He slammed down his whiskey glass on the smooth wooden bar. Dried blood stuck to the grooves of his aching knuckles.
“Want some ice for that?” The barmaid asked standing in the shadows of the dimly lit tavern running a towel between her hands.
He glanced down at his hand, opening and closing his fist. “Nah, it'll be gone soon enough.”
“You sure?” she asked walking closer, pulling a small bottle from her apron and sliding it the small distance to him.
“Where did you get this?” He said grabbing it, his gruff voice coming out harsh and fast.
She shrugged. “Does it matter?” She dropped her voice to barely above a whisper and leaned in, snatching it back out of his hand. “I know who you are, and I know you need it or you wouldn't be bleeding at all. Take it or leave it. I know what kind of price I can get.” She nodded to the rest of the men in the stuffy room.
“You start telling people what you have, and you'll be dead by morning.”
She took a step back, returned it to her pocket, and crossed her arms.
He lowered his gaze to her apron. She was right. He needed it more than she knew. An itch grew in his chest and he coughed a little into hand, blood splattering his palm. He wiped it off on his pants and looked back up.
“How much you want?” He asked.
“Nothing.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Just take me as far as Wolfpine.”
He snorted a short, gravelly laugh. “I'll give you 10 gold pieces and you find your own way.”
“I don't need your gold, I need an escort.” She tucked a loose strand of dark brown hair back into her ponytail. Her thick leather bracelet slid slightly revealing a small tattoo. He readjusted in his seat.
“Fine,” he said. “I'll take you, but once we get there, we go our separate ways. What's your name?”
“Bexley.”
Thanks so much for sharing this with me! This was a prompt from a few days ago, but I was having internet troubles! In the past I would have moved on without posting, but I really liked this one! For more info on freewrites visit @mariannewest!
