I took a sip. Best beer ever.
We stayed until closing.
Aly still wanted to hit on the busboy, who turned out to be a bartender. So we moved to the bar. And by the end of the night, we’d figured out he was the main bartender. There were a few regulars sitting near us, and they were fun to talk to. One of them told Harper all about a period in his life where he’d had a male lover. He asked if that made him gay or bisexual or fluid. He wanted to know the differences.
I looked over and shot the busboy/bartender a look. An Uber showed up ten minutes later, and Brandon told the guy that Roy was outside, waiting for him. Reluctantly, he disappeared.
Brandon set my fourth beer in front of me. “We’ve got a few regulars here, but don’t worry. Roy can handle them.”
I didn’t know who Roy was, but I was pro Roy. Go, Roy.
I leaned forward on my elbows. “So I’m guessing you’re not the busboy?”
He flashed me a grin, pouring a drink for a big guy at the end of the bar. “What gave you the first clue?”
I glanced over. Harper was half listening to us, and half paying attention to Aly, who was talking to the big guy waiting for a beer. He smiled and lifted his chin.
I focused back on the bartender. “Just tell me you don’t own the place. That’ll mortify my friend.”
He was pouring, but had to stop because he started laughing so hard. After a bit, he shook his head and went back to work, finishing the drink. “No, but my sister does. I’m a one-third owner. I run the bar section. She runs everything else.”
“Oh.”
Oh. My. Lord.
Aly would be so embarrassed. I was so embarrassed.
He just laughed, and since he didn’t have another drink to pour, he picked up a rag and started wiping out an empty glass. He leaned back against the counter. “Why don’t you tell me about you guys instead? I’m guessing you’re from out of town?”
Harper caught that last part and made a choking sound before he reached for his drink.
I ignored him. “I know people in Frisco.”
He stopped drying the glass, his gaze stuck on me.
My heart sank. That wasn’t a good sign.
I pushed my drink away, knowing it was time to stop. “You know anyone from Frisco?”
“Anyone worth knowing moved away from that town years ago, after their school burned down.” He put down the glass slowly. “Who do you know in Frisco?”
A bitter taste came to my mouth. “It’s not someone’s grandma, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Leave town.”
My gaze shot to his.
His eyes were serious. “If you’re saying you know a Red Demon, you need to go. Now. I’m not speaking based on rumors. I know. Personally. We’ve had run-ins with them, and they are bad news. Go. Wherever you came from, go back. Leave the Red Demons alone. I cannot stress that enough.”
Well. This visit just took a turn.
I knew he was speaking the truth, and what he was saying was right. He meant it. He meant well, but he didn’t know. I had a sister to find, though I didn’t know why. But I did.
My phone lit up.
Unknown: Where are you?
No need to guess who that was.