Page 5 of Flash (Iron Thunder MC 2)
Maybe Hank knew something was wrong, because I could sense him eyeing me more closely tonight.
I worked behind the counter, serving drinks and making small talk with anyone who came up to me.
“Hey, you okay, kid?” Hank asked at one point. He must have noticed the way my hand shook as I poured a shot of tequila.
I looked up at him, trying to get my face as blank and devoid of expression as possible.
“Yeah, I’m good, I’m great. Everything is fine.”
Hank wasn’t buying it. I served up the tequila and took a step back from the counter.
“You wanna take a break? Go outside and have a smoke?” he asked.
“I don’t smoke,” I said quickly.
“Right…yeah, I forgot. Well, take a break anyway. Go get some fresh air?”
“I don’t want to go outside,” I insisted, a little louder this time.
Hank’s brows furrowed.
“Sorry, Hank, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” I said, wringing my hands together. I caught him looking at my fingers and the way I was pressing them. Obviously, he could tell something was wrong. “I’m just tired, I guess. I’ll be fine tomorrow, I promise. I’m really sorry.”
I gulped. There was a very real possibility I wouldn’t be here tomorrow. If I couldn’t shake off the feeling that Billy was in this town, that he knew where I was—I would be gone by then.
Hank took in a deep breath and nodded.
“Well, rest up tonight. Whatever’s going on with you, kid, figure it out. You’re too young to be worried about stupid shit,” he said and finally smiled.
I forced myself to smile too.
“Yeah, I’ll make sure to get in a good night’s sleep.”
“Look, if you want to go up and take a shower tonight after your shift, feel free,” he added.
“Do I really look like I need one?” I asked with a chuckle.
Hank shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s not what I’m sayin’, but you sure look like you could do with some quiet time. A shower always helps me relax.”
He walked away from the counter then, to go back to doing whatever he was doing. Someone came up asking for a beer and I snapped back to work mode.
I was grateful for Hank and for his offer, but the more time went by, the more I was beginning to realize I couldn’t stick around here for very long. Those footsteps in the parking lot, the rustling behind the car—even if it was all in my head, had spooked me.
I couldn’t shake off the feeling that Billy was here, and couldn’t take the chance of waiting to find out.
I pushed myself to make it through the rest of my shift. I made some tips which I collected in my bag. My shift was nearly over and I told Hank I’d take him up on his offer.
“You’re right, I could really use a shower tonight,” I said and he smiled.Twenty months ago, in the house I thought Billy had bought with his savings, he’d got a bathtub installed for me.
I’d grown up without one but always dreamt about it. I’d felt loved and cherished then, like Billy actually saw me. He knew what I wanted—my deepest and most precious desires.
Very quickly, that bathtub became my safe space.
It was where I went to after another particularly grueling day. I submerged myself in the lavender-scented soapy water and remained there till the water was so cold that I could feel my bones freezing.
My relationship with that bathtub changed over the course of the next few months. It was more than a luxury; it was my last thread of hope.
And now I was standing in a small glass cubicle in a bathroom on the floor above the bar. I could hear the thump of the music seeping up through the floor. Hank was still down there, closing up, trying his best to get rid of the drunks now passed out around the place.
I could feel the strong pressure of the jets overhead, washing away the grime off my hair and skin. My bag of clothes lay at the bathroom door.
I’d change into another version of what I was wearing today, jeans and a plaid shirt. I kept it simple, didn’t want to be noticed, wanting to blend in the crowd.
There was soap and shampoo, which I used and then used my towel to dry myself as best I could. I was going to wash my used clothes and underwear in the sink and then lay all the damp clothes to dry in the front seat of the car that night.
It would take a few days before they would be dry enough for use again.
It was amazing how this routine seemed so normal and acceptable now, even though nothing about it should have been acceptable. I was forced to be homeless. Forced into exile.
I had the burden of secrets to carry on my shoulders; they were weighing me down. Very soon, I’d explode and there would be pieces of me shattered all over the place. I just wanted to rest, just wanted to stop running. For once in my life, I wanted to make the right decision, and not feel so foolish.
