"Eugene, I'm telling you one more time. I don't need you here. Just go home," Lydia's tone grew more impatient.

She had come out late to have a drink, clear her mind, and ease her frustrations, not to have Eugene hovering around, nagging her endlessly.

Eugene, however, didn't budge. Instead, he sat down beside her and opened a bottle of beer for himself.

"If you want to drink, then I'll drink with you. Whenever you've had enough and want to go home, I'll take you."

Lydia found herself at a loss for words. Suddenly, she no longer felt like drinking. She placed the bottle aside and looked at the men and women swaying wildly in the dance floor under the neon lights.

How she wished Quincy was the one beside her right now.

"Lydia, how about we head over and dance for a bit?" Eugene offered.

Quincy. That man really was everywhere, like a shadow that refused to disappear. Or maybe it was

cut that connection. He wanted

"You go ahead. I just want to sit for a

want to dance with you. I'm not even interested in looking at anyone else." Eugene scooted closer to her, closing

as if testing the waters, his fingers

fingertips were about to touch, Lydia

Eugene thought she was angry

going to get some juice. I'll be right back. No need to follow me,

pulled out the jewelry he had bought earlier,

her way to the bar. As she moved, a man sidled up to her, trying to

wasn't one to tolerate

man's hand and then, with her high heel, stomped on his foot with all her might, grinding the heel in for good measure. Her stiletto was sharp and deadly, nearly crushing the

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