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“What about you?”
“You first. I’ll be okay.”
Candace looked apprehensive, but I urged her on.
“Mom,” she cleared her throat. “Can I use the restroom?”
Her mom looked up from the bottle of booze she had upside down, pouring heaping amounts of it into a glass.
“Whatever.”
After Candace was up and almost to the restroom, I attempted to follow.
“Not you,” Amber said without looking up from her whiskey.
I sat back down.
“You should go easy on the liquor. It’s not water, you know,” I said.
“Aren’t you just a saint?”
“You are a—” My insult was interrupted by a phone call to the bar’s main line.
Amber picked it up.
“Hello? Oh, finally.” A smirk crossed her face. “Yes, she’s in here…I want my money…Where’s Brenton?”
I listened as Amber negotiated with what I assumed to be the police for a few minutes. Then she hung up and chuckled. Her laughter stopped as she noticed her daughter still wasn’t back from the restroom.
“What the hell is she doing in there?” Amber asked before going to investigate.
I stood up and followed, not willing to leave until I knew Candace was out. Amber came rushing out from the restroom within seconds.
“Where did that brat go?!”
I smiled. This angered Amber more as she stomped over to me, clutching the pistol with white knuckles and a shaking hand.
“Where is she?”
“I’d imagine she’s in the custody of the police by now.” I smiled, relieved. “It’s over, Amber. It’s time to turn yourself in.”
“You little bitch.” Amber aimed her gun at me and I covered my belly. After a moment, her eyes narrowed in understanding. “Is it his?”
“Yes,” I told her, hoping the small amount of morality in her wouldn’t allow her to shoot a pregnant woman.
“He’d just leave you high and dry, you know. You’d be in a life long battle to get him to help you care for that thing.” She motioned at my belly in disgust. “He doesn’t care about you, let alone your child. I know that’s for sure.”
“You’re wrong.”
Her gun stayed aimed at me.
