the men who frequented the bar.

My left wrist was scratched and bleeding. Queenie was forcibly fed a bottle of strong liquor and had passed out in her seat.

Julia was surrounded by several men, dodging and weaving among them. Her coat was splashed with alcohol, and her hair, once neat, was now disheveled.

"Don't touch her!"

The man who forced Queenie to drink laughed menacingly as he reached for her collar. Without hesitation, I grabbed the ashtray from the table and smashed it on him.

The ashtray was made of thick, transparent glass. I swung it with all my strength. With a cry of pain, the man's head immediately turned red.

The lights were too dim for me to see how big the wound was. But the man sat on the couch, clutching his head and groaning.

I made up my mind to use the ashtray to strike anyone who dared to touch us.

However, I didn't have the opportunity to strike again as Colin