Chapter Fifty-Three

Sex or slaughter? Pleasure or torture? Whatever her choice, she needed a drink, so heading to a bar would allow her to make a decision later.

Sporting her natural hair and her hottest blouse, Lady locked everyone up and drove into town. Her thoughts drifted to Luke and how she’d just left him at home. But he would be okay. He was a solitary kid at the best of times, which suited her lifestyle.

The bar she found was a new one at the far end of town. Nobody would recognize her, and nobody would have to see her again after tonight. She ordered a gin and sat at the bar, like a spider lurking in her web for its next meal.

Their mistake.

The first was a young man, maybe midtwenties. His hair was long, thick, and wavy blond. His eyes had a purity that suggested he’d yet to have them opened to the harsh reality of the world.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked. He probably had no problem getting women’s attention with that smile.

“You can buy what you want,” Lady said. “Just don’t bother me while I drink it.”

He wrinkled his nose and walked away without another word.

Good. The last thing I need is an age gap to draw attention to myself. Lady downed her drink, ordered another, and waited in silence. It was taking longer than usual tonight. She was about to give up and move to a different bar, when a different man came to her side.

“Good evening.”

“Hello.” Lady stared straight ahead, smiling.

“Are you new in town?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because this place has been open for a month and I’ve never seen you before.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, and the bartender placed a drink in front of him.

“Great deductive skills,” Lady said. “What else, Sherlock?”

The man laughed, leaned into her ear, and whispered, “I know how women of your variety tend to dress and conduct themselves. You’re not here for pleasure, are you? No, you’re here for work.”

“Oh?”

“Uh-huh. Listen, what do you say we cut corners and head back to my place? Whatever your price, name it and it’s yours. I’m a wealthy man, and you could be a wealthy girl. A simple business transaction. What do you say?”

What an absolute pig. Lady wondered what his expression would be if she told him he was wrong, acted offended, and threw a drink in his smug face. She’d come here not knowing whether she wanted the sweet satisfaction of seeing a man die. But sadly for him, he’d just done her the favor of resolving that dilemma for her.

“Come on,” he said, sliding a hand under her elbow. “You might just enjoy it.”

An image poked into her mind—his expression of shock as a blade penetrated his gut. “I’m sure I will,” she said. “Just let me get my coat.”