The Uber drops us off in a darkened parking lot on the outskirts of town, and I’ve never been more glad to get out of a vehicle. I was surprised to find out they even offered Uber services in a town this size, but apparently, Joey, who holds a day job at the local gas station and is currently saving up for a backpacking adventure Down Under, started up his little side hustle to help pay for the trip.
When I asked him if he was available to give us a ride home later on, he graciously offered to pick us up—no matter the hour—for a twenty-five percent up-charge after midnight. I’m aware he’s gouging me, but knowing it’ll get the kid that much closer to his face-to-face with a kangaroo, I reluctantly agreed. Something Inow thoroughly regret, having been subjected to his erratic driving for the past thirty minutes. I’m ashamed to admit I squealed like a girl when he took a corner too fast, and the rear end skidded sideways before we eventually gained traction again, causing me to knock into Charlie, who looked utterly unperturbed by it all.
I should’ve been the stone-faced one, given the number of high-speed chases I’ve been involved in over the course of my career. But it’s different when the guy who holds your life in his hands is a wannabe street racer at best, and not a highly trained individual. Also, I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s high as a kite, but it seems to be his default setting, and I’m not here on official business, so I decide to let it slide. Staring at the run-down bar through the windshield of Joey’s beat-up Volkswagen Jetta with some trepidation, I try to keep an open mind about the place, but I’ll admit, I’m struggling.
The neon sign showcasing the letters H-E-N-R-Y’s flickers, casting shadows across the sizable lot. A few bikes are parked along the side of the brick building while several cars line the front. Surprisingly busy for a weeknight, but I guess it’s to be expected during tourist season.
When my eyes connect with Mads’ through the rearview mirror, he flashes me a grin, not giving me time to reconsider, and slides out of the idling car.
He opens the back door for the ladies, and I heave a sigh, handing Joey enough cash to cover the fair, plus a generous tip, before following suit.
“Looks like a bit of a dive,” I mutter as we approach the front door, and Maddox, who has his arm casually slung over Dee’s shoulder, rolls his eyes.
“Please, ignore little Eeyore back there,” he addresses the girls. “He doesn’t get out much, and he’s forgotten what it’s like to have fun. Fortunately, I’m here to change that, but if I don’t manage to get a genuine laugh out of him by the end of the night, we should just put him out of his misery. I’m sure there’s a decent spot to bury his body on all that back acreage you’ve got on your property,” he says, throwing Charlie a wink.
Dee giggles, slapping at his pec muscle, and the back of my neck heats as the two women scrutinize me. Have I really been such a miserable asshole these past couple of years that even something as simple as making me laugh has become a challenge? I take a fortifying breath and step around our group, determined to prove them wrong.
Pulling the door to the questionable establishment open, I wait for everyone to pass and take that time to let my eyes roam the room. Always assessing. Never quite able to give up that rigidcontrol, and for some reason, tonight, that bothers me more than it should.
The clientele is colorful, ranging from rambunctious college students to middle-aged men nursing their drink of choice at the bar, to a rowdy group of drunk girls celebrating what appears to be someone’s 40th birthday. A handful of bikers and their scantily clad old ladies take up space around a couple of pool tables along the back wall, and I catch Charlie stop short at the sight. Taking a controlled breath, she resumes her walk and trails Maddox and her friend to the bar.
As Dee mentioned earlier, there’s live entertainment. Some kind of classic rock cover band that certainly isn’t good enough to ever make it big, but decent enough to have people take notice. The small dance floor in front of the stage area is packed, and the bartenders are busy filling a steady stream of orders. The place looks better on the inside than the exterior suggests, and, for that, I’m glad.
We find an opening, and Maddox flags down a member of staff as he relays our orders before he turns around, resting his elbows on the bar top to survey the room.
“Not too shabby for a sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere,” he tells the group at large, but his hungry eyes keepsnagging on the Cleopatra lookalike sensually swaying her hips to the beat of the music.
I know that look, and if I were a betting man, I’d bet the entire contents of my wallet that Dee won’t be going home alone tonight. Maddox might appear all happy-go-lucky on the outside, but make no mistake. Deep down, he’s a motherfucking shark. A predator who can keep up with the worst of them, and he seems to have set his sights on his prey. That unsuspecting little lamb has no idea what she’s in for, teasing him like that. I hope, for Dee’s sake, that she’s ready to put her money where her mouth is, because when Maddox wants something, he gets it. No exceptions.
“It gets crazy here during the summer. You wouldn’t recognize this place a few months from now. It’ll be like a ghost town after Labor Day,” Charlie tells him as the bartender drops off our drinks and Maddox hands him a couple of bills.
“Keep the change,” he says before he hands them out to us and raises his bottle in a toast. “To new friends and new beginnings.” He gives me a pointed look before he flashes the girls a dimpled smile and brings the neck to his lips.
When a booth close to the stage opens up, we move in, claiming the table before someone else has a chance to. The girls end up ordering more margaritas, and the beer flows freely. Conversation is easy, and the mood is light as Maddox entertains the womenwith every embarrassing childhood story he can think of. Charlie is wiping her eyes when he tells them about the time we locked ourselves out on the roof of our group home in an attempt to smoke a joint away from prying eyes.
“They’d just gotten some type of government grant to make some much-needed updates to the building,” he tells the girls, who hang on his every word like he’s preaching gospel. “They installed these fancy, new skylights. You know, the type that pivots if you push at the bottom. So, we were feeling pretty smug, hauling ourselves through the opening, thinking this was a brilliant idea.”
“The idea was solid,” I interject, and can’t help smiling at the memory. “I’ll admit the execution left something to be desired.”
“I’d say. What we didn’t take into consideration was that once you closed it, the locking mechanism kicked in, and there was no way to open it from the outside. The house was a monstrous two-story Victorian, and the window was the only way off that roof. We were pretty much sitting ducks, and we’d just gotten done smoking the biggest blunt we ever shared. We’re so high, we can barely see straight, so naturally, we decide to head back in to satisfy our craving for food. I knew we were fucked when Cole reached for the window and all he said was, ‘uh oh.’”
Dee is holding her stomach, she’s laughing so hard, and even though I must’ve heard this story a dozen times, I have a hard time keeping a straight face.
“So then what happened?” Tink asks, utterly invested now.
“And then nothing. We just sat there like a couple of fools, freezing our balls off for well over an hour. We knew someone would come if we knocked loud enough. We just needed a little more time for the weed to wear off, in case the person coming to our rescue was the social worker on shift. But whatever we scored was potent as fuck, because it just wasn’t getting any better.”
“Anyway,” he goes on, as Dee dabs at the corner of her eye with a napkin. “We’re still nowhere near back to normal when there’s sirens in the distance and Cole turns to me and says,‘Fuck me sideways. Please tell me they’re not coming for us.’And, sure as shit, a couple of minutes later, a fire truck pulls up right in front of our building. Turns out, the nosy, old bird next door spotted us, and instead of calling the front desk to let someone know, she went straight for the fire department. Next thing you know, a couple of firefighters are yelling up to us, asking if we’re okay. The social worker, the residents, and half the neighborhood are out to watch as they extend the aerial and help us off the roof. Never have I been more embarrassed in my life,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck and shooting Dee a sheepish grin. “We madeup some bogus story about wanting to study star constellations, but everyone knew the truth. All you had to do was look at us, and it was painfully obvious what we’d been up to. Fortunately, no one was cruel enough to call us out on our shit, considering our faces matched the color of the fire engine.” Maddox and I exchange a fond look at the memory before he wraps up the story. “Once everyone dispersed, we were sent to our rooms and told the situation would be dealt with later. And then this motherfucker over here raided the stash of snacks I kept in my sock drawer, while I took a shower to warm myself up, leaving me with nothing but soda crackers.”
I shrug. “I had the munchies. Bad. I’ve never been that blazed in my goddamn life,” I say, and Charlie giggles uncontrollably.
“Word to the wise. Never gorge yourself on soda crackers when you have cotton mouth. I kid you not. I almost choked to death, and my untimely demise would’ve been on your conscience, man.”
“Oh, stop it, you big baby,” I say, barking out a loud laugh, and Maddox’s eyes flare with glee.
“There it is. Told you I’d get that laugh out of you. Phew, that’s a relief.” He presses a hand to his chest in a theatrical display. “I’m really enjoying myself and wasn’t looking forward to ending the night digging a hole in Charlie’s backyard.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter under my breath as I rise to my feet. “I’m going to hit the can.”
