Don't Tell (Don't 1)

I needed another drink. I eyed the bartender. He nodded, recognizing the gesture and poured a second bourbon. He knew which bottle I had selected for the night.

I liked expensive smooth bourbons that took decades to distill. The Titan imported my favorite from the States to keep on hand for nights like this.

“It’s been a few months, hasn’t it?”

“Six,” I answered. “Sutcliffe has been a bastard lately.”

Ashford laughed. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that shit. I don’t know how you do it.”

Was I supposed to answer? Tell him sometimes the walls closed around me. The burden was suffocating. There were days I considered hiding under a ball cap and hopping aboard one of the catamarans in the marina. Sail the hell out of here. Ashford was one of my oldest friends, but even he didn’t have privy to those thoughts.

“Do you have the tally?” I changed the subject.

Ashford reached in his back pocket, withdrawing a narrow but thick sheet of paper. He handed it to me.

“Not much on there tonight,” he added.

The bartender walked around the edge of the counter, carrying the aged bourbon. “Here you go, sir.” He nodded.

“Thank you.”

I scanned the tally. “Why is the bottom blank?” I looked at my friend.

“Hell if I know,” Ashford huffed. “And they’re late. I’m going to talk to Lesage. He can’t expect us to come back if this is how gala nights are being run.”

I gripped his upper arm firmly. “We’ll just take our investments elsewhere.” I eyed him.

Ashford’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a shame. Freychon needed a place like this.”

“I agree. We all needed it. But he’s not up to the task. Come on. My driver can drop you somewhere.”

I was prepared to leave. Admit tonight was a loss. A wasted night, trying to feed my dark habits.

Ashford followed me toward my security guards. The bass lowered and the lights flickered.

“Wait.” I stopped him.

“Want to turn around?”

I handed the tally back to him. “Let’s take a look.” I nodded toward the black door.

“I’m just a loyal follower,” he ribbed.

I silenced him with an icy glare. Friend or not.

2

Molly

Snap. Snap. Fingers clicked inches from my nose.

I blinked.

“Did you hear me, cher?”

I nodded in a fog. “Yes.”