Page 32 of Mimic

I didn’t stop her, even though I wasn’t hungry. I wouldn’t argue with her now. When Cash was out of church, I would get my keys and say my goodbyes. They couldn’t keep me here. Instead, I smiled at her and sat on the stool next to Kytten.

Johnny was behind the bar and slipped a glass in front of me. I hesitantly brought the glass to my lips, and when I tasted the sweet flavor of the Coke, and only the Coke, I looked up at him and smiled. He winked before walking away.

“Is there something going on between you and Johnny?” Kytten asked.

“What?” I asked, choking on my drink. My fingers went to my lips to catch the dribbling soda. “No.”

“How did he know what you drank?”

“Uh.” I looked at my glass and then Johnny, before turning back to Kytten. “Can I tell you a secret?” I wasn’t sure why I said that, except there was something about Kytten that felt comfortable.

“Of course.”

“When I go to the Queen’s Diamond, I usually sit at the bar next to Johnny. No one bothers you when you sit next to a biker. And well, I don’t drink. But it’s one of those things that people make a big deal about, so Grace brings me a rum and Coke, without the rum. I guess Johnny figured it out.”

“My brother doesn’t drink either,” she whispered.

“What?” That couldn’t be right. I saw him with a glass of whiskey just last week.

“Grace is really good at keeping secrets, I guess. I’ve only met her briefly, at brunch and then the day Amber left. She came in at the last minute, but didn’t stay long, but yeah, she serves him sweet tea ’cause it looks like whiskey.”

“Why doesn’t he drink?”

“Apparently, he’s allergic to it. Which is weird, ’cause I don’t have a problem with it.” She held up her margarita glass and clinked it against mine before taking a healthy drink.

“I didn’t know you could be allergic to alcohol.”

“Me either. It’s not that common. But it is genetic. So it came from one of our parents.”

“You don’t know?”

“We were kids when our mom disappeared. And we never knew our dad. To be honest, I barely know my brother. We gotseparated years ago and just found each other. I’ve been getting to know him over the last few weeks.”

“That’s why he thought I was you,” I whispered.

“What?”

I shook my head, cursing myself for my lack of control. I needed to learn to keep my thoughts inside my head.

“The first time we met, he thought I was the sister he was looking for. I thought it was weird he didn’t know who his sister was, but I guess it makes sense now.”

“It’s your hair, probably. Mine was blonde. Like blonde-blonde, when we were kids.”

“Oh, I’m not blonde.”

Shit, Indie. Shut the hell up!

“What’s your natural color?”

“It’s light brown.”

What the hell was I doing? I bit my lip and looked out at the room.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop asking questions.”

“No, it’s—”

“It’s not. I’m prying, and most of the time, I don’t even realize I’m doing it. It’s just second nature considering what I do.”