Page 23 of Hallow’s Eve
“Ex. And we were just friends.”
“Fuck friends, I assume.”
Hallow turned it on me. “That text from Wolf. What was all that about? Got him so hard…”
“Nothing. I don’t know. I never received it.”
“Where’s your phone?” he demanded.
“In my locker like it’s been all night. We’re not allowed to keep them on us anymore. Grady’s rules.”
“You been in here to check it?”
“A few times.”
“Let’s see it.”
“Okay,” I said, shaking my neck with attitude. I had nothing to hide. I grabbed my apron off the table, always aware that my earnings were in it. I’d stuff it away, as well. Standing up, I walked to my locker, the third one from the right. They weren’t numbered. Seizing the lock, getting ready to put my combination in, I found it undone. After my last break, in my haste to get back on the floor, I probably left it unlocked. Removing the bolt, I lifted the latch. I shoved my apron inside and retrieved my pocketbook, a simple, no-name brown leather clutch. Unzipping, I dug out my cell and handed it to Hallow who’d been on my heels.
He handed it back. “Passcode.”
I typed in my numbers, and we looked at my phone together. Our heads bumped as I clicked on my texts, on Grady who was in my phone as Bossman.
“Bossman, eh?”
“He’s my boss.”
Hallow huffed.
“You jealous?” Then I huffed, cause Lord almighty. The man was dead. There was no reason to be jealous.
To my surprise, there sat Grady’s suggestive text, about a mile long. Hallow and I skimmed it. His proposals were nasty, saying all he wanted to do to me. Some things I didn’t know were possible or legal. At the bottom of the text the read receipt said, Read at 11:15pm. And it looked like I sent an eggplant emoji back at the same time. But I hadn’t. “What in the… I didn’t do this. At eleven fifteen, I was knee deep in orders. My locker was unlocked.”
Hallow’s features dissolved into a scowl. “What do you mean? You didn’t say?”
“You were right here. I didn’t put in my combination. I didn’t think I had to say it. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t read his text or send the eggplant.”
Hallow’s nostrils flared, and his face reddened like he didn’t believe me. That’s when the lights flickered before going off completely.
I reached for him in the dark, finding his hand. “I promise I didn’t send that.”
His hand limp, he didn’t respond.
The lights came back on.
Walking away, Hallow didn’t say a word. For the first time I saw his back without his wings. A big three-piece biker patch tattoo covered most of it.
I shouted, “Why are you mad? You lied to me.”
Following him out front, I discovered Elvis had left the stage. The bar sat eerily silent as a crowd huddled in the middle of the dance floor. Riff hollered for everyone to get back. The people parted and a biker laid on the ground. The one they’d left to guard the door laid in a pool of blood. Dimple checked his pulse, his face looking grim. I caught up to Hallow to peek around his bulky frame.
“Must’ve happened when the lights went out,” he said loudly, addressing everyone.
“Now someone’s picking us off,” Greta screeched.
The crowd grew louder with folks complaining.
Celie announced, “I’m calling the cops.”
