Page 64 of My Soul for Sale

I roll my eyes while shaking my head. “Like none of ya have seen a pretty lady?”

“Not in a long time, baby. You better be careful or Duttin might have some competition.” He wags his brows at me and I laugh.

“You couldn’t handle me, Moon!”

The guys sitting with him roar with laughter and Moon tosses me a wink.

“I gotta get out of here, Sloane. You’ve kept me here for too long. Plus, there’s about to be no one to serve me.”

“True.” I smile. “I got myself a hot date and until I find another bartender, the hours are weird. I have an interview with someone tomorrow and from the resume she dropped off, she's promising.”

“I hope so. You need some help.” He and his buddies drop their empties on the bar and shuffle toward the door. “See you tomorrow, Sloane!”

“See ya!” I call, turning the open sign off, and head behind the bar to see what I need to stock.

I make my way to the cooler. The low hum of the refrigeration unit fills the air as I reach for a case of Bud Light, the familiar clinking of bottles echoing in the otherwise empty space. Next, I run to the back room shelves to get a fresh bottle of Tito’s.

Setting the vodka on top of the case of beer and balancing them in my arms as I head toward the counter. Quickly, I put everything in its place before taking a quick mental note of what pops I need to refill.

With the pop cooler filled, I move on to the next chore: filling the mop bucket. The sound of water splashing into the bucket is oddly soothing as I fill it to the brim. I grab the mop and plunge it into the water, soaking the head before wringing it out and pushing the bucket back onto the main floor.

As I start mopping, I lose myself in the repetitive motion, the scent of Mr. Clean mingling with the faint aroma of alcohol. But my moment of peace shatters when the door swings open, and I curse under my breath for forgetting to lock it.

"We're closed!" I call, my tone laced in frustration. "Sorry, I forgot to lock the door,” I add, hoping whoever it is will take the hint and leave.

But instead of footsteps retreating, I hear a voice, and my heart sinks as I recognize it. "What the fu—" I begin, but before I can finish, pain explodes in my temple, and the world goes black.

When I come to, everything is a blur, the taste of blood lingering on my lips. I struggle to sit up, my head pounding with each movement. And as my vision clears, I see her standing over me, a bottle of Jameson clutched in her hand.

"Trina," I manage to choke out, disbelief and anger warring within me.

But there are no answers, only silence as she stares down at me with cold eyes.

God damn me and my foolish mistakes.

“What do you want?” I rasp, my head pulsing like a drum.

She laughs a sadistic little laugh. “This place was supposed to be mine. Kevin was mine! You took it from me. My job, my money, my man.”

“I bought the bar, Trina. Kevin ending your arrangement is not on me. That’s between the two of you.”

“No!” She kicks me in the thigh and I wince. “You just had to buy this fucking place so that he had a reason to end it. I was so close to locking it down. Where did you get the money, anyway?”

What does she mean she was close to locking it down? You know what… I don’t care. What I do care about is getting away from this fucking lunatic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hold a hand to my head.

“Kevin!” she shrieks.

I squeeze my eyes shut as her high-pitched squawking rings in my ears.

“What about Kevin?” I ask.

“You know what you did, Sloane. Don’t play innocent now. You slut. You think you can come in here with your curves and ass and take everything I’ve worked for?”

“So, what are you going to do, Trina? I think you gave me a concussion. You need to call an ambulance. I don’t feel so good,” I tell her as my stomach does a round of backflips.

“No.”

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