Curiosity Killed the Cat

Chapter 13. Ms. Big Bear

Over fifty people sat at dozens of green velvet tables, chatting among themselves. Most wasted or high as the sky.

The large space that we stand in is dimly lit and smelt of strong alcohol and nicotine. Our only source of light was an expensive looking chandelier that hung in the middle of the open room. "Isn't this cute," Wesley lets out as his eyes wander across the room. I glare over at Wesley not wanting his dry humor right now. My body swims with nerves just looking at everyone in here.

Turning to look over at me, Connor continues, "Look, I have no idea who Big Bear is." The three of us stand in an awkward stance at the corner of searching for the possible Big Bear. He could be anyone really. "Seriously, Cameron? What was the point of you coming with us if you don't even know who this Big Bear is?" Wesley crosses his arm as he faces Connor.

Wesley stands about three feet taller than Connor making him seem tinier. "Hey it's Connor, you dick!" A hint of a smirk appears on Wesley's face.

"And I got you two in so why are we complaining? I mean I thought you two just wanted to scope out the place."

"Well, that was part of our plan." I shrug feeling a tad embarrassed that we didn't ask Connor more questions before coming here.

"Although I've been here only a few times, I can carefully ask around for him." Relief washes over me. "Thank you!" I smile over at him. I just hope we don't seem too suspicious.

"Don't thank me yet. I hear Big Bear has an unusual way of contacting you when you ask for a meeting." I hear a scoff come from beside me. "What are the chances he's going to throw a bag over our heads and pull us in a white van?" asks with hesitation laced across his eyes.

"You seem really tense tonight, Wessy." Wesley eyes Connor. "How about you two head over to the bar and blend in while I ask around." After Connor vanishes through a crowd.

"How much money do you wanna bet Connor is going to be the one throwing the bag over our heads and kidnapping us?" Wesley and I fall in step as we reach the bar. An older man in his early sixties makes contact with me as we sit on a stool. He winks at me causing me to feel sick to my stomach.

"I think we have a 9/10 possibility of that happening." I look around to examine our surroundings. A bartender who's about in their early thirties is whipping up some kind of mixture.

"Should I save us the time and scratch him now?" He chuckled, referring to our prior text message. "I'm not going to stop you."

Glancing to the side again I find that the older man is still looking at me. I shift around on my stool uncomfortably. Of course I'd have to make eye contact with the creepiest man here.

"What can I get for you two kids?" The bartender smiles roughly at the two of us. She seems to have the kindest face I've seen since entering this murky hellhole.

"Don't you need to see an ID," I question. The woman laughs, running a hand through her hot pink hair. "Do you even know where you are, kid?" Wesley and I chuckle along nervously. "She's a funny one isn't she?" Wesley laughs louder to loosen the tension here.

"That you are." The old, creepy man turns to face me. "How about a drink, sweetheart? On me." Before I can speak, Welsey says, "No, she's good."

"I wasn't talking to you young man. Does he speak for you?" I'm too anxious to speak right now so I squeak out "No, I'm good."

"Perhaps you should ditch him and come back with me to somewhere quieter. I'll pay a good price for a good time." The man leans in with a breath stinking of garbage. I feel myself diving into my second panic attack for today.