Page 31 of Hunt for You
“There you go.”
“See you next week.”
“Maybe.”
But the way my heart was pumping, it was possible.
Especially if Cain made me wait.
Just to piss Kash off, I sat through three ginger beers, talking to Art and flirting with the drunks who passed through.
The panic that had settled under my skin had passed—mostly. The interaction with Ronald and the potential of that whole situation helped a lot. If Cain didn’t make contact, I had something to distract me.
For a second, I saw Gerald in my head, taking off his glasses and shaking his head, his lips puckered like he’d tasted something sour as he tried to come up with the right words to express his exasperation. But I pushed the image away because he might get parts of me, but he didn’t understand this.
Then a shadow moved to my left and I snapped my head around, my heart racing—only to find Georgio, the mob guy’s thug, leaning on the bar, smiling at me.
Well, shit.
“Hey, B. You look great tonight.”
“George,” I said dryly without looking at him. “You look exactly the same as you always do.”
“Thanks, babe,” he beamed and I had to turn away to take another swig from my third ginger beer to hide the eye roll. Poor Georgio was very big, and very strong, and not very smart.
He turned so his shoulder pressed up against mine and tipped his chin to Kash to order a drink. I shifted my seat so weweren’t pressed together and suddenly became very aware that I was going to need to use the disgusting ladies room.
I always waited—or skipped those little trips if I could—because so few women frequented this place, we were lucky if Kash threw a mop around it once a week.
I’d taken it on myself for three years to restock toilet paper and wipe down the sinks every time I visited. But my bladder was swelling to near-painful proportions, which meant I was going to have tousethe bathroom before I cleaned it. And that was going to be gross.
Better than wetting on my stool, though.
When Georgio got his Italian soda and warning look from Kash—because he was both a walking clichéandresponsible for the mob man’s wellbeing, which apparently he took very seriously—he took a sip, then grinned at me.
“It’s good to see you, beautiful. You feeling better?”
That panic under my skin gave a crackle, and I launched off the stool. “You’ll have to excuse me, I need to pee. Kash, can you make sure George doesn’t touch my drink. I don’t feel like swimming with the fishes tonight.”
Kash nodded once and George snorted. But I was fleeing. I felt eyes on my back and knew Sid was still over there watching.
Would he come after me? The little hallway down to the bathrooms was almost entirely black because the bare overhead bulb had been broken and Kash didn’t care enough to replace it.
I looked over my shoulder, tracked that Sid was far enough away he couldn’t get to me before I got through the door I could lock, so the only real danger would be when I came back.
The bitch in me smiled at him, made sure he caught it, then turned away and hurried into the little black hallway and pushed open the sticky door into the ladies, whirling to lock it, then darted to the first stall because if I didn’t I might actually piss my pants.
A couple minutes later, relieved, but still battling a small wave of panic, I washed my hands, then found the wipes and stuff under the sink and busied myself with removing the worst of the grime from around the faucets and the edge of the sink.
I couldn’t bring myself to touch those toilets though, so after putting an extra roll of toilet paper in each stall, I just washed my hands again and checked my reflection in the freckled, cracked mirror, then took a deep breath.
The hallway outside this door was approximately fifteen feet long. The first ten feet or so were pitch black except for the light that came out from under the bathroom doors. When I opened it, I’d get a couple seconds of light, but lowered visibility because of the sudden change in brightness—then it would go pitch black and I’d be aiming for the place where the hallway opened to the main bar, whichwouldhave some light, though dim.
If Sid was coming for me, he’d do the smart thing and hidebehindthe bathroom since I’d walk out looking towards the bar.
I smiled and cracked my knuckles.Come at me, bro.I stood for a few seconds with my eyes closed so my retinas wouldn’t be confused by the sudden change in light, then unlocked the door and strode out into the black, the skin on the back of my neck prickling as I darted towards the bar, but half-turned to see if I could make out anything coming for me from the other direction.
It all happened so fast, I’m not sure I breathed.