Page 59 of Resist

It took Petey a second to direct his focus to her face. Finally, her words sank in. “I don’t know. I was watching the game. Didn’t know you weren’t behind the bar.”

Ainsley returned to the cash register, a pit in her stomach starting to form. Turning the key, she hit the button to open the cash drawer.

Empty.

That motherfucker!

Since the drawer hadn’t been jimmied or broken, and considering Eli had gotten in and out so quickly, there was only one way he could have opened it. There were two keys to the register, and since she had hers…

She pulled her cell from her back pocket, dreading this call.

“What?” Mick barked.

“Where is your key to the register?” she asked.

“Why?”

“Where is it, Mick?”

“On my fucking key ring, where it always is. Did you lose your goddamn key? Because if you did, I swear to sweet fucking Jesus, I’ll?—”

“I have mine.” She cut him off before he could make his threat. “Go check your key ring.”

Ainsley pulled the phone from her ear as Mick let loose with a string of breathy curses. She let him rage, since she also heard him put down the leg to the recliner. Given the fact he was losing steam and no longer able to yell at her due to a lack of air, she figured he was walking to his bedroom. He kept his keys in a bowl on the nightstand.

When she heard him mutter, “Where the fuck is it?” her suspicions were confirmed.

Eli had obviously been waiting outside the bar for her to leave her station.

“Eli was just here. The register’s empty.”

Despite his inability to breathe, Mick still managed to launch into one hell of a breathless tirade. Mercifully, eighty percent of his ire was directed at Eli, but it still wasn’t going to make for a pleasant evening at home later. Especially when he asked where she’d been, and she said the bathroom. Apparently, she should have a better grip on her bodily functions. Good to know.

“How much did he get?”

Ever since the attack, Ainsley had stopped leaving a lot of cash in the register, shifting the majority of it to the safe. “Maybe a hundred bucks.”

While it wasn’t a lot, it was more than they could afford to lose, considering they were also down the two hundred bucks Mario and Luigi stole last week. At this point, Ainsley was starting to worry they wouldn’t be able to cover the rent.

“I’m going to kill that motherfucker,” Mick said, with enough rage that Ainsley believed him. Mick’s health was declining every day, and she couldn’t help but think a man with limited time left and nothing to lose was a dangerous combination. “If he shows his face here, I’m going to blow his fucking brains out.”

“I gotta go. Customers,” she lied, left uneasy by Mick’s threats, especially since he’d bought a gun a couple of years ago for home protection after someone had kicked in the door to their apartment and stolen their TV. Ainsley had seen Mick pissed off before, but lately, his anger had progressed to the next level.

She didn’t dare tell Mick that she’d shown up this morning to discover someone had painted the words “slut” and “cunt” on the front of the building. While she couldn’t prove it was Mario and Luigi, they obviously weren’t the type to let an unpaid debt—or an ass-kicking—go unanswered.

She would have to find a way to get the graffiti covered without letting Mick know, because he sure as hell didn’t need any more ammo against Eli.

Ainsley bowed her head, trying to stretch the kinks out of her neck, exhaustion kicking in hard. The past four days had been a good wake-up call. Because this was as good as her life got, and all the dreaming and wishing in the world wouldn’t change that fact.

“I’m heading out,” Petey said, handing her a tatty ten to cover his beers. She handed him his change, unsurprised when he didn’t add anything to the tip jar, then she gave him a half-hearted wave as he left.

She glanced down the bar at the two old guys slumped over the counter. They’d come in together, but you wouldn’t know it, given the fact they’d said less than four words to each other. She could probably shoo them along and close early, but what was the point? It wasn’t like there was anything better waiting for her at home. In fact, given Mick’s current mood, she was tempted to call Maren to see if she could crash on her couch tonight.

Needing to keep herself awake, she picked up a dishcloth and started working her way around the tavern, wiping down tables that weren’t dirty simply to have something to do.

She’d just finished wiping down the last booth when the door opened, and she turned, grateful for customers.

She frowned when Coulton walked in.

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