Page 16 of The House Beyond the Dunes

Tensing, I stand my ground and ask the woman beside me, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, thanks. You okay?”

“I’m good. What do we do with him?”

“You’ll leave, won’t you, Pete?” the woman asks. “He doesn’t want trouble with Joey.”

“The bar owner?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

I look at Pete. “Joey sounds like a badass. That true?”

Pete glowers.

“We can get Joey, if you’re not sure,” I offer. I can finish him off myself, but if someone else will do the work, let ’em.

Pete rubs his knee, winces. “Never mind.”

I watch as he limps toward the driver’s door and slides behind the wheel. Wounded animals can be very dangerous, so I keep a close eye on him.

“Come inside,” the woman says. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“I don’t need a drink.”

No one does anything for free, and certainly not out of the goodness of their heart. Everyone has an agenda. Even me. Best to know what it is.

Pete fires up his engine. The one working taillight blinks, signaling he’s shifted into drive. I stand ready to fight, but Pete pulls out of the alley and onto the main road. I glimpse his license plate and commit the numbers and letters to memory.

I’m tempted to ask the young woman where I am but don’t. Salt air suggests near the ocean, indicating I’ve likely returned to my favorite place. And when I say favorite, I mean most hated.

“My name is Nikki,” the young woman says as she rubs her arms, a sign adrenaline is rocketing through her body. I also feel jittery and flushed.

“I’m Stevie.”

“Where did you come from?” Nikki asks.

“Just happened by.” My voice is rough, forcing me to clear my throat.

“I saw your car parked in that spot an hour ago. You were sleeping, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” The last words sound awkward, rusty. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a bartender at Joey’s.”

An engine revs, tires screech, and a truck with a broken taillight races past the alley. “Who was your friend, Pete?”

Nikki drags shaking fingers through her hair. “A really big mistake.”

“You make a lot of mistakes like that?” I lower the bat but decide to keep it close.

“Sometimes. Not all the time. I only said yes because rent is due in four days. Well, technically rent is due today, but I get a four-day grace period.”

“Sometimes is all it takes, Nikki.”

“I know. I know. You really saved my ass. Pete was in a mood.” She leans forward as if sharing a secret. “He had a big fight with his wife.”

“Doesn’t bartending pay the bills?”

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