Page 21 of Marked
He would take care of me. He had to, because I couldn’t bear it if he didn’t.
Fixing my makeup to the bare minimum just to make myself presentable in order to be seen in public, I shrugged on my jacket and pushed my phone into my back pocket. The new, much sturdier knife I had purchased went into my boot. With a deep breath, I finally convinced myself to walk out the door.
I made my way back to The Salty Dog. The flickering neon lights outside usually put me off, but tonight they seemed to beckon me. I prayed that Alaric would be waiting inside for me even though I knew that the chances were likely pretty slim. It was a shred of hope, though, and I held onto it like a lifeline in a storm.
When I walked inside, the redheaded owner Richie was working the bar. He lifted his eyes to meet mine and smirked. I looked around for Alaric, but I didn’t see him anywhere. My heart fell, and I took a seat at the bar, hoping Richie might come over so that I could ask him where the only man I wanted to fuck was.
I’d never even asked for Alaric’ last name. All I knew was that he had an apartment above the bar that he’d likely rented fromRichie. He owned the place, so that was the only clue I had to go on, and if Richie knew Alaric well enough to rent him an apartment, he had to know more about him, right? At least, that’s what I was hoping for.
So, I waited. I shrugged off anyone who tried to talk to me and ignored men as they tried to buy me drinks, using my best resting bitch face to scare them off. With enough effort, it worked, and they eventually left me alone. Finally, Richie made his way over to me and leaned over the bar, lifting his eyebrows expectantly.
“What brings you back here?” he asked nonchalantly, as if he didn’t know. It was written all over the rat-faced bastard’s face.
“Is Alaric around? I’m looking for him,” I answered. I would have decked him if I hadn’t needed whatever knowledge was hidden inside his head.
“He’s been gone for a few weeks. Picked up the bounty he was looking for and then got the fuck out of here,” he replied, cocking his head toward me as he stared me down. It was like he was studying me. Like he was looking at me as though he knew something I didn’t.
“Do you know where he went? Maybe somehow I can contact him?” I pressed. I really needed just a little clue from Richie right now, and anything was better than nothing.
“No. He never leaves any information behind. He’ll show up here again eventually though. He always does,” Richie said.
I sighed.
“Do you know his last name?” I tried next, my last desperate hope slowly dying inside.
“No. Pays in cash every time. Large bills,” he said.
I drew back and sighed, feeling myself fall back into that same pit of despair I’d been wallowing in that morning.
“Have you ever heard of the Lupenii Fund?” I asked, my voice trembling as I forced myself to not cry in public. I gritted my teeth and sat back in the chair, staring at the ginger-haired bartender. His lips tensed in a firm line as he stilled, and he tried to cover it up by grabbing a rag and wiping off the top of the bar.
Fucker definitely knew something, and he wasn’t telling.
“Come on, Richie. Give me something, or I’ll spread a rumor about how The Salty Dog encourages drugging and raping chicks to make a quick buck. I’ll bring the cops here myself,” I threatened. Richie didn’t even flinch.
“Unlikely. You wouldn’t know it, but I have a great many friends that keep them out of my bar. Rich friends that pay a great deal for a safe place to conduct their business,” he warned, and I wilted.
I did the only other thing I could think of. I begged him for help.
“Do you think you can get Alaric a message somehow? Let him know that I’m looking for him?” I pleaded. “Please. I don’t think there’s anyone else that can help me. I’ll do anything.”
He stared at me closely.
“Anything?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow once again.
“Well, anything other than fuck you or anyone else here kind of anything,” I retorted with a deep frown, and he chuckled.
“No. Not like that. Why don’t you work here for a little while? Maybe until we get word that he’s coming back. You could even use his room,” Richie offered.
“It’s available?” I asked.
“Yeah. I usually keep it vacant unless he’s around,” he answered.
“It’ll make my commute shorter if I can live up there,” I mused, and he looked strangely pleased with himself. I stared hard at him for a moment, but he gave away nothing.
God. What a slime ball.
“The room’s yours then, if you take the job,” he pressed.
