Page 57 of Legends: Easton
The smell of grease hung heavy in the air, but Easton barely noticed it anymore. He gave the kitchen a once-over to make sure there wasn’t something else he could take care of before returning to tend the bar. The overflowing garbage can at the back of the kitchen caught his eye.
“Hey, I’ll take the trash to the dumpster for you. Be back in a sec.”
“Sure thing,” Marty shouted back, though he was preoccupied with his food prep.
Easton shook his head, not even sure if Marty heard what he said or just gave a blanket response when he heard Easton talking to him. He pulled the garbage bag from the can, shaking it to settle the trash in the bag so he could close it. Replacing the full bag with a fresh one, he lifted the trash bag high as he stepped out into the alley, heading toward the dumpster.
They usually waited to take the trash out at the end of the night, but he hated letting it build up until it overflowed the can. The trip to the dumpster was a quick one, and once the doorclosed behind him, the alley was quiet with only a few crickets chirping to break the silence.
With a hefty toss, the bag landed in the large metal container with athunk.Easton turned back and drew up short.
A shadow loomed in front of him, using the dark recesses of the alley to hide his identity. Easton could tell the figure was tall, muscular, and imposing. Any bar patrons this time of night were inside or in the parking lot out front. For the man to be in the alley meant he was up to something, and Easton braced himself for a confrontation.
“No one’s allowed back here, friend. Why don’t you head inside and grab a drink? On the house. Just tell them the bartender sent you.”
The man stepped closer to him, this time under the moon’s illumination.Shit. Easton could make out enough of the man’s features to know he was staring face-to-face with Clive Melvin.
The man kept his slow approach, and Easton shifted to the side to keep distance between them. As much as he wanted to pound the man into the ground, he refused to make the first move. He pegged the man as too smart for that. He would be prepared, putting Easton at a disadvantage.
Easton couldn’t resist baiting him, though. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, but you’ve kept yourself hidden.”
The man shrugged nonchalantly. “No one finds me until I’m ready to be found.”
The Eastern European accent was unexpected. Nothing in their research into Melvin revealed his origin, so he had to wonder if the accent was legit or meant to mask his identity.
“Right,” Easton continued. “Good point. Still, though, you took a while coming out from whatever rock you were under.”
“Most people aren’t too happy for me to come around.”
Easton barked a derisive laugh. “You’re dumber than I gave you credit for. I needed you to come around, so we could end this once and for all. I’m not letting you near her.”
“It’s almost touching, isn’t it? How he thinks he’s protecting her?”
That gave Easton pause. Was the guy talking to himself? In third person? Not only did their intel not hit on his accent, it also didn’t indicate a history of mental illness. Easton didn’t realize what was going on until it was too late.
The split-second sensation of a prick to his skin where his neck and his back met had him whirling around, but by then, the fast-acting drug he’d been given was doing its job. He stumbled at the sudden weakness in his legs, and the world spun around him.
A figure emerged from the shadows, this form slighter. The image blurred, preventing him from noting any details on the second person in the alley. As Easton dropped to his knees, he blinked to focus his double-vision on her face.
Her arms hung straight at her sides, a syringe dangling from the fingertips of one hand. The face that stared back at him was cold, ripping any traces of beauty from the brown skin and delicate bones of her face. Her steps were measured as she moved closer to him, stopping just short of stepping on him as Easton’s strength faded away.
He fell with a hard thud to the ground. Blackness crowded into his vision. The woman’s icy voice filled his ears.
“It is a shame, how you want to protect her only to be the reason she comes to us. But it’s almost poetic how the two of you will die together.”
Though he fought against the drug’s pull, Easton was no match for its effects. He slipped into the abyss of unconsciousness.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bailee laughed at a joke Ben made, but then her gaze wandered back to the bar. The woman filling drink orders looked almost as overwhelmed as the waitresses covering the tables. She let her gaze drift around the bar, looking for the familiar face that occupied her thoughts. But she never saw that charming smile, smoldering brown eyes, or broad back that bore her fingernail scratches beneath his T-shirt.
Where had Easton gone?
“Bailee? You okay?”
She whipped her head back around to find Melody studying her curiously. Melody’s question brought all eyes on her, and Bailee squirmed under the stares.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
