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Bee

Several years later

"Woo! Let's party!"

The men at the bar laugh and toss back the shot that I've bought everyone. Rye and Barley is one of my favorite bars, but it hasn't always been like that. When I first started coming here it was nothing more than a dive bar. The owner has done a little renovating, added in a jukebox, and suddenly the flow of patrons has become a steady stream of what I like to call party animals.

My kind of people.

What's better is I rarely have to worry about getting home. I'm close enough to the clubhouse that if I do get too inebriated one of the girls can just ride down and get me.

I'm well on my way to having someone pick me up tonight.

I don't care though. I'm living my life and have a great time doing it.

"Damn, girl, you can really put it away." A man sitting next to me leans over to whisper in my ear. I lean back to get a good look at him. I'm not sure if it's because of the whiskey goggles I have on right now or what, but he's probably one of the finest men I've ever seen. He'll do just fine for tonight.

It's my process. I get fucked up, find a man to have some fun with, and usually wind up sneaking out of his house or the hotel some time in the early morning hours.

"I can put a lot of things away... you want to see?" I do my best to sound sexy but the words come out on a slight hiccup.

I'm so wasted right now.

"Fuck yeah. Let's go." Mr. Sexy man next to me says and instantly reaches for his wallet to pay the bill.

"Maybe you should wait for your girls tonight." A deeper more agitated voice barks in my direction and it takes me a minute to figure out where it's coming from. My head is turning slow at least that's what it seems like.

"What?" I question, finally looking across the bar.

I should know his name. I'm in here enough that I should really know the bartenders name.

"I said, I think you should wait for your girls to pick you up tonight." The bartender repeats while he tosses a white towel over his shoulder. Just to further accentuate his point he crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me.

On what world did he think that was going to work? That's not going to do anything besides make me want to go against his word even more. Didn't he know who I was. I'm Bumblebee, nothing is ever going to hold me down.

"Thanks for the advice, old timer, but I'm free to go wherever I want and right now it's with that hot piece of ass."

"Hot piece of ass?" The man to my side asks, puffing his chest out.

"Whatever." The bartender shakes his head and walks off toward the end of the bar.

I don't know why part of me is a little upset that it was so easy to get him to give up on me. As of recently, I feel like that's what everyone has been doing. As much as I hate to admit it even the girls down at the club have been doing little more than putting up with me.

Everyone is in their committed married phase, but not me. I'm still free as a bird with no intention of ever settling down. Not again. The last time I tried that it came back to bite me in the ass. I'll never forget the pain I went through with Cage.

Still, it wasn't until recently that I started coming to the bars every night on my own. Riot and Sugar used to come with me all the time but now they think the bar scene is played out. They want to do, what they call, more fulfilling activities. Turns out that means baking bread or target practice.

Boring shit if you ask me.

"Another round!" I shout and raise my hand so the bartender can stop pretending that he doesn't see me. He doesn't even have to ask what I want. He's already got my order memorized.

The grumpy bartender pours me another drink and with a shake of his head slides it in my direction before walking off and taking care of another customer.

"Nah, baby. You don't need another. We need to get out of here remember?" The man to my side reminds me and I'll admit I honestly did forget that I'd already made plans to leave. Oh well, one more drink isn't going to hurt.

I reach forward to grab the cup that's right in front of me. I miss. Damn I'm a little more wasted than I thought.

"Come on. I got you." The man grabs my hand and urges me from the bar stool I'm sitting on.

"Hold up. I need to pay my tab." I say as I fight to get my feet planted on the floor.

"Don't worry about it. I've got it." He smiles and wraps his arm around my waist. He's holding me tight. Too tightly.

"You sure?" I question trying to process what's going on.

"Yeah. It's all paid for." He nods his head and once again urges me forward.

"Oh...okay." I mumble and my stomach lurches upward. I have to put my hand on my mouth to keep the copious amounts of liquor from coming up.

I look over my shoulder and the world tilts on its side for a second before it rights itself and I stumble another few steps. The bartender isn't looking at me, but there are a few other drinkers who are. Instead of happiness, I can see pity in their eyes. Like they know something I don't. If I had enough control over my hands right now, I'd flip them all the bird. I don't need to be judged.

"Just a little further." The man to my side says but I have a feeling he's talking more to himself than to me.

Finally, we make it to the side entrance and the cool air sobers me up just a little bit. I'm still off my rocker drunk but certain aspects of the night clear up in my mind. One in particular is the fact that I definitely didn't see this man pay for any drinks. Not his own nor mine.

"I have to go back in and pay my tab." I slur.

"Baby, I already told you it's taken care of." His voice is a bit more tense, and he holds me tighter against his side.

"No, I didn't see. I have to make sure." I try to pull away from him, but he doesn't let me go. I come to this bar all the time. I don't want Mr. Grumpy pants behind the bar to ban me from coming because he thinks I skated on a bill.

"Just shut up about it will you."

Red flag.

"No, let me go. I'm going back inside." I try to pull away again. I don't have as much strength, but I do my best to push away from him.

"Fuck that. You made me a promise. I want to see what else you can put away. Like my cock in your mouth." He grits through clenched teeth.

What the fuck? I'm done with this.

Leaning forward I pull my arm up and slam my elbow back against his face. My aim is way off and I wind up hitting him in the cheek instead of in the nose like I wanted.

"You fucking bitch. You want it rough, so be it. I was going to be a fucking gentleman tonight, but you had to go and mess that up." He growls before he grabs my hair and yanks me back hard. Now instead of walking out toward the street, he's dragging me back into the alley near the side of the bar.

"No! Get off me!" I try to yell, but in that very second all the liquor I'd consumed decided to come back up. I try to lean forward but he's got such a tight hold on my hair that I can't. Most of the mess spills down the front of my shirt and onto the floor by my feet.

"You're a mess. That's okay, I like to get dirty." He chuckles, still pulling me backward.

I hack up some of the mess that is trying to slide its way back down my throat, but it's a lot. I'm struggling to breathe.

If I had any strength before this, it's all gone now.

"Come on, back here should be fine. No one is going to care about you anyway." Once again, he's talking more to himself than to me.

Shaking my head, I try to clear my brain from the liquor haze it's in, but I can't. I have to fight. Have to scream. I need help.

My feet bang against a large dumpster, and before I realize what's going on, I'm being thrown down to the floor. Instantly, I'm wet from whatever is on the pavement beneath me. I don't want to guess what I'm laying in, but from the smell I'm going to go with piss.

I struggle to get back up, finally getting up to my knees only to have him bring the back of his closed fist down across my face. The world spins faster and I fall backward.

This shit can't be happening. I've been trained and prepared for worse altercations. I know how to handle myself in a fight but for the life of me right now I can't get the upper hand. I'm too far gone.

I hear the telltale tinkle of his belt buckle opening up before he falls down on top of me, holding my hands with one of his and reaching for the button on my jeans with the other.

"No! Get off me! Stop!" I try to scream, but my voice is hoarse from the acid of my vomit.

Panic surges through me as I realize that I'm not going to be able to get out of this. He's too strong. I'm too drunk. It's a done deal.

When Free and I got away from the low life pimp who tricked us out, I promised myself that I'd never be a victim again and here I was back in the same position.

"Stop." I squeak out again but my head is spinning so violently now I'm not even sure what's going on. Did he start already? Are my pants off? Is he raping me?

"Hold still, and I won't hurt you." He puffs out, already out of breath.

I do my very best to do the exact opposite.

One second he's on top of me, yanking at my clothes and the next...he's gone.

Reality fades in and out but I manage to look up and see what's going on for a second.

A big man, built like a fucking bear has come to join the party. Except he's not focused on me he's focused on the man who was just trying to rape me. Bear has his hands up in a fighting position and I watch him swing with expert precision. Even in my drunken state I can hear the snap of his fist against the other guys face.

My attacker stumbles back a few steps, his pants tight around his thighs and blood pouring from his nose. I should get up and help but I can't move.

The bear of a man lunges forward again and I see the threat before it even happens but my instincts are slow. I can't get the word out to stop him.

The other guy has pulled a knife and is already slashing it through the air.

Bear shouts out in pain but doesn't fall back. Instead he watches my attacker with fierce eyes. Both of them at a standstill. That is until my attacker realizes he's not about to win this fight no matter what he's got in his hands.

Internally I want to jump for joy but the sweet relief of unconsciousness comes first.