“Nothing, Sandra,” he hastily said.
“That’s what I thought.” She disappeared back into the kitchen. I raised an eyebrow at Flop.
“Oh, right. Idowork with my ex-wife,” he said, as if he had forgotten. “We both own half the bar, and we’re both too stubborn to sell our half to the other.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
Flop looked over his shoulder and leaned in close. “It’s hell. But it could be worse.”
I laughed and waved for another beer. A new text blinked on my phone.
Jayce: You keep drinking like this and I’ll have to drive you home
Charlotte: I walked here. No DUI for me!
Jayce: It’s a dark road back to the motel. A car wouldn’t see you until the last second. Safer to let me give you a ride. Not to mention it sounds like it’s about to rain.
Charlotte: Sounds like you’re looking for an excuse to give me a RIDE
Jayce: Shit, Peaches. Now you’ve got me thinking.
I grinned over at him. He casually sipped his drink while reading his texts, never looking over at me.
This was exactly what I needed: some drinks with new people who could make me laugh and take my mind off things. A million times better than drinking a six-pack in my motel and feeling sorry for myself.
Not to mention more flirty texts with Jayce. It was even more fun when we were in the same room together, pretending like we didn’t know each other.
It would have been the perfect night, except for the Copperhead that chose that moment to walk in.
24
Charlotte
I wouldn’t have noticed the Copperhead except that Flop’s entire demeanor changed. He looked past me at the door and immediately tensed, like he’d seen a ghost. Then he rushed to find a nice bottle of whiskey from the bar, something on the higher shelf with a lot of dust collecting on it, and quickly filled a double shot glass.
“Hey there, Carl,” he said in an overly-casual tone that was spoiled by his shaking hand. “What brings you to Flop’s tonight? There, uh, wasn’t a problem with my payment, was there? ‘Cause like I told Sid, any time there’s a problem he only has to let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it…”
Carl stepped up to the bar next to me. Out of the two kinds of Copperheads I’d seen, he was of the way-too-skinny variety. A tweaker with stringy hair running halfway down his back, and skin hanging loose on his bones.
“Relax, bro,” he said in an amused tone. “Just here for a drink.” He knocked back the shot and looked sideways at me. “And to see this fine little thing.”
I didn’t engage—I just focused on my beer. I’d been planning on having a couple more while listening to another long-winded Flop story or two, but now it seemed like a better idea to call it a night soon. In the corner, Jayce sat very still.
The Copperhead, Carl, fidgeted while Flop poured him another shot. He tapped his boot on the ground and picked at his fingernail. Jonesin’ for a fix, probably.
And he kept leering at me, waiting for me to acknowledge his presence.
All women dealt with unwanted advances. At the bar, at work, even at the frigging grocery store. It was just how things were. We got used to the annoying aspect of it, and we learned to gauge men based on how much of a threat they were. Whether they would only say a few flirty lines, or whether they would follow you to your car and force the issue.
Carl was a tweaker who looked like he’d gone two days without a fix, and he was a Copperhead wearing a gun on his hip, making him essentially above the law in Eastland. Jayce stayed sitting in the corner of the room, doing a bad job of pretending that he wasn’t watching everything. I didn’t want to get into a situation where he decided to defend my honor. If anything tipped off the Copperheads that we were close, it would be that.
“Yeah,” Carl said while looking me up and down. “You’re a fine little piece of ass. Need more of you around this town, if you know what I mean.”
I sipped on my beer and tried to stay relaxed, which was tough since it felt like a bomb was ticking next to me. I needed to leave the bar before things got bad. But I wanted it to look natural, too. If I just got up and left he was likely to get pissed off and follow me outside. Better to suffer his comments for a few minutes first. No harm in that.
Thunder boomed outside, loud enough to rattle the glasses stacked behind the bar.
“How long you stayin’ in Eastland?” Carl asked me. This time he put his elbow on the bar and leaned forward into my field of view so I couldn’t just ignore him. His breath was sour and foul.