15. Kali

15

KALI

I ’d found Harper and Aly at a local bar that looked like a trendy eatery. The gravel parking lot was filled and there were tables in front, to the side, and behind. The gravel road kept going past to a cute older house behind.

That was nice. If the owners lived there, they could just run over to open up.

Getting in had been a different story.

There was a line out the front door.

I knew they were already inside the bar, so I’d tried a side door. No go. This place had bouncers, so I stepped back, made a call, and Harper came for me.

“We love this town,” he gushed as he guided me to a corner table. “Oh my God. It has everything . Famous people. I recognized two NFL players, and that was just driving around town. Luxury cars. The mansions . OMG! The mansions! They have gates. Have you seen the country club here? A real motherfucking country club, like from the OC.”

Harper rattled off everything they’d seen in the two hours since I’d dropped them at the hotel. Apparently, a power nap did wonders, along with the amount of caffeine and sugar both had inhaled. Also, they still thought I was staying with them. They didn’t know about the motel, but I was going to explain later, after I got Claudia to come back home with me. With us.

We sat down, and Aly joined us a second later, smoothing down her shirt and throwing some hair over her shoulder. She’d been in the bathroom.

She leaned forward, her palms flat on the table and fingers spread. “I’m in love. Love . I’m moving here. I wanted a millionaire farmer? Forget that. I want a millionaire! I’ve gotta meet one here, don’t you think?” A worker walked past, carrying a bin of dirty glasses. She stopped him. “Hey. Are you a millionaire? You single?”

He was tall, with dark hair, attractive. He blinked at her a few times before he grinned. “I’m Brandon, and holy shit do I wish I were a millionaire. Maybe for you, we can pretend I am.” He gave her a once-over with a slight leer that seemed more like a compliment than actually dirty.

Aly blushed. “Oh, wow. Did I make a fool of myself here?” She looked at us. “Did I just do a thing I shouldn’t have done?”

I glanced over her shoulder to Brandon, who was still waiting beside our table. When we made eye contact, he gave me a wink and a grin and disappeared into the kitchen.

Harper started laughing, pounding the table. “You just hit on the busboy, asking if he was a millionaire. He could be eighteen.”

Aly folded her arms and dropped her head to the table. “I’m an idiot. I’m the friend you can’t bring out in public. That’s who I am.”

I frowned. “I don’t think he was eighteen. He didn’t look eighteen.”

“None of them look eighteen here.” Harper grabbed his drink. “This is California. Eighteen is really code for forty-one. They look eighteen, but are forty-one inside. Which is golden for us.” He turned, raising his hand for a high five.

Aly slapped it with hers. “Hell yeah! Forty inside and eighteen outside!”

A few people around us turned to look, but neither of my friends noticed. That’s when I knew. They were well and truly blitzed. Good Lord. They’d driven over thirty hours on the road with me. They did it hoping to talk to me about my ex. We hadn’t actually talked about my ex, and now they were here, in some super cool bar/eatery, hitting on busboys that I wasn’t sure were even busboys, and they did it because they loved me.

Truly blessed. That was me.

I wanted to cry, just sitting here, when a beer landed in front of me. I hadn’t ordered it, but it was perfect. Corona.

When I looked up, Harper was smiling at me. One guess at who ordered it.

I took my beer and mouthed “Thank you” to Harper, who just smiled and waved.

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.

Me: A place called Manny’s.

Unknown: I’m coming for you.

Well. The bad news was coming for me.

I hit call on my phone.

“Daugh-ter. How’s it hanging? You still in California? You know where else you could road trip? To see your old man, that’s where. And by old man, I’m talking your pops. Myself. Yours truly. Oh, and the Old Gents got back together. We’re thinking of doing a reunion tour.”

I had no clue how to respond to that.

Some days my dad could make me speechless. Tonight was one of those nights.

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