Free You Can See Me by A. E. Via Page B

very close to his ear, making Pres jerk away. His feminine lisp told Pres that he definitely didn’t want his kind of help.
    “Okay, Vikki. Fine. You’ve succeeded in humiliating me, and rest assured, I will not bother you again…ever. Will you just show me to the bathroom and walk with me out of this bar so I can hail a cab, and you’ll never see me again.”
    Pres could feel the heat in his face, he was so angry. He didn’t want to go to the bathroom on himself, and he feared if he didn’t get there soon, then those four beers and glasses of wine were going to come out whether he liked it or not.
    “I don’t know why the hell you’re treating me like this. Why would you treat anyone like this? I thought we were togeth—” Pres stopped talking. “Forget it. That doesn’t matter anymore. Just show me to the bathroom, and I’ll call a cab.”
    “Oh, go on with Danni. He’ll take good care of you.” She laughed some more.
    “I don’t fucking know him, Vikki. And I sure as hell don’t need him to hold my dick while I piss. Look, don’t be a bitch, okay? The least you could do—”
    His angry sentence was abruptly cut off by a hard slap across his face.
    “Augh. Fuck!” Pres yelled as he held one side of his face waiting for the ringing in his head to subside. Vikki had hit him so hard across his cheek that he saw bright lights as his head snapped to the side.
    “Don’t you ever call me a bitch! Find your own way home. I hope your blind ass left a trail of bread crumbs. Don’t think I didn’t see that you canceled the payment on my Visa this month. I have no further use for you, Pres. Now get out of my damn face!” She shoved him backward—hard—sending his arms windmilling wildly. He couldn’t recover fast enough as he toppled over a low table a few feet behind him, knocking himself and all of its contents to the floor.
    He heard people gasping, but no one came to help him. He was in a heap of broken glass and alcohol. He put his right hand on the ground to pick himself up and felt a sharp piece of glass go into his flesh. He yanked his hand back quickly and could feel the blood running from the very tender gash. He wanted to call out for help, but figured it futile.
    “All right, buddy. Out ya go. You’ve caused enough trouble in here for one night.” Pres felt a beefy hand wrap around his arm and haul him off the floor.
    “Are you shitting me? I was just assaulted. I want to press charges,” Pres argued. He was angry and so embarrassed for being beat up by a woman he could scream.
    “Did anyone see this man get assaulted?” The bouncer’s deep voice bellowed into the room.
    There were several nos, and one person nearby yelled, “He actually assaulted her.” The insults and rants rang out of the crowd as Pres was shoved toward the front door.
    “Get the hell out of here, and don’t come back. We don’t take kindly to men assaulting women in this fine establishment.”
    I have to be dreaming this nightmare.
    The man shoved Pres again, making him hit the side of his head against the entrance to the door as he stumbled out onto the busy sidewalk.
    “Goddamn it! Take it easy. I can’t fucking see, man.” Pres turned his head back toward the club. The once-blaring music now sounded muffled. It was safe to assume the bouncer had closed himself back inside.
    Shit.
    Pres didn’t know how big the sidewalk was or how far he was from the curb. So he put his hands out a little in front of him and moved forward. He took a couple steps and felt a burly man stumble over his feet and holler in his face.
    “Hey, watch where you’re going, dipshit.”
    Shit, shit, shit.
    Pres’s injured hand was throbbing. The part of his head that had come into contact with the club door was surely showing a nice bruise now. He didn’t know if the glass was still in his hand or not. All he knew was that it hurt like hell. The tears were flowing down his face from anger, but he still felt like a pussy. No