Page 2 of Run

“Thank you,” she finally replied as she held my gaze for a moment longer than necessary. Then she slid a twenty across the bar.

A generous tip, and a conspicuous one. Even with the money, most of it illegal, that flowed through this place, a tip that big was hard to come by. I looked at the woman again, reassessing her. She was out of place, and I was surprised I’d missed her before. Probably too preoccupied by Gage to notice, but I saw her now.

This happened sometimes, nice, normal girls like her who decided to walk on the wild side. At least twice a month, we got bachelorette parties looking to drink, flirt, maybe do a little more. Not much I could do except make sure things didn’t get too rowdy, but I didn’t pay too much attention.

But sometimes, women like her would come alone. Those, I kept an even closer eye on. I could see the energy around them, loneliness, restlessness, maybe just plain boredom. The others could see it too. Those women were easy targets, and the people who came to this bar wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage.

I looked at the woman, saw her shyly take a sip of her drink, her eyes darting around the bar as she did. Just as I suspected. She was looking for excitement. She should have gone to an amusement park.

I considered what to say to her, whether I should say anything at all.

Not my problem, I decided.

I grabbed the twenty and hurriedly made my way to the other end of the bar, moving smoothly on my high heels. For just a moment, I thought of how amused my sister would be by that. I had always been the tomboy, leaving dresses and heels and pretty, girly things to my sister and mother.

But times had changed, more than I ever would have thought possible.

On instinct, I tried to pull the way too short skirt down my mostly bare thighs. It didn’t budge. I’d thought I’d gotten used to walking around showing far more skin than I would have naturally, but I still sometimes slipped into that old habit. Did so again when I reached for the edge of the halter top that was barely holding my breasts in place. I stilled my hand, though, knowing I would probably do more harm than good.

It had taken me forever to get into these clothes. I couldn’t just slide into them like the well-worn jeans and sneakers I preferred. The clothes were just a part of the job. A part of the new life I was still creating for myself. A part of the role I played. It wasn’t comfortable, but it allowed me to pass from place to place unseen, and most importantly, undiscovered.

Hard to believe that a bright red lace halter top and miniskirt were what passed for hiding, especially when my breasts were barely covered and one wrong move would have shown even more of my thighs.

But that was my life now, showing far more of my body than I cared to, willing to make that sacrifice if it meant people wouldn’t try to look past the surface.

“Kelly! Two beers!”

I stood still for a split second longer than I should have. I still hadn’t quite gotten used to being called Kelly. But Kelly was who I was now, and after that half-second pause, I grabbed two beer mugs and filled them and then walked to Gage’s table.

He watched every step I took, and the closer I got to him, the more unnerved I became. The others annoyed me, the way they leered at me like I was dinner, like they had the right to. Gage’s look was different.

Yeah, he openly stared at my breasts, tended to get a little handsy, but that wasn’t of particular worry. The times like now, though, were much, much worse. His eyes never left my face. I could see he was studying me, probably wondered why I continued to turn him down.

Probably wondered how long he would continue to let me.

I dropped the mugs off at Gage’s table, and slipped away as fast as I could.

When I was safely behind the bar again, I watched the crowd. The place wasn’t full yet, probably wouldn’t be for a few hours more, but I recognized most of the faces. I also knew that to untrained eyes this would appear to be just a dive bar.

Most people wouldn’t see that the seemingly casual conversations over sloppy games of pool were something else, something more sinister.

I almost laughed at that thought, but instead wiped at the bar.

These years away had made me soft.

This place, these people, wanted to be sinister.

Tried so hard to be.

Which wasn’t to say that they weren’t capable of violence. All of them likely were. But that didn’t mean they were real, authentic, even a hint of what they thought they wanted to be.

Had my father come upon this place, he would have killed everyone in it, probably stayed long enough to drink a beer after, and not have batted an eyelash.

As for the “business” they conducted with such sincerity, he would have laughed.

I flinched, something that was an uncontrollable reaction when I thought of him. I tried very hard not to do that, think of him, think of any of them, but I sometimes failed. Again, as I did so often, I reminded myself that I had left Giovanna Carmelli behind, buried her and her past so deep that I’d never see them again. I might not have gotten used to being “Kelly” yet, but I wasn’t Giovanna.

Not anymore.