Karen
Although I wasn’t a prisoner I sure as shit felt like one. Although I didn’t try and leave the clubhouse, I knew that if I tried I’d be stopped.
Every time I got near the door a chair would shuffle or a man would cough and raise an eyebrow. They didn’t want to say anything, and nothing needed to be said. I understood. I was not to leave.
They brought me food, they gave me coffee and later beer. But shit, it was boring. There was a big TV in the corner but nothing can entertain when you’re on edge like that. I felt like a condemned prisoner the day before her execution.
In the later afternoon the front door opened and someone came to speak to me, finally. Gauge.
“How are you doing?”
“Great. Really enjoying myself,” I said.
He let out a low chuckle.
“It’s going to be cold out there, when we drop you off.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Here,” he said, “I brought you this.”
I let out a small smile as he handed a thick hoodie over. It looked warm.
“Thanks,” I said, and I meant it.
I was about to tell him that I’d never worn a hoodie before; Dewey didn’t think they would suit me, and they hadn’t been issued in prison; but I didn’t think he would understand.
“Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll wake you at 4. We’re going to have an early start.” He grinned and seemed pleased at the insanity of the hour we’d be starting off.
I shrugged. “Okay.” I actually was pretty tired, but I was also wired with nervousness. Still, it might be worth trying to get some rest.
I headed out back to Bottle’s room and Gauge stalked out the front door of the club to go do whatever he had to do.
“Strange guy,” I said to no one in particular as I closed the door to Bottle’s room.
I lay down on the bed. Had Gauge really come here just to give me that hoodie? Or was he in fact checking up on everything, making sure I was still confined to the clubhouse.
Probably the latter I thought.
I was still trying to figure him out, and just what the hell was going on, when somehow I managed to fall asleep.