4
Savannah
Istare at the spot where Beau disappeared, long after he’s gone.
He was sure glad to be rid of me. I didn’t even get to thank him for all he’s done. The truth is, when he turned his back on me, a stab of loss robbed me of all my words.
It’s crazy. I’ve only known him for a few hours, but I have the weirdest feeling we’ve always known each other.
And now he’s gone.
I’m bursting to rush after him, beg him not to go. Get his contact details at the very least.
But I guess if he’d wanted me to have them, he would’ve given them to me.
I squirm as that moment in the RV hurtles back to me again. That dumb moment when I thought he liked me liked me. Thought he was going to kiss me.
But then he saw something he didn’t like at all and he pulled away.
It’s okay, I’m used to it.
Just wish it didn’t hurt even more than being rejected in public while buck naked.
“Come behind the bar, hun.” My new employer’s voice is softer now. She holds up the bar flap and lets me slip through.
“I’m Meredith. That little stick insect down the end of the bar is Elinor.”
The girl who’s been folded up on a bar stool looks up from her phone and salutes goofily.
Meredith shows me around—the glasses racks, the glass washer. The fridges, beer taps. House liquors, top shelf. I nod knowledgably. I wasn’t lying when I told her I had experience—I’ve worked my pack’s makeshift bar a ton. But this feels like a comfortable, friendly place.
Meredith holds a battered glass up to the light and examines it, frowning. “First rule of working at Sinner’s Refuge: don’t ask the customers any leading questions.”
“Leading?” I say.
She gives me a hard look. “Anything that puts a person the spot. Makes them uncomfortable. Not want to drink here.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“In return, folks won’t ask you anything that’ll make you feel uncomfortable. Lotsa wanted posters here. Folks turning up looking for their people. Not everyone wants to be found. Can cause a lot of trouble. Cops sniffing around and all.”
“No one’s looking for me,” I say quickly.
“Good,” she replies, but I hardly hear her, because another wave of grief is knocking me sideways.
For a few beautiful hours, Beau made me forget my pack. Showed me I could live again. But now that he’s gone, that loss—of everything I knew—opens up like a crater.
“Best keep busy.” Meredith is looking at me kindly. She squeezes my arm. “Whenever you’re ready, we’re listening, hun. Looks like you’ve been through a lot.”
I nod, because if I say anything at all right now, I might burst into tears.
It’squiet for a couple of hours, then it gets busy at lunchtime. Meredith’s sister turns up—a statuesque, gray-haired lady—and she and Meredith get to work in the kitchen, while Elinor and I work the bar. Elinor is a whirlwind, darting from table to table, taking orders at a hectic pace, sneaking up behind me to crack jokes and observations about the customers. She’s some kind of shifter but I don’t know what. Her animal scent is weak, like mine, maybe. She’s very skinny, with protruding, wide-set eyes, and a small mouth. She has a bunch of piercings, and her hair is long and glossy black. She reminds me of some kind of bird. A raven or a magpie. I don’t know anything about other species. Maybe it’s not polite to ask.
After the lunchtime rush is over, it gets real quiet again, and Meredith emerges from the kitchen with a huge leather purse slung over her shoulder.
“I’m heading out for a while,” she says. “Think you girls can hold the fort?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Elinor bites her lip and her googly eyes shoot around the almost-deserted room.