I looked down at Rainbow. “She’s finally feeling safe. After everything she’s been through, I’m not about to wake her up.”
“So, you’re just going to sit on the floor? For how long?”
I settled back against the cabinet, adjusting my position so Rainbow could sleep more comfortably. “For as long as she needs. Or until my shift starts tonight. Whichever comes first.”
As her little body began to snore softly against my legs, I felt something shift inside me. Like a lock clicking open. Like coming home.
Whatever happens next,I thought,at least I did this one thing right.
“You’re working tonight?” Ryker pushed off the wall. Suddenly concerned.
“I have bills to pay.”
“Faith—”
“I can’t afford to not work, Ryker. Those kids I sponsor need food. Housing. Rainbow needs food and housing.”
“What if some creep shows up?”
“Creeps show up every night. It’s a bar.”
“That’s not what I mean. Your story hit the news, Faith. Someone might recognize you. And if they do, we have no idea how they might react.”
Oh, someone was about to recognize me all right. And it was about to go even worse than Ryker imagined …
35
FAITH
“Brett wants to see you in his office.” Chloe’s voice carried that particular note of dread reserved for root canals. “Now.” The sympathy in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. Another female bartender had been summoned to the lair.
Shit.
Or maybe Ryker was right; maybe people had seen the news story.
I could not lose this job. Not now. If Brett fired me, no other employer in the city would touch a murder suspect.Local Bartender Charged with Murderdoesn’t exactly screamreliable employee.
I took a deep breath, the familiar scent of expensive whiskey and leather failing to calm my nerves.
Brett Fontaine—forty-two, divorced twice, and possessing all the charm of a backed-up sewer—had been promoted to head manager a year ago. When I first got hired, I’d convinced myself someone like him couldn’t last. Leadership would see through his bullshit eventually.
File that under Things I Couldn’t Have Been More Wrong About.
Instead, they’d given him more power. I could only assume heexcelled at the parts of his job that didn’t involve actual humans. Because people skills? The man had the emotional intelligence of a brick wall. With mold.
The thing was, I needed this job. High-end clientele meant high-end tips. Flexible hours let me search for day work. Work I planned to use to supplement my income so I could open a second home for aged-out kids.
Or do more with the one I had …
If I even had a future outside a cell.
My stomach churned as I walked down the narrow hallway.
The old Faith would have already been crafting her mask, figuring out exactly what Brett wanted to see. Apologetic? Grateful? I’d spent thirty-three years shapeshifting into whatever kept me safe.
But maybe it was time to stop running from who I was.
I knocked on his door, the sound too loud in the quiet corridor.
