Page 12 of Catch My Fall

I’ve been here a little under an hour, sat in the far corner of the bar with my head hung low to avoid making eye contact with anyone. The last thing I want tonight is conversation. I’m perfectly happy wallowing, using the Whiskey in my glass to help tamp down the sick feeling that curdles in my stomach.

From the outside, the bar looks like a dark dingy place where more than just alcohol is being consumed, but it’s actually not bad. The lighting is dim, and the music is soft, creating an atmosphere that is both warm and inviting. On another day under different circumstances, that’s how it would make me feel, but just lately there’s a permanent tightness in my chest, an uneasy churn in my stomach, a feeling I’ve unwillingly grown used to.

It’s a feeling of dread, of foreboding, of the knowledge that the clock is against us, and the time to find Sierra is quickly running out.

She’s out there somewhere. She could be a mile away or half way around the world for all we know, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

A woman laughs across the bar and my eyes lift to find a woman who looks so much like Sierra. Maybe a few years older, a little shorter and curvier, but the same jet black hair and pretty face, but not a patch on my princess. She’s with two other women I assume are her friends and I can’t help thinking that this is where Sierra should be. Enjoying her life, laughing with her friends and having fun, not locked up somewhere being violated and tortured by some sick cunt who enjoys nothing more than to watch her bleed.

I drown that thought with another drink, just as I set my glass down onto the bar, my phone pings with an incoming text and my heart lurches when I read the message preview on the lock screen. I swipe to unlock it.

Unknown: I have information on Sierra. Come to The Tap House on Eighth. Sit on the left-hand side of the bar and keep your ears open. This isn’t a trick, I swear. I want to help.

Keep my ears open? What the fuck does that mean?

I re-read the message, my heart pounding. Is it a trick? Some sort of trap to lure me in? It could most definitely be a trick, but with Sierra’s life at stake, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I’m pulling up outside The Tap House fifteen minutes later. It’s busier in here than the last place, and finding a seat on the left side of the bar as instructed is easy. I do a quick scan of the bar as I head to the open seat, not seeing anyone who stands out to me before ordering a drink.

I settle into my seat and wait, because what other choice do I have?

Half an hour goes by and nothing. Not a single sign or word and I’m starting to think I’m wasting my time. I re-read the text, half tempted to call the number but I decide against it and reach for my drink instead. Just as I tip my head back, my glass at my lips, a conversation behind me steals my attention.

“…Austin won’t be happy about this…”

I turn my head a fraction and notice two guys sat at a table a few feet away out of the corner of my eye, their heads bent forward as they speak in hushed voices, but not quiet enough that I can’t hear.

“He won’t find out. You need to stop being a little bitch and trust me on this or you’ll end up with a bullet in your head right alongside her,” the big beefy one says.

Her? Sierra.

“But we’re under orders, Vik,” the smaller, younger one replies. “We’re not permitted to touch her.”

They’re talking about Sierra, I know it. I feel it in my gut.

“And you’re not permitted to question me, boy. I’m in charge, and you follow my orders. Since when do you care whether I fuck the bitch or not? You sweet on her or somethin’?”

“N—No. It’s just… It’s not right.”

“There’s a fine line between right and wrong, you know that.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

Vik, the beefy one huffs as he leans back in his chair. “I knew Austin should never have hired you. You’re weak. You’re not cut out for this job,” he sneers. “When we start our shift tonight, all you have to do is turn the other way, no one else has to know. Do not fight me on this, you don’t want me as an enemy I assure you. Now, I’m going for a smoke and a piss, give you some time to figure out your answer while you get in another round.”

I glance over my shoulder, watching as Vik gets up and heads out the door, my eyes falling on the younger one before turning back around.

I take another swig of my drink as a figure slides in beside me. “Two more beers, please,” he orders. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him give me the once over before facing forward. “You Alec?”

“You the one who text me?”

“Yeah. I don’t have a lot of time, Vik will be back any minute.” He fidgets with his hands nervously.

“Why are you helping me?” I ask.

“Because I don’t like what they’re doing to her.”

“Is she okay?”

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