Why couldn’t be him instead? Tears started pouring down my eyes. I didn’t even realize I was crying until the guy stopped dancing. “Why are you...crying?” Two seconds later out of nowhere Mark shows up, he held the guy by his shirt almost tearing it a part. “What did you do to her asshole?!” He was on the edge of hitting him, when I stopped him. “Marc don’t! This has nothing to do with him!” He drags me into a room, shuts the door, and starts yelling at me. “Eva! Why are you crying?! If. It was a small dump of a place, dark with a rounded bar, glasses hanging from the ceiling. Imbedded in the counter of the bar were quarters under plexi-glass. You could see how drunks would try and pry them out at times. In the front window was a neon sign of a pink cat in a rhinestone collar. There were a few small tables on each side of the walls. On Friday nights they sold fish 'n' chips to the hard working guys who came in. Other than that you could grab a sandwich and a bag of potato chips. More

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