TWO
Vern watched Deria walk to the other end of the bar. He’d watched her walk away before. The walk wasn’t why he wanted her.
A blond guy, about halfway between Vern’s age and Deria’s, sat a couple stools to Vern’s right. He wore a spotless T-shirt and jeans, like he had a job that didn’t get him dirty. The guy turned to Vern. “You lookin at her?” the guy said. “You ain’t got a chance. She has a boyfriend.”
“That what she told you?”
The guy blinked. “That’s what she tells everyone.”
“That’s what I’d tell you too. Don’t fucking talk to me.”
The guy’s face went blank a second, then he looked like he might say something. Vern kept looking at him. The guy turned back to his drink.
Vern took a gulp of his beer. Deria was talking to someone down the other end of the bar, someone close to her own age, but he knew it wasn’t a conversation, just an escape from him. Vern drank and waited. No TV in this place, nothing to pretend to be interested in. He drank until his glass was empty.
She returned to Vern’s end of the bar. “Another?” She took his glass.
He nodded. “What’s this I hear,” Vern said, as she put his glass with the other dirty ones, “about you having a boyfriend?”
She smiled. “You’d be surprised if I didn’t, wouldn’tcha?”
“I like to be surprised.”
“Shit.” She brought him his new beer. “You’re hitting on me?”
He laid a twenty on the bar. “I need a place to stay tonight. I trust you.”
“It’s not about who you trust,” she said. “I don’t want your violence in my life. Remember?”
He nodded and she walked away. He liked her, that was the problem with this whole thing. More than that: he liked her and he needed her. And even though she enjoyed the story about Willie, she didn’t want to know him better because of it. She already knew his work was dangerous. He had tried to make its excitement appealing.
Vern drank and waited for her, drank and thought, drank and waited some more. When his glass was almost empty he waved to her. She seemed to have gotten stuck at the opposite end of the bar. He raised his glass and drained it. He wanted something from her and she was worried about his temper. She walked toward him.
“One more?” she said, several feet away.
He nodded.
Deria picked up the twenty fast then moved slowly, poured a fresh glass for Vern and set it in front of him. She picked up his empty, walked away and came back with the change.
“It gets dangerous for me if I don’t stay with you tonight,” he said. “Tonight. That’s all. Put up with me while I spend money on you. Dammit, Deria, I hate needing people.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I know. That was another thing.”
“I need a favor. It isn’t dangerous, and I trust you.”
“Why me? Why did you come here?”
“When I walked in this afternoon, did I look happy to see you?”
“You looked…surprised.”
“I had no idea you work here. I had a job nearby. I wanted a beer.”
“Maybe the first time. But you came back.”
“Now I need a friend. You still like me, right?”
“We can’t be close friends.”
“I’m not asking for close. Just a couple hours tonight.”
She shook her head. “Finish your beer and go.”
He lowered his voice. “We leave together.”
“No,” Deria said. “No way in hell.”
“It’s safe tonight or I wouldn’t ask.”
Her green eyes glared through her glasses. “You don’t sound like you’re asking. And what do you mean, tonight?”
“Tomorrow I’m working. I can’t promise safe when I’m working.”
She poured a pint. It was darker than Vern’s. She drank from it, set her glass on the bar. “What happened when you left here?”
“I tried to make a delivery,” he said, his voice soft. Only Deria could hear him. “The guys I was giving money to tried to take it. I still have the money.”
“But you were going to give it to them anyway.”
“They tried to kill me for it.”
Her mouth hung open. “So they’re looking for you.”
He shook his head. “One ran. The other fell. They won’t know where I am until I find them.”
“They tried to rip you off?” She drank again. “I don’t want you in my apartment.”
“If they knew where I was, I’d be dead already. You’ll be fine. I just need a place I can rest. I got work in the morning. Early.”
“I’m meeting my boyfriend after work.”
“Cancel. You been here since afternoon. When’s the night shift start?”
“Night bartender should be here any minute.” Deria looked confused, like she’d answered the wrong question.
He spoke in a soft growl. “Tell me when he gets here. And call your boyfriend.”
She glared at him. She looked down the other end of the bar, stepped fast in that direction.
She stayed down there a long time. Vern finished his beer, waved to her. She returned, stopped in front of him.
“He here yet?” Vern said.
“My boyfriend or the night bartender?”
“The night guy.”
She dropped her head. “He just got here.”
“So,” he said, “do I have time for one more before we leave?”
“I’m not leaving with you,” she said. “I need to go.”
Vern brought a large hand down on hers, covered it easily. “You need to stay near me.” He leaned forward, his face close to hers. He whispered. “You can’t tell anyone about me. You can’t go anywhere without me.” His grip on her hand tightened.
“I won’t talk to anyone,” she said. “But I’m not going with you.”
Behind the bar, a young man walked toward Deria. His eyes were red, his hair a shambles.
“Hey, Tommy,” Deria said, trying to sound casual.
Tommy nodded. “Hey,” he said, blinking rapidly as he walked past her.
Vern watched him go. “You’re smart, Deria,” he said. “You already called your boyfriend, right?”
“It’s kidnapping if you take me,” she said. “That’s a felony.”
He laughed, spilled some beer. “You think I give a fuck?”
Deria looked Vern in the eye, grabbed a cloth and wiped up the spill. “I’m tired. I want to go home.”
“So,” he said, “you don’t live with your boyfriend.”
Deria blinked several times, like she was trying to figure out how she’d admitted that.
“Swap out your register fast,” Vern said. “Whatever you do at shift change. I’m walking along wherever you go. And don’t say shit.”
She drank, then gulped once more.
“I’ll take you somewhere nice,” he said. “I have a lot of money. I’ll spend some on you. Life ain’t forever.”
A look on her face like she’d never heard those words before. Said without hope, just a fact.
“I don’t remember,” Vern said. “You like Italian?”
Deria saw Vern was taking her unless she somehow stopped him. She didn’t see how she could. “How can you ask that?” He’d scared her when they’d been together before, but she thought that part of her life was over. Now he was forcing his way back, forcing danger back into her life.
“We have to eat,” he said.
She leaned forward, spoke softly. “I didn’t do anything,” she said.
He nodded. “I didn’t either. But they want the money, and they’ll kill me to get it. I’ll leave you before it gets dangerous. They won’t know you exist.”
“How,” Deria said, “can you bring me into this?”
Vern shook his head. “We’re going.”
“I won’t go.”
“You’re going.”
“Or?”
Vern nodded. No words came, just a look that said he’d hurt her. It was a look she’d seen before.
“I have to count my register in back.”
“Take it where it gets counted and come right out. Stick it all in the safe, I don’t care. You have a minute to come out.”
She walked to the register.
Tommy stood there, his usual stoned. “You alright?”
Deria nodded fast. Maybe her face showed something. “Allergies.” She took out the plastic till, and Tommy put a fresh one in.
“You want something for it?” he said.
“No,” she said. “G’night.”
She walked away. Vern walked down the bar with her. She reached the end of the bar and walked through an open door. He started the stopwatch on his phone.
It reached forty-five seconds and she wasn’t out yet. There was no way around this end of the bar. Vern looked at his phone again. It hit fifty-five. Vern pocketed the phone and leapt onto the bar, kicked over some professor’s glass.
“Hey,” the professor said.
Vern leapt off the bar, ran through the open door. “Deria!” he yelled. She wasn’t there. Vern ran into a storage area: no one. A door alongside. Vern opened it and stepped into a small office. The plastic till, filled with cash, sat on a desk. A chair behind the desk. Behind that, a wall. Vern spun and ran back to the storage area. A back door. Vern opened it and stepped into the dark alley outside.
He ran ten yards to the end of the alley, looked both ways. The light was dim, but down the block to his right he saw a woman running. She’d reach the end of the block before he could, but he ran after her, gained ground rapidly. He drew near and she glanced back.
Deria reached the corner and turned right. Vern sprinted, reached the corner, turned. People on the sidewalk. Vern moved fast and he was wide and strangers got out of his way. He reached Deria and grabbed her shoulder. He spun her back against a wall.
Deria gasped.
“Stop running,” he said.
She cried, took deep breaths.
He held both her shoulders. Her breathing slowed. At last she shut her mouth. Vern loosened his grip.
She looked at him. He knew she wouldn’t scream.
“I can’t eat,” Deria said.
“Maybe you can drink.”