Disclaimer: There is more profanity in this book than any of my other books. I'm not saying there is a lot, it's just more.
You don't need to watch ROSEWOOD to understand the book, but it is a really underrated show! It's on HULU.
_
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"Toda mi gente se mueve Mira el ritmo cómo los tiene Hago música que entretiene El mundo nos quiere, nos quiere, me quiere a mí"
A tune that blasted through her ears all night on repeat. Nothing in between, they played it back to back to back. It was poking at a nerve on the side of her neck, to be quite honest.
The tiny glass she held in her hand, the rim was being traced by her finger as she look into the crowd. She tried to hide the fact that the stinging and burning in the back of her throat hadn't ceased from the previous drink.
Here I am being stupid... again. You're being stupid.. again.
A chill ran through her body, not the type of chill that would allow your door to open, letting whatever you sought that was so delightful enter. Although this shiver up her spine was cold, it didn't bring her joy at all. Her jaw clenched at the irritating voice in her head that chose now of all times to debate with her. It was the reason for her being led to a damp, loud place where people would come to drown their sorrows. It was a nice place, though.
I'm well aware...shut up. I mean, you know no one here, no one knows you. You are in a random club, a YOUNG WOMAN, by yourself and drunk. It's more than stupid, you're being dense.
You sound misogynistic...
And you sound stupid... If I were there, what would I say?
Hmm.. let's think. Her head lowered in laughter at a memory so vague and so fuzzy. She remembered so clearly just before she walked into this place.
You would probably say something between the lines of "It's my day bitch, get your head out of your ass, Lise."
And you wouldn't have listened. You are Correct. Okay... I'm dead, now. Shut up. I'm gone, but forreal, Lise. This is dangerous man. As a birthday gift... just leave. I'm sure you've noticed those hijos de putas over there undressing you with their eyes.
Your birthday was two days ago Marcos... I can take care of myself, leave.
Her expentace was to turn back around to the bar with a beer bottle waiting for her on the counter, but it wasn't. Something much stronger sat in front of her, not one but two shots of a clear substance inside. Vodka or maybe even tequila.
"I didn't ask for this." The bartender said nothing, instead he pointed to the other end of the bar. The two men who stood there waved their hands, making it known that they were the ones who sent the treat.
