Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 05 - The Devil's Breath by Emily Kimelman Page A
Authors: Emily Kimelman
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“Another,” I mouthed to the bartender and gently tapped the bar with my pointer finger. She handed over two beers to a customer and then returned to me, tequila bottle in hand. A guy leaned too close to me and Blue growled, causing the man to jump back, hands up to his chest, baseball cap coming askew. “Whoa,” he laughed. “That dog is cute.”
“He bites,” I said, looking up at him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled before stepping back into the crowded push of bodies.
The bartender leaned against the bar, careful not to touch its sticky surface. “You’re not very good at making friends,” she said, her lips close to my ear.
I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re right,” I answered. She held my gaze, her eyes were green and lined with black charcoal that bled into the thin lines beneath her bottom lashes, mingling with sweat from the hard work she did. “Do you want to be my friend?” I asked, feeling bold.
She smiled and shrugged a bare shoulder. “I get off at 4. Let’s see if you’re still around.” Then she returned her attention to the clamoring patrons who pushed against the bar, arms out, dollars fisted, brows red with excitement, alcohol, and dance. I shot the tequila and left the glass sitting on a $100 bill, then slipped back into the crowd, Blue following me like a tail.
On the street, crowds of people smoked and laughed. I turned off the main drag and into a quieter lane. I stepped around a large puddle that looked like a muddy mirror until Blue stepped right in it. “Oh, come on,” I said, looking down at his brown paws. “Every puddle, Blue, every puddle?” He looked up at me, not seeing the problem. I began to walk again but Blue’s growl stopped me. I turned to see three figures coming around the corner. In the lead was a short, curvy girl, a peroxide blonde wearing a bronze spray tan and a hot pink mini dress. It squeezed her under the arms causing small rolls of fat to pop out. Her breasts did a bit of popping, too.
She stopped several yards away from me, her girlfriends fanning out in some kind of tableau of a western movie street scene. They, too, wore club clothes and bare feet. I wondered, for a moment, what they did with their heels until I noticed pinky was holding a knife. Tiny and silly, she held it out in the light, showing it off, as though Blue and I might find her intimidating.
“Are you actually planning on fighting me and my dog?” I asked them, noticing a small slur in my speech.
“If that dog bites us, he’ll be put down,” she said and then brought her lips together into a little kiss. They were smudged with red lipstick like she’d been making out right before coming out here to kick my ass.
“Did you just threaten my dog?” I asked, adrenaline chasing the slur from my words. Something in my tone and the coldness in my eyes made her falter. “How about you just apologize,” I said, “and we can all continue with our night.”
“No, no,” she said, taking two indignant, heavy steps that sounded big but didn’t close the space between us. “You’ll apologize to me for what your dog did to my man!”
I could not help but laugh. She stared at me and her two friends exchanged glances. “Sorry,” I managed to say. “That is just too funny. I feel like I’m on a reality show. Do you ever watch those? They are always having crazy fights on the street and pulling each other’s hair out.” My phone rang but I didn’t take my eyes off the girl in front of me. “Are you going to try to rip out my hair now?” She rocked back and forth, switching her weight from one foot to the other. “You’ll have to get closer,” I told her. She chewed on her bottom lip, scraping off the last of the red lipstick clinging there.
“Fuck it,” I said, and in two easy steps closed the distance between us. Extending my left arm, turning my body sideways to narrow her target area, I grabbed a clump of
“Another,” I mouthed to the bartender and gently tapped the bar with my pointer finger. She handed over two beers to a customer and then returned to me, tequila bottle in hand. A guy leaned too close to me and Blue growled, causing the man to jump back, hands up to his chest, baseball cap coming askew. “Whoa,” he laughed. “That dog is cute.”
“He bites,” I said, looking up at him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled before stepping back into the crowded push of bodies.
The bartender leaned against the bar, careful not to touch its sticky surface. “You’re not very good at making friends,” she said, her lips close to my ear.
I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re right,” I answered. She held my gaze, her eyes were green and lined with black charcoal that bled into the thin lines beneath her bottom lashes, mingling with sweat from the hard work she did. “Do you want to be my friend?” I asked, feeling bold.
She smiled and shrugged a bare shoulder. “I get off at 4. Let’s see if you’re still around.” Then she returned her attention to the clamoring patrons who pushed against the bar, arms out, dollars fisted, brows red with excitement, alcohol, and dance. I shot the tequila and left the glass sitting on a $100 bill, then slipped back into the crowd, Blue following me like a tail.
On the street, crowds of people smoked and laughed. I turned off the main drag and into a quieter lane. I stepped around a large puddle that looked like a muddy mirror until Blue stepped right in it. “Oh, come on,” I said, looking down at his brown paws. “Every puddle, Blue, every puddle?” He looked up at me, not seeing the problem. I began to walk again but Blue’s growl stopped me. I turned to see three figures coming around the corner. In the lead was a short, curvy girl, a peroxide blonde wearing a bronze spray tan and a hot pink mini dress. It squeezed her under the arms causing small rolls of fat to pop out. Her breasts did a bit of popping, too.
She stopped several yards away from me, her girlfriends fanning out in some kind of tableau of a western movie street scene. They, too, wore club clothes and bare feet. I wondered, for a moment, what they did with their heels until I noticed pinky was holding a knife. Tiny and silly, she held it out in the light, showing it off, as though Blue and I might find her intimidating.
“Are you actually planning on fighting me and my dog?” I asked them, noticing a small slur in my speech.
“If that dog bites us, he’ll be put down,” she said and then brought her lips together into a little kiss. They were smudged with red lipstick like she’d been making out right before coming out here to kick my ass.
“Did you just threaten my dog?” I asked, adrenaline chasing the slur from my words. Something in my tone and the coldness in my eyes made her falter. “How about you just apologize,” I said, “and we can all continue with our night.”
“No, no,” she said, taking two indignant, heavy steps that sounded big but didn’t close the space between us. “You’ll apologize to me for what your dog did to my man!”
I could not help but laugh. She stared at me and her two friends exchanged glances. “Sorry,” I managed to say. “That is just too funny. I feel like I’m on a reality show. Do you ever watch those? They are always having crazy fights on the street and pulling each other’s hair out.” My phone rang but I didn’t take my eyes off the girl in front of me. “Are you going to try to rip out my hair now?” She rocked back and forth, switching her weight from one foot to the other. “You’ll have to get closer,” I told her. She chewed on her bottom lip, scraping off the last of the red lipstick clinging there.
“Fuck it,” I said, and in two easy steps closed the distance between us. Extending my left arm, turning my body sideways to narrow her target area, I grabbed a clump of
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