An hour or so after Ryske had left, Harlow heard Felipe shouting up the spiral stairs. The youngster called her name, so she quickly finished applying her lip gloss and tossed the tube aside before heading toward his voice.
Telling herself to be confident and optimistic, she ran down the stairs, brushing a hand across Felipe’s cheek as she passed him to float across the den.
“Someone’s here for you,” Felipe said.
Harlow hadn’t so much as paused and twirled to face him as she opened the den door. “I know, honey.”
“Dover doesn’t look happy.”
Peeking around the den door, her grin grew cheerier. “Do I look like I give a crap?”
If she was stuck in Floyd’s until Ryske finished weaving his magic, then her only option was to see her friends there. Dover didn’t have to like the people she socialized with, but he did have to bite his tongue, just like he had when Hagan sent his men in to spy.
Harlow flounced into the bar. She wasn’t working tonight; no point when she was going to be kicked out as soon as the crew could get away with ousting her. All that was left was for her to say goodbye to the friends she had made in the city. In honor of her forced farewell, she’d snagged her clean cellphone from the closet desk and made plans. No one had told her that she couldn’t invite people to drink with her.
Rounding the bar on the patrons’ side, Harlow wasn’t surprised to find that Clyde was nervous. Seated on the stool he’d occupied the last time he was there, he was looking left and right, vigilant, probably because he’d been caught so unawares the last time.
Reaching her friend, she put a hand on Clyde’s shoulder to lean in and kiss his cheek. “He’s not here,” she said.
Clyde blinked, probably surprised by her familiarity, but he didn’t say anything. Harlow leaned over the bar to wave at Dover’s bartender, Lowan, and ordered them some drinks.
“He… he’s not here?” Clyde asked. She shook her head, seating herself on the stool next to his. “Why did you call me?”
The only reason she’d been able to call Clyde was because Ryske had revealed his last name, which let her look him up.
“I’m heading out of town tomorrow,” she said. “I emailed my notice to Gina.”
Harlow hadn’t been in the office for weeks, so she doubted her resignation was any surprise to her former boss.
It was more of a shock to Clyde. “You… why?”
Lowan brought over their drinks and didn’t even try to ask for payment. Grabbing the glass, Harlow began to gulp down the alcohol. Having already destroyed half a bottle of wine upstairs, her reserve was long gone.
“That’s part of the reason I called you,” she said, touching her moist lip. “A friend of mine found out Gina has done quite a few favors for a specific guy who gives a lot of money to the department… the favors aren’t always in our clients’ interest… or in the employees’ interest. I wanted to tell you to watch your back.”
Dover’s voice came from behind her. “Can I talk to you?”
Framing his words as a question seemed ridiculous given that at the same time he said them, he grabbed her elbow and hauled her off her stool. Harlow barely had time to put down her glass before she was being dragged away from Clyde.
About ten feet from the bar, Dover stopped and whirled her around to face him.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, picking lint from Dover’s sleeve.
“Are you nuts?” he hissed. “What’s this asshole doing here? Ryske is going to—”
“Do nothing,” she said. “Because by the time he’s back Clyde will be gone. Besides, he and I talked and agreed we’re through, so it’s all good.”
She patted his chest and tried to go back to Clyde, but Dover caught her arm to pull her back again. “You’re through?”
Smiling, she nodded. The last thing she needed to do was show the melancholy that was tearing her apart. Instead, Harlow chose to stick with blind optimism. “After tonight you’ll be free of me forever. I’m going back home. I wanted to say goodbye to the closest thing I had to a friend in the city. I don’t think that’s wrong. I want to say goodbye to Bale too… maybe I’ll write him a letter.”
Dover seemed stunned for a moment, but pulled himself together. “Well, you’re, uh… you’re in luck. He got back into town last night. He’s coming over later.”
“Excellent,” she said, patting him again. “Perfect.”
Inviting Clyde for a drink wasn’t meant to lead to a night of partying. Saying goodbye, and delivering the warning about Gina, were her motivations. This wasn’t game playing. After going back to her parents’ home the following day, she’d never have any reason to see Clyde again.
She’d never see any of them again.
Dover didn’t stop her again. Harlow went back to the bar and got another drink for herself and for Clyde. Her ex-colleague needed the courage even in spite of her constant reassurance that Ryske wasn’t around and wouldn’t be bursting in to beat him up. After maybe the twentieth time of reiterating that she and Ryske were no longer an item, Clyde began to relax, and they finally had a chance to talk.
She didn’t even notice the hours passing and lost track of how many glasses of wine she’d had. With nothing but the prospect of tension and grief ahead of her, the escape into this temporary fun was welcome.
Harlow’s night got better when someone touched her waist. Turning to see who was there, she found herself in the half-embrace of a familiar man.
“Bale!” she exclaimed putting down her glass to leap into his arms. “Oh, I missed you! Where have you been, Doctor Urban?”
“It’s a long story,” he said, keeping an arm around her. “Who’s your friend?”
“An ex-colleague,” she said, picking up her wine again. “I quit my job.”
With his fingertips, he gathered her hair from her temple to tuck it behind her ear. “I know, I’ve been talking to Dover… do I need to order a psych exam? I thought you loved your job.”
“I did, until I realized it was a crock of shit.” Tipping her head back, Harlow finished her wine and pushed the glass over the bar. “Nobody’s who they say they are. Have you noticed that? How people are just bone-deep liars? Men and women alike. Everyone’s out for themselves… Men are real bastards… Fucking bastards.”
“Okay, I think that’s enough liquor for you, lady,” Bale said, shaking his head at Lowan.
She pouted at him. “You are a party pooper. I was so desperate to see you before I left… now I think you should go back to your conversation with Dover.”
“I think you should tell me what Ryske did to upset you,” Bale said.
Tutting, and sagging to the side, she noticed how Clyde paled at the mention of the person she’d worked hard to expel from their discussions. “Why is everything about that bastard? Can’t I just be drunk because I’m drunk and not because he stole my heart and stomped all over it?” Smacking a hand on the bar, she twisted out of Bale’s arms in her attempt to seek out the bartender. “I need more alcohol, Lowan!”
“No, you don’t,” Bale said.
The bartender, Lowan, was standing at the curve of the bar doing his best not to look in her direction, which was an obvious ploy because she was being loud enough that everyone else was looking at her.
“What am I doing?” she said, realizing her error. “I don’t need your permission. I don’t need anyone’s damn permission! I know where the alcohol is. What is Dover going to do if I help myself? Call the cops?” Spitting out a laugh, she slunk out from between Bale and the bar. Taking a moment to wobble on her shaky legs, Harlow slapped at both Clyde and Bale as they tried to steady her. “I don’t need help. Leave me. Leave me!”
After they let her go, she immediately lost her balance and stumbled to the side. She might have hit the floor if someone else hadn’t caught her.
When she blinked up at the face belonging to the arms around her that had prevented her fall, Harlow went from grateful to resentful in a heartbeat. “Oh look,” she sneered. “It’s the man who gets the trophy for it.”
“It?” Ryske asked.
“Leaving me,” she said and shoved at him to get out of his arms. “I don’t need your damn help either.”
Holding onto Bale for balance, she dipped down to pull off one heel and then the other. Her legs might be shaky, but steadying herself would be easier without the shoes.
“She’s drunk,” Ryske muttered, making eye contact with the doctor behind her.
She raised a spike heel to wave it in his face. “Don’t do that. Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here. In twenty-four hours you’ll have your wish and I’ll be gone forever, then all of you can erase me from your memories…”
Bale’s hand closed over the back of hers to remove the shoe from her grip. “You’re going to take his eye out with that thing.”
“He doesn’t need his eyes,” she grumbled. “Long as his dick works, he’ll be just fine.” Bale took both shoes from her, but she didn’t care, Harlow was too busy glaring at Ryske who she hadn’t expected to see so soon. Not given what he was supposed to be doing. Raising both arms, she pasted on a wide smile. “And congratulations are in order, everyone! One of our very own has chosen to sacrifice his freedom for love! Yes, he’s engaged!” Those in the vicinity clapped or jeered, and she slapped Ryske’s arm. “I can’t ask to look at the ring. I don’t know what you’re supposed to say to a newly engaged man, so congratulations will have to do.”
“Trink—”
“Don’t Trink me,” she hissed without caring that his anger seemed to be as potent as hers.
Sweeping Ryske aside, she muttered to herself about how out of line he was on her walk along the length of the bar and around to behind it. Lowan didn’t even get in her way when she went past him. God help the Aussie if he had.
It didn’t take her long to retrieve the wine from the fridge.
Still muttering to herself, Harlow knew she was drunk, and knew she was making a scene. But, fuck it, this was her last night in these people’s lives. They were casting her out. She was being ousted. She wasn’t good enough for them.
Twisting the corkscrew into the top of the bottle, Harlow didn’t recall being aware of anything beyond her own thoughts. Bale might have been telling her not to drink more. Clyde might have been agreeing that it wasn’t a good idea.
Only one thing stood out clear as crystal. In the time it took her glance to ascend past the duo, everything seemed to slow down.
Maybe she’d heard his name being called. Harlow couldn’t remember that either. All she remembered was raising her chin, seeking something out. Whatever had drawn her attention got Ryske’s too; he turned toward the door at the same time she did.
Everything happened in slow motion, yet it happened so fast. Harlow had just registered that the man standing inside the Floyd’s entrance was Alleyman when a flash of light blinded her. It was just a second in time, and she didn’t hear a bang, at least she didn’t remember one.
She didn’t remember hearing anything. Everything went silent until her ears began to ring. Activity exploded in every direction. People leaped from their seats, scrambling around falling furniture and probably screaming too, but she heard nothing.
Alleyman fled. She barely noticed his departure in her peripheral vision as her gaze swung back around to Ryske.
Did she know?
Harlow couldn’t hold onto a thought. Nothing seemed significant. Not the pounding of her heart. Not the sickness in her belly or the adrenaline that diluted the alcohol in her bloodstream.
Nothing until the second her eyes met his.
Ryske was there where he had been, six feet from the bar. Completely still though chaos besieged him. Piling toward the door, everyone wanted to get out of there. They wanted to get away from what had happened. Was it danger? Were they afraid?
She hadn’t figured out what had happened, where the flash had come from, or why Alleyman had even appeared… or maybe she just hadn’t acknowledged the truth to herself.
At first, Ryske seemed calm. Dumb confusion swept over him and she felt it too. Something had scared all these people, but all she’d seen was a small burst of light, a brief spark of…
Ryske’s hand rose. She hadn’t taken her eyes from his, but she was somehow aware of the movement. Numb, nothing made sense and she identified with his confusion. This was bizarre. Something was happening that she didn’t understand.
Ryske’s eyes dropped from hers to focus on his fingertips. Following his gaze, she saw what he did in the same moment he saw it.
His fingers were red… why were they…
It wasn’t just his fingers. There was a stain on his shirt… on his chest…
Undiluted terror struck her with the force of a big rig.
The world was still on mute, but Harlow opened her mouth in a scream that didn’t seem to make it out of her lungs or at least it didn’t make it to her ears. Whether the sound came out or not, Bale and Clyde turned away from the bar just as Ryske began to descend.