Chapter 2 - The Puppy

CHAPTER 2: THE PUPPY

I skipped over to the bar but stopped short when I noticed Portia with her hand in an ice bucket.

"Catfight?" I hopped onto one of the stools, failing to put my skirt underneath my butt. That would leave a wet mark.

"Nope." She grimaced when the bartender added more ice.

"Dish, girl." With my elbows on the bar, I stared at her.

"She knocked a guy out." The young guy behind the bar grinned.

"Why?" I wasn't surprised. She'd done it before, but with good reason.

"He tried to roofie my drink." She shrugged. "Police are on the way." The words had barely left her mouth when a burly constable with his lips pressed thin approached.

"Where is he?" he barked.

"Over here," someone called from the left side of the bar.

He rushed over. The surprise on his face when he glanced down had me turning my head to hide my smile. The ass was probably still down for the count.

Portia taught kickboxing at our local gym.

The constable glanced between the guy on the floor and Portia's hand in the ice bucket.

She arched a brow, to which he crossed his arms.

"Explain." He was a man of few words, it seemed.

"Tried to roofie me, so I knocked him out." She pointed at the offending drink, which she needed as evidence for her actions. Yes, we watched too many crime series. I was glad for it now, because her fists were lethal weapons, considering the guy was still out with a possible concussion.

The constable nodded at his colleague, who gingerly picked up the glass from the bottom and wasn't sure what to do with it, so he just held it.