Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I vowed after filing for divorce and having it granted within a month and a half of his arrest that I'd live a better life. I had no idea what he was involved in, but you couldn't tell the folks in our hometown that after his face became front-page news of the little gazette they printed back in Kentucky. The fact that I was never arrested or even interviewed by local authorities wasn't proof enough to keep them from openly tagging me in social media posts, looking for gossip.
When I left that place, I knew I'd never be able to show my face there again, but it was okay. Tommy, Billy’s estranged older brother, offered me refuge, a place to work where no one knew of Billy and the shame he brought on himself.
As I climb out of my car, facing yet another day working as a bartender in this tiny bar, I draw the same conclusion that I did before I ever accepted Tommy's offer. There's a very real chance that Tommy was also involved in dealing drugs, and after the whispered conversation he was having last week in the back room, I believe that is more possible now than ever.
I sigh as I look up at the simple neon sign. The Lost Kitten. What a name for a damn bar.
If I had any other options, I wouldn't be here, but it is what it is. I know it's temporary. I'll work here long enough to save up some cash so I can get a little further from my past than a couple hundred miles. I hear Montana is beautiful, and the population in some places is so sparse that people keep to themselves. After the last couple of months, solitude is exactly what I'm looking for.
The sight of the motorcycle parked on the far side of the parking lot sends a little thrill up my spine, and I should know better. Getting involved with the man who was considered a bad boy back home is exactly what had me working in the mountains at a bar owned by my ex-brother-in-law. Not that all men who ride motorcycles are bad guys or live a dangerous life other than risking the chance of sudden death every time they crank one of those things. The Lost Kitten gets its fair share of locals, but strangers are spread a little further between visits around here.
It makes me think of the surly guy from two nights ago. I wouldn't doubt that he's trouble with a capital T, but a man who comes in mid-shift on a Thursday is unlikely to still be around on Saturday.
I shove that same damn piece of stray hair back behind my ear, wishing I hadn't done the typical thing after signing my divorce papers. I never should've cut my hair because it's been nothing but a hassle since I did it.
I put a wide smile on my face, the one I use to hide the fact that my life is a complete mess, before tugging open the heavy door.
I nod at the couple sitting in the corner, at the exact location where the surly guy was sitting the other night, noting that we may have trouble out of them since Roger is drinking whiskey instead of smiling over a beer with his wife. He and Norma are both alcoholics who love to settle their marital dissatisfaction for all the damn town to see.
My smile widens when I approach the far end of the bar, seeing Edith scurry around. The woman has to be in her late seventies. Although she's always utterly exhausted at the end of every shift she works, she still shows up to open the next day. I'd rather someone shoot me in the head than have to work that late in my life, but then again, maybe this is what keeps her going.
"Been busy?" I ask, honest cheerfulness in my tone.
Edith is a lovely woman. Well, I find her funny, but I don't think her grumpy demeanor is meant to be taken that way.
Her eyes spark when she sees me, and I allow myself to believe it's because she likes me rather than the more likely truth that she's glad I'm here so she can get off her feet.
"It's never busy, but you can't tell my old bones that. I'm exhausted." She finishes wiping down the bar top before slapping her bar towel over her shoulder. "New guy showed up. I doubt he'll tip well. Seems like a giant asshole to me."
I have to chuckle as she angles her head toward the back wall of the bar. I can't be the only one who thinks it's hilarious when old people cuss.
My laughter dies away when I glance over and take in who she's talking about. It's the mystery guy from the other night, and his eyes are locked on me.