Page 8 of Run

Knew that giving in to it was the path to certain destruction.

Which was why I had run before.

Why I would run again now.

Because Vincent was the only thing that could take me off my path.

Not my mother who I loved so deeply, my sister who had been my best friend. Only Vincent. He made me want to be Giovanna. And Giovanna was the one thing I could never allow myself to be.

“One more, Kelly,” Gage called.

His words were slurred, and even from across the bar, I could see the glassy sheen in his eyes.

I filled the mug anyway, but with ginger ale. Gage was too far gone to notice. If left to his own devices, he would die of alcohol poisoning, and if that happened, his father would hold someone else accountable. So part of my job was to make sure that Gage didn’t drink himself to death.

“Here you go, sweetie,” I said as I sat the glass in front of him.

I went to move away, but he grabbed my wrist.

“You serious?” he said, his alcohol-heavy breath wafting toward me.

“About what?” I asked, painting that empty-headed, confused-girl expression on my face. I also tried to extract my wrist from his hand. His meaty fingers were so tight around it I could feel the heavy pressure in my bones. Even though he was drunk off his ass, he was surprisingly strong.

“About not spending time with me. You should consider yourself lucky,” he slurred.

“Sorry, Gage,” I said, torn between rolling my eyes at his arrogance and recoiling in fear at how out of control he seemed. I settled on neutral and looked at him, my face blank.

“I’m gonna change your mind,” he replied.

I heard the conviction in his voice, felt it in the way he squeezed my wrist tight. But I tried to play it off.

Giovanna would have kicked him directly in the balls for daring touch her, but “Kelly” could do no such thing. So, wishing I had paid more attention to my mother’s subtle, understated lessons in conflict resolution, I plastered a big, dopey smile on my face and stared down at him.

“You know there’s a rule against that,” I said.

I smiled a little bit brighter, hoping that the chipper, cheerful facade was convincing.

It was bad enough that I had somehow gotten Gage’s attention. Probably just an offshoot of being one of the few female bartenders who had yet to become a notch on his belt, which I most assuredly would not be, there was no way I would risk the kind of attention that an entanglement with him would bring.

Those were reasons to end this now, but there was another, more pressing reason as well.

I was not a diplomatic person. Not at all. But Vincent…

Compared to him I was the model of restraint. And things had changed over the years, but not so much that I wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t come over momentarily and break Gage’s hand, do much worse, for having touched me.

If Vincent intervened, my cover would be blown. There would be questions, ones I couldn’t answer. Everything I’d worked for hung in the balance. I knew that, felt it in the nervous pit of my stomach, the erratic beat of my heart. I needed to maintain my composure and get away, but between Gage’s tight fist and Vincent’s eyes at my back, I felt as trapped as I once had a long time ago.

I couldn’t force the issue, not without escalating the situation, so I kept my eyes on Gage, the friendly smile on my face. “What can I say? Rules are rules.” I brightened my smile, thought I would be sick.

“You sure?” Gage asked.

The words came out almost like a threat, but I ignored that and instead smiled even brighter. My cheeks were starting to strain from the exaggerated expression, but I needed to manage this before it got out of control.

“Yeah,” I said.

He held my wrist for a second longer, and the pressure increased ever so slightly. Then, he finally let go.

I smiled again, but this time, I made sure not to scurry back behind the bar.