“Oh, boo,” I wrote back. “Just because you have a serious man doesn’t mean that you can’t have some serious fun.”
“I think I would be out, too,” Elizabeth wrote. “I live far away, and Steele and I need a night in together.”
“Ugh,” I wrote back.
They had becomeso boring.I got it; we all took a step back from our friend circles whenever we found that special someone. But God almighty, did we have to take a giant chasm of a leap back from our friend circles?
And for real…it would be nice if I could have someone like that.
Even if I seem to be repeating myself.
But that was the thing. Connor looked like some of my exes. He looked like the kind of guy that would make a grandmother faint and a father ready his shotguns.
But call me blinded by lust or call me just desperate, or better yet, don’t call me anything; I still thought he was a little bit different.
I just had to hope that he was different in the way that didn’t imply he’d only want one-night stands.
And yet, of the remaining single guys, Connor was easily the most one-night-standing of them all. Zack was nice and sweet, but he was just a kid. I had to admit, I’d probably kiss him if I could, but I wanted something real. Mason was…well, Mason had his own issues that had been laid bare since Garrett knocked up his sister. I didn’t need someone with anger issues so bad they beat up whoever offended them.
Rich. You think Connor is different?
Actually, I did. But I didn’t have a good reason for it.
“Well, I may go to Reapers by myself anyway,” I wrote. “And then I’ll have stories to tell you all that will make you jealous.”
Elizabeth and Tara both responded with laughing emojis. Justine, probably pretty wisely, wasn’t partaking in this particular conversation. She was on the quieter side, anyway, and didn’t come out drinking with us as much. She was more of a homebody. Great friend, just not the kind that I took out with me drinking often.
I looked at the clock. It was a minute until closing time. No one was in the store. Since I owned the store, I could do what I wanted, and so I started to close it down.
And then I heard the loud, boorish laughter behind me as the door to the store swung open.The fucking Bandits.
I knew them well. They didn’t cause excessive trouble, but they were the kind of guys who would yell “fuck!” as loudly as they could to get a reaction out of religious mothers. Sometimes, they’d try and smuggle out some candy or some soda. Generally, my approach was to get them out as soon as I could. I could handle having a candy bar or two smuggled out in exchange for not escalating the danger with the store.
“Closing up already, Katie?”
Damian.Damian and I had had our fair share of encounters. I think he relished the fact that I didn’t back down from assholes like him; he thought it was funny. I didn’t know why he didn’t seem to realize I found nothing about his antics funny.
“Did you forget how to tell time, Damian? It’s eight o’clock. That means it’s time for the convenience store to close. Gas pumps are open twenty-four-seven.”
“Yes, but we walked in here a few seconds beforehand, which means that you can’t kick us out, bitch!”
The Bandit beside him clapped his shoulder and congratulated him on his “hilarious” burn. I knew they were deliberately acting like kids because it annoyed me, but even if they were being their typical fighting selves like they were around the Black Reapers, I’d still find them annoying as hell.
“Except that I can, and if you keep this up, I will,” I said.
Damian looked at me, cocked an eyebrow in exaggerated fashion, and chuckled.
“Katie, do you know how unconstitutional that is?”
“Do you know how idiotic you sound dropping words when you don’t know what they mean?” I said. “This is private property where I conduct business. As it is my private property, my rules supersede whatever stupid-ass understanding you have of ‘unconstitutional.’ And my rules state if you don’t respect my damn place, you can get the hell out.”
Damian turned to me, chuckled some more as if he couldn’t believe what I had just said, and walked to me. Along the way, he pushed back his jacket to reveal a gun, doing so in a fashion that made it seem like it was an accident, but I was fully aware that it was not an accident.
That was a step a bit too far past my comfort zone. I could talk tough and I could talk down an awful lot of assholes, but someone willing to bring a gun into a gas station like this—and then flash said gun to the store owner when threatened with being kicked out—was not someone that I needed to talk too much shit to. I didn’t want my cause of death to be “said one too many words to a customer.”
“You best behave yourself, Miss Lane,” Damian said. “Ricardo! Hurry up and grab the damn beer!”
The rest of the transaction went fine enough. Damian comported himself like a “gentleman,” thanking me for being open so late, even as he said it with the sneering sarcasm of an asshole that deserved to have his face pounded into the pavement. He left without flashing his gun.
