Page 14 of Protecting Christina

The following day, I sat at the bar recounting my misfortune to Tina as she prepared two glasses of beer for a couple of customers at the back. I hadn’t revealed Christina’s name or situation. Only that I had a terrible day yesterday.

“And then she twisted her hand, forcing me to talk when I could barely breathe.”

Tina chuckled while wiping the bottoms of the drinks. “Serves you right,” she said.

“What?” I asked, but couldn’t keep my indignation, not when that was the first smile I’d seen in weeks.

“She was quite clear with her request. You didn’t listen until she forced you to listen.”

I picked up my drink and tossed it back. “Well, I heard her loud and clear after that.”

“Exactly.” She snapped the towel and nearly hit my drink. She was still smiling when she pulled it back and wiped the tray with it.

She sighed. “I wish I could do something like that, you know. Grab a man by the balls and squeeze until he gives me what I want. I admire that.”

Huh. When she put it that way, I begrudgingly admired it, too. I would’ve appreciated it more if it were someone else’s balls.

I glanced at the empty glass and wondered for the first time if Christina wasn’t all the different from me and my brothers. We didn’t hesitate to do what was necessary to get the job done, even if it meant twisting someone’s arm or leg in the process. I’d never twisted anyone’s balls, though. At least not yet, but I’d learned how effective of a tactic it was.

Looking up at Tina, I smiled conspiratorially. “You could twist his balls if you wanted.”

Her lips curled up cynically, and she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

My gaze followed hers to the back of the room where her boyfriend sat with some friends. “Excuse me,” she said and walked away with the tray in her hand. She set the drinks down at a table next to his and he took her proximity as an invitation to grab her ass. She jumped and swatted his hand away.

All three men at his table laughed and I saw red. I pushed my chair back, but before I could take a step toward them, Tina walked back toward the bar. Her eyes screamed at me to sit down. I hesitated for a second, but complied.

“This is not your place to step in. If he thinks something is going on between us, I’ll be the one he’ll be angry with.”

I stared at the asshole, who was still laughing with his deadbeat friends.

Disgusting.

He stopped laughing abruptly and checked his phone. His good humor gone, he stared at the message. He spoke a few words to his friends and then walked toward the bar.

“I’ve got to go to work,” he said to Tina on his way out.

“When will you be home?” she called.

“When I’m home.” He threw open the door and left without so much as a goodbye to his girlfriend.

“I thought he was in between jobs. Did he find something?”

Tina shrugged and shook her head. “I have no idea. He calls it work, but he leaves whenever he gets a message and that can be at any hour of the day.”

My leg bounced beneath the bar, but I pushed down my excitement. A small sense of hope grew inside me that perhaps this could be it. I hadn’t found any warrants or parole violations that would lock up the loser. But, if he were getting himself into selling drugs or some other nefarious dealings, then maybe I could put him away for a while.

I left a hundred-dollar bill on the bar, although my drink was only fifteen dollars. Tina stopped arguing about it after I told her it was useless.

“I’ll see you later,” I said, and she waved goodbye.

Jogging up the steps to the sidewalk, I looked both ways for the guy. He hadn’t gotten into a vehicle, but instead, walked quickly southbound toward the inner city.

I followed discreetly, pretending to check my phone every once in a while, but it was pointless. The guy had no instincts. He simply walked to his destination without wondering if anyone was following him. Perhaps it was just a simple work call. Maybe he worked as a delivery guy or errand boy for a legitimate business. But alarm bells went off when he received that message and I wouldn’t dismiss this until I saw it through.

A few blocks south, he finally turned and opened the door. Waiting several minutes before I followed him in, I crossed the street to subtly check out the name of the establishment, rather than look up at the sign. Someone who intended to enter a place, rather than follow someone in, knew where they were going and wouldn’t check the name first.

Once I crossed the street, I realized how needless this tactic was. I would’ve known as soon as I opened the door that this place was a strip club.

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