4
Blue light from behind the bar illuminated a big man with a red goatee as he poured a shot of whiskey. The music was too loud, the air stuffy, and there were people all over the damn place. But right then, none of that mattered.
Ben looked up, his mouth stretching into a smile. “Excellent,” he said with a nod. “How 'bout another?”
Before the other man could say one word, he grabbed the shot glass, brought it to his lips and chugged it back. It burned on the way down – good whiskey should have a kick – but that only made him feel more invigorated.
The bartender smiled, shaking his head. “I guess you're having a little celebration tonight.” He retrieved another shot glass, filled it with whiskey and left it there for Ben. “Anything in particular?”
“Freedom, my friend.”
“Bad breakup?”
