CHAPTER THREE

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“You came back sooner than I’d have imagined, Max.”  Josh slurred.  He’d been waiting for me at the door, chatting it up with the bouncer before I’d approached.

“Nearly being killed by someone that used to be your ponce of a friend can’t sway me.  You ruddy well knew I’d come back eventually-”

“Oh?  I thought you’d be hiding your face.  Speaking of which - you don’t look so good.  How much sleep did you get last night?  Couldn’t catch a wink without your precious drugs?  They’re not even actual drugs.  You can’t even get addicted to drugs right,” Josh sneered.

The metal door swung open suddenly, and out stormed the red-head.  She glared at Josh.  “What are you yelling at him for?”  She said.

Josh stared at her in disgust.  “He shouldn’t be here-”

“Have I been released?”  I seethed.

“No, but-”

“Then I stay.  I’m not going to run like some other ruddy bleeder I’ve met.”  I glared towards Josh.

He was visibly surprised.

Not wanting to sit around and hear what they’d say next, I pushed past both of them and entered the building.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I wouldn’t exactly be ignored after what had happened last-night; yet the amount of eyes turned my way as I walked in was terrifying.  Pulling my hood up as I walked through the crowd, I kept my head held low and tried my hardest to remain unseen.  Unfortunately I was the center of a circus I wasn’t ruddy supposed to be a part of.

Somehow without being mobbed or questioned I reached the small bar I’d sat at last-night.  Trying to ignore the whispers that I heard as I was passing was nearly impossible, and the comments still wormed their way into my conscience.

I sat at a stool.  The bartender walked over to me behind the counter as I lowered my head and stared at my hands so as to avoid meeting his gaze.

“I’m not here to bite yer head off,”  He said reassuringly.  “I don’t have a reason to- ‘M not a part of W.A.S.P.  I’m just the bartender.”

“Okay, mate, I’d just assumed that-”

I shut my mouth as the bartender promptly walked away to serve someone else.  There was no reason for me to continue talking if I couldn’t even finish a sentence without being disregarded.  He turned his head towards me as he hovered over the counter while mixing a drink for the patient bloke waiting at the counter.

“Never assume anything.”

He gave the man his drink and walked back over to me.  The bartender reached under the counter and pulled out a mug, along with two small containers of coffee grounds.  “Regular or decaf?”

* * *

“So you really eat explosives?”  Ryker asked me, his voice strained.  He had been sitting alone in a corner, yet had finally had approached me after a while of what seemed like self-meditation.  

“Not really..”  I said.  “It’s more like inhaling...  But obviously I don’t ruddy inhale it because of health issues.”

“Health issues?  You don’t inhale it because of your health, but you eat it because that’s obviously perfectly normal.”

“Well, no...”  I cringed.  The topic was making me extremely uncomfortable.

“So it’s just like a drug?”  He asked.

The comment bothered me more than it should have.  “No, it’s not just like a drug.  I can’t get addicted to sodding drugs right, mate!  It’s an explosive.  I jacked that up just as well as everything else in my ruddy excuse of a life.”  I placed my elbow on the counter and rested my hand in my palm.

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