Home > Tortured Souls (Rebels of Sandland, #2)(48)

Tortured Souls (Rebels of Sandland, #2)(48)
Author: Nikki J Summers

It got busier as the night wore on and the atmosphere in the bar ramped up a gear as the music started playing louder. There was no dancefloor; people just let go and danced where they stood, making the most of it.

Despite her earlier protestations, Emily had gone over to talk to the boys, but to her credit she didn’t leave us for long. Effy grew quieter the longer the night wore on, and she couldn’t stop herself from glancing across to where Finn stood and sighing. I made a conscious effort to try and avoid catching Brandon’s eye, but I felt him everywhere. Knowing he was here made the skin on the back of my neck prickle and my stomach churn with nervous energy. He was like a magnet I was trying to avoid being pulled towards. Did he feel it too?

Emily and Liv headed off to the toilets and Effy turned towards me.

“I don’t know what I did wrong?” she said, not looking at me, but peering over my shoulder at the bar area. “One minute I think he likes me, the next he does everything he can to avoid me. Why are boys so hard to figure out?”

“Maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s something else.” I offered, not having the first clue what was going on with her.

“I asked him out once. Only for coffee. He looked like I’d slapped him round the face and couldn’t make up excuses fast enough to get away from me. The next day he posted an envelope through my door with a note inside. He’d drawn a picture of my dog by hand. It was beautiful.” She shook her head sadly. “He’s a complete mind-fuck.”

“That’s really sweet. He obviously likes you.”

“Does he?”

Effy jolted forward in her chair as some woman behind our table, who’d drunk way too much, fell backwards and knocked into her. She didn’t complain though. Effy was too polite for that. I glared at the woman, but she just laughed and announced to the men with her that she wanted to dance on the tables. I really hoped she didn’t mean ours.

I watched as the woman climbed up onto the table next to us and almost broke her neck when her heels got caught in the grooves of the wood. She was shouting the lyrics to the song and swaying, and the men watching her just laughed, clearly enjoying the show. The woman needed a strong coffee and a new set of friends, in my opinion.

I saw Liv and Emily coming back across the bar, and when they spotted the woman, they both raised their eyebrows at her. She didn’t have a care in the world. She also had zero control and no balance whatsoever. She was an accident waiting to happen.

We all watched her, stunned and holding our breath in anticipation for the impending fall. But suddenly, the air around us became stifling and I tensed when I saw Ryan and Brandon standing next to us, both of them with faces like thunder. Zak and Finn were a bit further back, but from their expressions, shit was about to go down.

“You need to get down,” Brandon shouted to the woman over the music.

The woman did the most unsteady looking slut drop I’d ever seen and ran her ridiculously long nail under Brandon’s chin. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like her touching him.

“You’re a big strapping man. Why don’t you make me?” she purred back, but instead of sounding sexy, she sounded deranged.

“I’m not joking. Get down. You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he hissed, but loud enough that we could all hear him.

“It’s so cute that you care. Why don’t you come up here and join me?” She beckoned him on with her scrawny finger. Brandon just glowered back.

“You need to sober up and go home.”

We all sat watching, frozen in shock at how this was all playing out. Anyone could see how furious Brandon was, and it made us all hyper-alert, dreading what would happen next.

“I’ll go home with you, baby. If that’s what you want,” she said in a husky voice, leaning back down again and running her hand down his chest. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it away, grimacing at her touch like she’d just scorched him.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” he shouted, and a few people nearby moved away, probably frightened of getting caught in the crossfire. I could tell by the way Brandon’s jaw was clenched that he was close to losing it.

“Should I? Do I know you?” She laughed. “Did we fuck already?” She covered her mouth, pretending to look shocked. “Damn, I would’ve remembered you.”

“It’s Brandon,” he snapped.

“Brandon who?” She had absolutely no clue who he was, and Brandon was growing more irritated by the second.

“Brandon. Your son.”

What the fuck?

That was the last thing we’d expected him to say. This was Brandon’s mother? The cheap hooker dancing on the tables looking like she didn’t have a care in the world was the same bitch that’d screamed into a little boy’s face and told him she wished he was dead.

“I don’t have a son.” She shrugged. “Oh, wait. Yes, I do. But he’s a skinny little shit who fucked up my life.”

I shot up out of my chair, but Emily and Liv were closer, and they managed to get in her face quicker than I could.

“You’re un-fucking-believable… Mum,” Brandon said, folding his arms over his chest and doing a really good job of keeping himself in check.

“You’re a fucking disgrace,” Liv spat at her.

“You need to leave.” Emily went to move forward, but Ryan held her back.

“Fuck off, Pam. Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage for tonight?” Ryan said, snaking his arm around Emily protectively.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” Brandon’s mother sneered, but she wasn’t smirking for long. Liv lurched forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her off the table.

“You’re upsetting my friends. Grow up, bitch, and get a fucking life.”

Brandon’s mother just swayed on her feet and cackled at the way Liv was manhandling her.

“Worst thing I ever did was have him. I should’ve aborted him when his dad gave me the money for it. I could’ve done us all a favour.”

The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of her and my hand connected with her face. She reeled backwards and covered her cheek, scowling over at me.

“What was that for?”

For being the biggest piece of shit as a human and a mother.

For destroying your son’s life.

For ever showing your face in Sandland.

For still breathing.

I didn’t get a chance to say my piece though. The girls, Ryan, Brandon, Zak, and Finn stood in front of me like they were my protection, and a doorman marched over, ready to read us all the riot act.

“Okay, Pam. Party’s over. Come on. I’ve got a taxi waiting out the back for you,” the doorman said, giving Brandon a sympathetic look.

“Why the back? You’re such a spoil sport,” Brandon’s mother slurred. Her eyes were glazing over, and I felt sure she’d probably already forgotten the scene she’d just created, she was that drunk.

“’Cos I don’t want you putting off any more of our customers.” The doorman sighed, and as he started to lead her off, she stumbled into him and he caught her as she almost fell to the floor.

“You could take me back to yours,” she said, grinning up at him as he held her up by his side. “I could do that thing you like with my tongue.”

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