One Word | H.S.

Chapter Eight

Breakthrough.

~

The foggy room burns my eyes as I gather all the remaining cigars, picking up empty glasses in my already full hands. A few men stumble throughout the club, retrieving their bearings as they head for the door.

Hurry back, you can't let your wives know what you were up to.

My limbs clean tirelessly as my legs feel as though they could snap from below me, the end of my shift slowly approaching.

My job wasn't particularly exhausting but the excessive standing did me in. It wasn't a job in which I had to be overly nice, but I did have to be respectful, even if the customers didn't respect me.

Tonight, however, was different. The presence of Harry threw me as I constantly awaited the opening of the curtained room he had made his way into following our exchange.

Even though I hate you, wrap it. Mary brings the cash in. We need Mary, Harold.

After he had angrily stormed away, I didn't see him for the remainder of my shift. As I was mixing drinks, my eyes would continuously shoot to the room, anxious on the return of the devil.

The feeling was similar to when one would send a risky text message. Even though you're petrified of their response, you can't stop yourself from constantly checking.

This time, however, I couldn't hide behind a screen. I tried hiding behind the bar and, well, we know how that turned out.

I am not a pussy.

Okay, fuck, maybe just a little bit.

Ryder ended up behind the bar with me again, conveniently arriving after Harry had already departed. He was a little too nice, making up for the asshole move he made prior.

My confusion on Harry's whereabouts lingered as I finish my closing tasks, knowing that the only exit for customers is the front door. There are only two doors within the entire establishment, the employee door and the front.

I convinced myself he escaped while I was looking down or as I was using the bathroom.

Though, he doesn't seem like the type to not make his presence known. I had a feeling he would either slam a glass or angrily huff as he yanked the door open.

He seemed quite angry when I rejected the drink and possible conversation.

Not angry because he wasn't able to spend time with me, angry because he didn't get what he wanted. Though he intimidated me, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of "winning me over", especially after how he treated me.

I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt, knowing everyone is innocent until proven guilty. Harry, now, has proven his crime multiple times: the first being at the dive bar and the second being at his apartment.

Mary, along with the mousy stripper that was glued to her side, had gone on stage a few more times during my shift, confusing me more as they were the ones Harry was with in the suite.

Pushing the thoughts of Harry out of my mind, I bring the dirty rags to the kitchen, throwing them in the laundry bin as I clocked out. I bid farewell to a few of the maintenance staff before grabbing my belongings.

Ryder's shift was from six to two, leaving me alone for the remaining two hours that the club was open. The requests died down as more customers would leave, making me almost wish we had a bustling crowd.

I push open the heavy door as the quietness of the street soothes my ears, the ringing from the thunderous club slowly fading away.

I manage a few meters before I hear additional footsteps, my heart pounding as I creep my head over my shoulder.