Page 5 of Small Town Beast

He stared at her. “Is you sick?”

“Can you make it or not?”

“Sure, I’s can make it.” He looked like the kid from thatRatatouillemovie she had seen with Amari the other day.

“Here you go,” said the bartender, setting the drink before her.

“You put cloves in the lemon?”

“My granny likes it that way.”

“Thanks.”Why did I think this was a good idea?

“You’re some pretty for a— you’re some pretty,” the kid blundered in a burst of bravery. “If I had my money right, you wouldn’t have to sit there.”

Tanya was about to reply when a large man shoved his bulk into the seat next to hers. He smelled rank, like sweat and cigarettes. Tanya tried to put Amari’s face in her mind. She tried to be strong, for Amari.

“You lookin’ to get fucked tonight?” the monster breathed in her ear. “I can make it worth your while.”

Tanya shut her eyes and prayed she would remember nothing in the morning.

By the timeSaverin got to the Turnkey, getting drunk had become his top priority. But the minute he walked up the gravel parking lot a passel of his cousins forestalled him.

“Woah there, it’s Bailey.”

“Saverin!”

“That can’t be Saverin.”

“It’s him— see his face?”

Saverin returned the niceties even as his heart wished them all at the bottom of a mine. They stared openly at the bubbly, destroyed flesh on the left side of his head.

One of the more senior McCalls elbowed forward. “Saverin. How are you holding up?”

“Dandy,” said Saverin. Everyone was looking at him like a bomb about to go off.

“Sorry about it, Saverin.”

“Bad stuff, Saverin.”

“Takin’ it easy, Saverin?”

“The good book says,” the older cousin rumbled, “That there’s a time for everything. A time to laugh, a time to weep–”

Saverin jerked his thumb towards the Turnkey. “What’s going down tonight?” he interrupted. “Good spot?”Would they let me take a room? Would they mind scrubbing my brains off the walls?

“Music is good. Eugene’s got a girl working,” a more helpful cousin replied.

Interesting. He hadn’t considered having a woman tonight, but perhaps…

“She pretty?” Saverin grunted.

They all looked at each other, then snickered at some inside joke. “Not my type,” growled the older McCall, who hadn’t laughed at all. “Eugene should know better, but there’s bound to be some creatures that would sink low enough for such.”

Saverin put up his brows at the man’s tone. “That bad, is she?”

“See for yourself.” The McCall cleared his throat. “I understand your cousins, Roman, Rebel, have their preferences, but I myself…”

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