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Chapter One
Liya
“Last call,” I state firmly while collecting two PBRs. “Time to pay your tabs and get moving, gentlemen.”
All the patrons that usually lurk around the East Village have paid their tabs and left. A couple of stragglers remain near the stage at a table that hasn’t yet been cleaned. Their low voices hardly reach my ears. I don’t care much about them, preferring to focus my attention instead on the clock that signals my impending relief.
The two stragglers rise unbothered from the table and drift toward me. One of them limps while the other stumbles. I sigh expectantly, waiting for one—or both of them—to throw up all over the counter that I’ve just spent the last few minutes polishing.
But they surprise me. With a quick mumble of thanks, the two of them head toward the front door, the sound of lighters clicking after their exit.
Smoke lingers in the air amid the sound of classic rock still playing on the speakers in the dimly lit bar. The neon sign buzzes rhythmically as it drapes colorful light over the empty tables. The floors host a thin, grimy muck that needs to be mopped eventually—and I’ll probably end up being the one doing that.
No vomit tonight. Thank fuckingGodfor that.
I scrub the bar ceaselessly, my brain on full blast as Blaczak’s Horseman slowly winds down around me. Now that it’s empty, it feels oddly like a quick cut from a horror movie, where a monster will explode from the back office at any moment. But I know that won’t happen. The only monster back there is my pervert of a boss—Dmitri Kravchenko.He wasn’t too grabby tonight.
Small victories.
Janine, the other bartender, is back there too. She’s probably prematurely counting all of her tips before Dmitri can demand his cut. She’ll be back to comb through the chores for closing time, though.
When I glance at the clock again, I shudder to think that this might be where I stay for the rest of my life.
At least I’ll still have my brother, I think. And then a pang of guilt rips through me.I hope he hasn’t checked the mail today.He would flip if he found out about that med school application.
Shame accompanies the guilt as my scrubbing intensifies. My muscles take over the motions as I zone out from the repetitive motion. A bomb could go off right now and I’d have no clue, either too absorbed by the sticky residue of beer on the counter, or the stains on the edge of the wood, or the mess Janine left behind before she went on her unscheduled break.
My eyes roll to the ceiling. I hate being alone behind the bar.
Sighing, I adjust my focus to the office door seated to the right of the serving area, the light inside glowing in the clouded window like a beacon for a moth. Except I’m not attracted to that light in any way. My chest tightens and I shake my head, trying to push myself back into a cleaning frenzy.
The front door squeaks open, and the petite figure of my best friend Willow bounces in, smiling warmly under her blonde curls as she approaches the bar.
“Hi, Liya.” She beams.
“Hey, Willow.”
“When are you off? You should come out with me.”
I sigh, shrugging. I don’t need to look at the clock to know ten minutes have gone by. My body understands the passage of time much better than I do.
I sure could use a drink. But then again…
“No,” I say glumly. “Jonas probably expects me to be home later.”
“Your weird brother?”
I smirk and retort, “He’s not weird.”He’s just stuck in a rut. It happens sometimes.
Willow rolls her eyes at my words. “Right. And I’m a lost Russian princess.”
“Could do without the sarcasm, Willow.”
“Correction.” She shakes her head. “You could do with a heavier dose of sarcasm—and reality. If you hadn’t noticed, Jonas is draining you dry. I can see it on your face.”
“He’s not draining me.This baris draining me.”
“Maybe if your deadbeat brother did anything other than lying around, you wouldn’t have to look so dead tired all the time.”
