Page 3 of Run
Most days I was able to keep up with the fiction, pretend that Giovanna was gone, pretend that the life of pampered privilege, one that had been bought with the blood and tears of others was gone.
Yet…somehow I always managed to find myself in a place like this, around people like Gage.
Maybe there was something about me, something that drew me to this life. Being in places like this came too easily to me. Seeing these people, all the things they did, didn’t scare me. Didn’t disgust me. If anything, it excited me, made my mind spin with ideas, things I could change to improve the operation, things I would do differently.
Never, not once, did I think of how I would stop it.
And that was the cold truth I’d never been able to escape, one that no matter how far I went, I would never outrun.
This life, it was in my bones, in my being. Deep down, I knew it always would be. I stopped wiping the bar and froze, my thoughts bringing me up short. I turned my attention to the woman who still sat at the bar.
“Need a refill?” I asked.
Outside of that single sip, she hadn’t even touched her vodka cranberry, confirming my suspicions that she wasn’t here for a drink. It still wasn’t my business, but I needed a distraction and maybe talking to her would provide it. If it had the added benefit of keeping her from doing something she’d regret, all the better.
“No. I-I’m fine,” she said.
When she spoke, she made eye contact, another fact that confirmed she was out of her depth. She blinked and then looked away, but I’d seen her nerves, her fear, her excitement. I walked closer.
“You come here often?” I asked.
She jumped, then looked at me again, the beginnings of a nervous smile on her face.
“Umm…no. It’s my first time,” she said.
“No kidding?” I replied, adding what I hoped was a warm smile to maybe take some of the sting out. Because all of a sudden I was angry, something that her expression told me she hadn’t missed.
“Am I that obvious?” she asked, smiling nervously, her voice trembling.
“Yes,” I replied flatly.
“Uh, I… This place just looked interesting…” she said, trailing off as she again glanced at my face.
Interesting. What a fucking moron. I stayed silent watching her and reminding myself that she wasn’t my problem, that my anger was completely unjustified. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know any better, that she didn’t treasure her obvious lack of comfort with this kind of place and these kinds of people.
It wasn’t her fault that I couldn’t let my own comfort go.
“Yeah. Interesting. Let me know if you need another drink,” I said, walking away from the woman, though leaving did nothing to lift my own sour mood.
I kept my eyes on the bar, careful not to make eye contact or pay attention to any one person for too long. I was in no mood to talk, was more pissed than I cared to admit. But despite my best intentions, I looked at the woman from the corner of my eye. Felt some of the anger leave me when she stood and made her way to the door, leaving the bar without speaking to anyone.
Good.
She had no business here.
“You chasing new customers away, Kelly?”
I barely, just barely, managed to keep myself from groaning. I’d seen Gage coming toward the bar, but hoped beyond hope that he would leave me alone.
No such luck.
I plastered that stupid smile on my face and looked at him.
“I wouldn’t do that, Gage. New customers give the best tips,” I said, trying to infuse my voice with a warmth and buoyancy I didn’t feel.
“Tips?” he said, incredulous, his voice slurring. “You wouldn’t have to worry about tips if you opened your fucking eyes to other opportunities.”
His voice was flinty, a mix of anger, frustration, and disbelief combining in an ominous, almost guttural sound. One I completely ignored.