There was no response that night, or the following day. I half expected something, and kept checking my phone over and over. But there was only silence from Rex, and his silence blossomed a thousand more questions in my mind. Each question spawned another, until I felt like I was in a spiral of confusion and anger. I hated that I was acting like an angst-ridden teenager. I wasn’t used to pining for a man like that, and I had no idea how to force myself back into a normal mindset.
Monday came around, and I went into work like always. But I felt off, distracted, and my work seemed to pile up around me as I struggled to stay afloat. Marissa droned on like usual, and I didn’t even bother with my usual half-hearted responses. That didn’t seem to deter her one bit, though.
As the day wore on, my resolve began to strengthen. I had a plan, although I knew my plan was absolutely insane. Still, Rex was leaving me no choice. I felt like we had unfinished business somehow, like he had been pulled away from me in the middle of an important transaction. I left something with him, and I needed it back. Even if I was tracking him down for closure, at least that closure was better than total silence.
It was crazy and reckless, but I was going to Drake’s that night. I wanted to sit at the bar, have a few drinks, and wait for him. Maybe he would show, or maybe he wouldn’t, but I guessed his people would tell him about me. Word would get back to him.
It was a great plan.
––––––––
After work that night, I rushed home and changed. I put on old converse sneakers, white ankle socks, a high-waisted mini-skirt, and an old crop-top band T-shirt. I was going for grungy chic, and I thought I pulled it off. Better to try and blend in with the Drake’s crowd, at least. Plus, it was Monday, not exactly a dressed-to-the-nines sort of night.
In the cab on the way over to Drake’s, I was terrified. I realized I had no clue if Rex would be around, let alone want to see me. He had warned me to stay away from the bar, that it would be dangerous for me. But I had already been there twice, and it was fine both of those times. Maybe that was because he had been with me. Worst-case scenario, I’d run into Michael and his goons. If that happened, I’d get out of there as fast as I could. Otherwise, I was in it for the long haul. My plan was to sit at the bar and ignore everyone around me. Hopefully, Rex would show up, and I could talk to him. If he didn’t want to see me, then that would be the closure I needed. I’d be disappointed, maybe even a little sad, but I could at least start to move on.
I paid the driver and tipped him, then made my way down the block toward the bar. I felt a brief moment of relief when I saw nobody lurking outside the dimly lit front door, and it seemed quieter than normal. I stood out front for a minute, gathering myself together. It was completely insane and irresponsible, but I had been feeling insane and irresponsible for a while. That night was one more way I could try and make myself feel alive, the way I felt when I was with Rex. After a few deep breaths, I pushed the beat up front door open and walked into the room.
It was pretty empty inside. There were a few people sitting in stools around the bar, and one couple sitting in a booth. Otherwise, it was quiet as I made my way up to my usual spot. I sat down, put my small clutch on the bar top, and ordered a whiskey and Coke. The place looked the way it always had: dimly lit, pool tables, slightly dirty. Nobody even bothered to look up at me, which was good. The bartender returned with my drink, and I sipped it as I flipped through my phone.
I knew I was in the heart of enemy territory, although I had a hard time really grasping that. Rex wanted to get away from those people, and continually told me how dangerous they were, and yet I hadn’t seen anything to prove that. Really, Drake’s seemed like a pretty tame, boring local bar. It was true that Michael had creeped me out, but it’s not like he was being aggressive. Okay, honestly, he had terrified me. But still, he hadn’t done anything exactly to deserve that response.
As I reflected further on the last two times I had sat at the bar, the front door opened and in walked a few young guys. I recognized the one in the front of the group: it was Tadd, the creep from the other night. I kept my head down and hoped he wouldn’t notice me, but there were so few people in the bar that it was impossible for him not to. I glanced back up as the group sat down at a nearby table and caught Tadd leering at me, a big grin on his face. I quickly looked away and sipped my drink.