Magical Sex Potion - Chapter 122 Get Lost. For Good

“How can you say that? Melvin, I fucked up, I know! But… but… give me another chance, and you’ll see, that I’ll fix everything. It’ll be the opposite of what it was before. We can work things out, I’m sure of it!” Abigail cried.

Melvin wiped his mouth and gave her a wry smile.

“Abby, you’re married. What about your family?” he responded with a disappoving shake of his head.

“Fuck them! I want YOU!” she said. Her eyes went all fiery in the red blinking lights from the stage. Abigail pressed closer and snuggled against Melvin’s chest, but he pushed her forcefully back with his free hand, hard enough that Abigail wobbled on her feet, almost losing her balance. One hand stayed in her purse as she steadied herself with the other, grabbing the bar.

“See? That’s why it’ll never work out. You never think of anyone but yourself,” Melvin replied, finished off his beer and thumped the empty mug against the counter. He surveyed his ex wife with cold eyes.

“Get lost. For good,” he said over his shoulder as he turned his back on her.

Abigail’s mouth gaped open, and her lips began to tremble in angry rejection. Red heat flushed through her cheeks. She attempted to set herself in the right frame of mind, to have some comeback or put down to shock Melvin back in his submissive place, but nothing came. Instead, she felt her fingers close around the handle of her gun, and her rising internal temperature come to a boil.

Joey watched her expression and the hand in her purse with a cool steady gaze. He’d seen his share of hysterical women over the years.

Abigail despised the cliché coming out of her mouth even as she began to say it, her mouth opening and spitting out the words, “Melvin MacMuffin, if I can’t have you…”

She started to lift her hand out of her purse. The grip of the gun was cold and hard in her sweaty palm. Melvin’s head turned, and his eyes widened in fear. He’d seen this scene enough in movies to know what was going to come out of her purse. The blonde bartender had just walked up to refill Melvin’s glass, and her face went slack as she saw what was happening.

“The fuck…” the blonde began to say. Melvin caught a glimpse of gray as the gun rose from Abby’s purse.

“No one w…” Abigail continued but was cut off as Joey Dangerfield caught her wrist while it was still in her purse, twisted the gun and purse out of her grip, and swiftly caught her in the gut with a punch before she could scream in pain.

Abigail’s breath rushed out of her with a whimper, and she crumpled into Joey’s arms, her heaving sobs muffled by his biceps.

“Let’s get her out of here,” Joey said, basically carrying Abigail in his arms and away from the crowd.

“Through the back,” the blonde bartender said, pointing them in the direction with her hands. Melvin followed Joey, his heart thudding against his chest. Everything seemed surreal. Like a waking dream. Was all of this an effect of the witch’s potion or was it all really happening?

Had Abigail just tried to kill him?