Cruel Infatuation (Underground Kings 3)

“She’s from out of town. She stopped to say hello on her way to Vegas. Ain’t that right, Crystal?”

“Yeah, Dixie. I’ve missed you so much. Sorry, I can’t stay longer.”

“It’s okay. Maybe next time. You all ain’t to put your fucking hands on her; do you understand me?”

Darryl stands up from the stool and invades my space, his shirt brushing against my cheek as he lingers. He reeks of sweat.

“Your cousin looks like she’s been through hell.”

“She has, and she doesn’t need a repeat. So you three get on,” she seethes, pointing her finger toward the door again.

“I’ll be seein’ you around, doll face,” Darryl whispers in my ear, sending goose bumps along my skin.

The other two men laugh, and Darryl doesn’t leave without saying the last word to Dixie, “That’s alright. Plenty other bars around here that will take my money.”

“Idiots they are,” Dixie shouts to them as they stroll out the door.

I pop another pickle in my mouth and swallow it down with some beer. “They seem nice.”

“Nice as a damn deadly scorpion. Listen, sweetie, I don’t know how long you’re here for, and I don’t know what brought you to this town, but you need to be careful. Girls like you don’t show up here and just leave.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Girls like me always leave, Dixie.” I point to the plate I want on the menu and grin. “I’ll take the Rock Jollies burger.”

“You got it.”

A about a half-hour later, I’m full off two-beers, pickles, and a burger and fries. I get myself a to-go cup of Coke and give Dixie a good tip. “Thanks, Dixie. Best burger I’ve had.”

“Anytime! Stay safe, you hear me?” She bites her lip and then takes a pen from the brush of her hair. “Here, this is my number. Whatever fucked up shit you get into, call me. I’ll help.”

“Why?” I stare at the piece of paper in my hand, perplexed.

“Us girls got to stick together.”

“Thanks, Dixie.” I stuff the number in my back pocket and head out the door, sipping on my Coke just as a Kansas song comes on. I give her one last wave and vanish down the sidewalk in search of the nearest hotel.

All the buildings look alike, and the horses are fewer as the day gets later. No one seems to be giving me strange looks anymore since I’m carrying a ‘Rock Jollies’ cup.

Doesn’t take long to find the hotel. There’s a small inn at the end of the street, and it looks more like an odd saloon than a place to lay my head. There’s no way this town is real. It’s out of a movie or something. I have to be getting pranked.

I head through the door and see an old man with a mustache that curls up on each side standing behind the counter in a white shirt, black vest, with a watch hanging from his pocket. I’ve entered a time warp.

“Well, hi there, little lady. What can I do ya for?”

Oh, wow. His happy attitude is too much for me to handle.

I want to punch happy people. Sometimes.

“Just a room for the night if you have it?” I ask.

“Sure thing.”

I give him my fake I.D. and forty bucks for a room with a twin-size bed. He places the key in my hand, and it’s an actual key—iron-made and heavy, more like a prison key than a room key.

“Up the stairs, first door on your right, sweetie. Have a good night.” He smiles, twisting the curled mustache up even further.

I muster up the best fake grin I can, but I know it makes me look confused. “Thanks.” I head up the wooden steps, putting as much distance as I can between me and the world outside. The stairs are covered in old red velvet, something classier than I imagined, and lamps are on each side of the wall, ignited by a candle.

I’m not in the future anymore. I’m living in the past.