"Ow," she said and made a face. "That's gotta hurt. Poor bastard."
"I know. They bruised his kidneys and bladder, I guess."
"So, what's the plan?" she asked and plopped down on my bed. "You going to the club tonight?"
I nodded. "Yep. After supper. I'll go and see if Hunter's there. From what Graham told me, he's usually there on weekend nights, managing the club. I’ll go early and try to see him."
"Do you want me to come along for moral support?"
I shook my head. "No," I said and sighed. "This is something I have to do myself."
"Okay, but if you change your mind…"
"I won't."
She and I had dinner together in the dining hall, and then I watched some television, working up the nerve to go to the club and confront Hunter. I had this low level of anxiety about seeing him. Scratch that – it was a high level of anxiety, and I felt a little sick to my stomach.
I could only imagine the look of hate on his boyishly beautiful face when he saw me – the outright contempt in his pale blue eyes. Eyes that once stared into mine during the most intimate moment of my life.
An intimacy I’d never been able to rekindle with anyone else since.
At eight, I popped into the washroom and brushed my teeth, fixed my hair and checked out my image in the mirror. My long dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail. I didn't wear makeup besides a bit of gloss. I wore my hoodie and jeans and my Blundstones.
I looked like an average college student and not a damsel in distress approaching the local hard-hearted head of an Irish mafia family for money to pay off loan sharks…
I still could barely believe that had become my reality.
I kept putting off going and decided to drop by Graham's hospital room before I went, just to give him a break from being alone all evening. He was watching television when I arrived and had this expectant expression in his eyes when I walked in.
"Did you talk to Hunter?" he asked through a clenched jaw.
I shook my head. "I thought I'd stop by and see my big bro first," I said and leaned down to kiss his cheek.
"Go tonight," he said. "He'll have to get the money. It might take time
."
"I will," I said, my stomach lurching at the thought. "As soon as I leave."
That seemed to satisfy him and so I sat on the chair beside his bed and we watched the game on the tiny television for a while.
"What happens if Hunter won't give you the money?"
Graham turned his head and looked in my eyes. "Then we'll tell Spencer. But don't tell them until you talk to Hunter. I don’t want to ruin their vacation for nothing. If he helps, I won't tell Spencer."
I kissed Graham's cheek. "Don’t worry. I won't tell him either. We've all suffered enough shit from him."
I left him at nine and made my way from Mass General to the The Venue, the music and dance club Hunter's Uncle Donny owned in the waterfront district. When Donny went to prison, Hunter took over and managed it. Located on Seaport Boulevard, it was just a block from the water in an old warehouse. In the center of the block, it dominated the street, and there was already a lineup to get inside even that early on a Saturday night. Things didn’t usually get busy until after ten, but tonight was busier than normal.
I checked out the line and saw there was a bouncer at the door admitting people a couple at a time. I bypassed the line and went to him, hoping that if I dropped Hunter's name, he'd let me in ahead of other people.
"The line ends there." A big beefy guy with a shaved head and a business suit pointed to the end of the line with his pen. He appeared to be taking names or checking names off a list on a clipboard. "But you're not getting in dressed like that so go home, little girl."
I frowned. "I'm not here for the club. I'm here to see Hunter," I said, trying to display all the dignity I could muster.
"You and a dozen other hopefuls. Now go. Grow up a bit and come back when you know how to dress."
I checked out the people in line and saw they were all dressed up, the men in suits and the women in sexy dresses with high heels, their hair and makeup impeccable. By comparison, I appeared what I was – a college student with no social life and no clue what one even looked like.