Page 30 of Relapse

“M-Mr. Hansen?” the driver stammered. I shut the door behind myself, waving to him to leave.

I backtracked to the bar, seeing nothing out of the ordinary; no grand Rolls Royce, no Thorne entourage waiting for me. Was this a trick? Was Silas even here?

I entered the complex, finding my usual barstool near the front of the room. I glanced around. No one I knew was here. The bar was oddly quiet, a few sporadic groups clustered throughout the smaller tables away from the bar.

The familiar brunette bartender exhaled sharply at the sight of me. “You again?” She shook her head. “You’re here all the time.”

“It brings you business, doesn’t it?” I snapped, perhaps too rudely. I was already on edge and I didn’t really have the patience to deal with the whole “Aren’t you aware that this much alcohol is bad for you?” bit.

She didn’t look fazed by the sting in my tone. She simply shrugged and continued to wipe down the counter with a damp rag.

I scrolled through my phone once more.

No new calls.

No new messages.

“Waiting for someone?” The bartender questioned, pouring my normal shot of tequila from the top shelf. I hadn’t even asked for it.

I eyed the clear liquid hungrily.

I shook my head as she made herself comfortable in a stool on the other side of the counter, handing me the glass. “Not particularly,” I lied.

Without another thought, almost muscle memory, I downed the shot and sighed as the burn traveled down my throat, warming my chest.

I missed that.

The bartender propped her elbows on top of the counter, placing her face on her hands. “So, is there anything interesting going on in Hansen life?” she asked cutely.

I was still looking through my phone when I answered her. “There isn’t really anything exciting in my life.”

“I can’t imagine why not. Wasn’t that your dad on the news earlier? Apparently, your little ball is being investigated.”

My eyes met hers with a squint. Everyone always had questions. Everyone had something to say and add when it came to David’s mysterious attacker, and I was getting fed up with it. Why couldn’t they just leave me the hell out of it?

“What do you care? That doesn’t concern you.”

“Just making small talk since you’re practically paying my salary.” She winked.

Out of all of the times I came to this bar, the girl never once paid me more attention than necessary. Even during the times I was actually trying to bed her. Now, suddenly, her eyes were lit up like lights on a house during the holidays, flirting with me like it was life or death.

I analyzed her. Pretty lips. Huge tits.

Not sure if it was the lack of response from Delane, or just my normal urge to add another notch to my belt, but today, I went along with it.

Okay, little bar wench. I thought. I’ll bite.

I took out some money from my pocket. “Two more of the same, please.”

She took the money with a frown. “Fifty bucks? For two shots of tequila?”

“It’s your salary,” I replied with a smile, teasing.

She grinned and brought back the three shots instead. “One for me,” she licked her lips, holding the miniature glass up. “Cheers?”

I clinked my glass of liquor to hers, drinking the delicious intoxicant with one quick toss of my head. I reached for the last shot, when her hand stopped mine.

“Okay, so spill. You come here to drink often. Are you depressed about something?”