Page 80 of Rules to Love By

“Exactly,” Kreed said. “And while I know it wasn’t your end goal, you helping Tris get here, him coming to work for us, that’s what saved me and Lucky. So you did more than just help Tris. You helped us without even knowing it. Consider this an investment. Some day, when you have something someone else needs, when you’re in a position to give them a leg up, remember this moment and know you’ve paid us back.”

Marcus picked up the card and turned it end over end a few times before finally nodding and sliding it into his pocket as he stood. “Can I borrow your scooter?”

“Um. Sure? Why?”

“I just need a bit of space. Clear my head. And I promised someone I’d do something before the end of the weekend.”

Kreed made a show of looking at the old-school watch he always wore. “Cutting it a bit close there, aren’t you?”

“A bit.”

“Help yourself.” Kreed waved at the row of hooks next to the back door. “Be careful, and wear the helmet.”

“Yes, Dad.”

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Going on hour nine of a Sunday shift he wasn’t even supposed to be working, Eli was tempted to ignore the exhaustion creeping up his legs and into his back. It was easier to be tired and sore physically than to examine how he felt about his phone not ringing. He’d been waiting days for Marcus to make it ring, and nothing.

But then the patron in front of him, waving a fifty-dollar bill across the bar, deliberately turned a shoulder to Eli and asked the blond, blue-eyed, already busy tender next to Eli for his order.

Like Eli wasn’t even there.

“Fuck it.” Digging his phone from his pocket, he shot a quick text to his boss, letting him know he was clocking off, then turned to Rudy, the other bartender. A tap on the shorter bartender’s shoulder got his attention.

“S’up?”

“Crowd’s thinned enough, I think. Been nine hours, and Leah will be here to help you close. I’m out, yeah?”

“Dude, I can’t believe you came in at all. I appreciate it, but you need to learn the word no, my friend. Darren is taking serious advantage of you.”

Eli leaned close so he didn’t have to yell over the music. “I didn’t come in for him. I came so you didn’t have to handle the entire day and the rush on your own. But I’m beat.”

“You go. I appreciate you.”

“See you when I see you.”

“Surely.”

Catching the eye of the customer who’d looked through him trying to get Rudy to serve him, Eli reached out, as if to take his money. At the last minute, he flipped him a finger and a wink, then turned and walked away. When he came out of the back with his coat in hand, the guy still hadn’t been served.

Rudy was probably going to lose some tips there. But when his fellow bartender handed over his portion of the day’s tips and fist-bumped him on the way out, he figured Rudy didn’t much care about the asshole’s gratuity. Nice to know he had Eli’s back.

At the far end of the bar, a few regulars waved to him as he headed for the back of the room where the rear door was propped open with a brick. Eli nodded to the bouncer perched on a high stool as he left.

“Later,” the big man said.

Eli grunted.

Out in the cool evening air of the alley, he was surprised to find it wasn’t pitch-black out yet. The days were definitely getting longer. It was nice enough for a walk, which was fine, since he’d left his truck at his apartment. It was too big to park on the street, and the bar didn’t have its own lot, so he’d taken the subway to work, as he usually did.

Tonight, he made a stop at the Hen and Hog for something to eat. That turned into an extra beer while he kibitzed with Landon and Jed, the bartenders on duty, and then another when Landon’s shift ended and he joined Eli on his side of the counter.

It was well past dark when he finally waved goodbye to them and headed for his apartment.

He couldn’t honestly say he’d chosen the route home that led past the Egg Basket. It happened without his conscious will. He remembered the building as a proud stately brick structure with carved stone on the front and plate glass windows, wavy with age, at street level.

What greeted him as he approached was a dirty, boarded-up and graffitied old derelict crouching on the corner, like an old man about to shout the neighbourhood kids off his lawn.

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