Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
38
QUINTON
I stare at the blank screen of my phone. The words CAMERA OFFLINE, the only thing staring back at me. Fuck. She must have found them.
“It’s green, you know.” Scarlet giggles from the passenger seat. “Who are you texting?” She tries to grab my phone from my hand, but I’m faster, stuffing the device back into my pocket as I push down on the gas.
“I wasn’t texting. Just checking on something.”
“Apparently, nothing good because your mood just went from bad to worse.”
“You’re not wrong.” The thought of not being able to spy on Aspen while I’m here has me irritated and disappointed. “I need a drink. Ever been to a bar?”
“Sure. Dad sometimes drops me off at a sleazy biker bar downtown and picks me up the next day,” Scarlet jokes.
“Well, this one won’t be as sleazy as you’re used to then, but they serve booze, so it’ll do.”
I pull the car into the parking lot of my favorite bar. Yes, I’m nineteen, and technically, not legal to drink, but when your dad is the head of the mob, people don’t check your ID.
“Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“We’re just having a drink. No one will mess with us here. They know who we are.”
“Okay.” Scarlet nods, but the tone of her voice tells me she is still not sure about this.
“It will be fine,” I promise. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
My words must ease her mind because her lips turn into a grin, and she reaches for the door handle.
“All right, let’s go have some fun.”
We exit the car, and I lock it with the key fob on our way to the front door. We enter the bar quickly, getting out of the frigid December air. Scarlet stays so close to me, it must look like she is tied to my side. The space is dimly lit, but with Christmas music softly playing in the background and multicolored lights strung up around the place, it doesn’t look or feel that bad.
“Wow, there are a lot of people here for it being Christmas and all,” Scarlet says low enough for only me to hear.
“I’m actually surprised there is room at the bar at all. People like to drink on holidays, especially when they have family problems,” I explain.
I lead us to the only two empty stools on the long L-shaped bar. Scarlet scoots the stool as close as she can to mine before she sits down. A guy sits on the other side of her, but when he recognizes me, he moves his own chair away from us, giving Scarlet even more room.
“Um… hi, I’m Sherry,” the young female bartender greets us nervously, swiping her thick blonde bangs from her forehead as she forces herself to smile. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have whatever top-shelf bourbon you have, neat, and she’ll have a vodka cranberry.” I nod toward Scarlet.
Sherry glances over at Scarlet but doesn’t question my drink choice for her. She scurries away and starts pouring our drinks with trembling hands. I watch as she almost knocks the glass over twice, and I wonder if our drinks are going to make it in one piece. Surprisingly, she manages to sit them in front of us a few moments later with minimal liquid spilled.
“Thank you,” Scarlet mumbles quietly and lifts her glass to her lips. She takes a few small sips, wrinkling her nose at the taste, but then takes another large gulp. “This is good. Not too strong, but not too sweet.”
“I figured you’d like it.”
This isn’t the first time Scarlet’s had alcohol. My parents let her drink a glass of wine with dinner often, which is why I know she doesn’t like her drink to be too sweet. Adela used to be the same way.
The thought of our sister sends a flare of pain through my chest like it always does, but today, it seems to hurt even more than normal.
Wrapping my hand around the glass, I bring it to my lips and down the entire contents. The bourbon burns my throat slightly but settles in my stomach with a comforting warmth.
I motion for Sherry to bring me a refill, and she does right away, even though she is in the middle of pouring someone else a beer.
I drink my second glass just as fast, adding to the heat in my gut. I’m about to ask for another refill when Scarlet grabs my arm.
“Unless you want us to Uber home, you need to stop drinking.” If it was anyone else besides Scarlet, I would tell them to fuck off, but the soft spot I have for my baby sister doesn’t allow me to yell at her.
“I’m fine, but you are probably right. I should slow down. Tell me about school. Any boyfriends I need to beat up?”