Page 15 of Snake Eyes (Out of His League #2)

Charlie

A tired breath falls from me as I contemplate my reflection in the mirror—past the REDRUM I scrawled onto it in red lipstick before the Halloween party started.

I dab at my eyes with a clean paper towel, trying to de-clump my lashes without ruining my costume makeup.

There’s no one in the Snake Eyes’ women’s restroom except me—meaning there was no one to eavesdrop on me sobbing when I was in the stall.

Well, other than the carved pumpkins on the vanity and the bat figurines on the walls.

In my last job, I would have had my breakdown in the walk-in freezer like everyone else, but while I was here, the restroom was going to have to do.

While I was here. The phrase has me about to succumb to tears all over again.

I’ve been holding them off all day, trying to lose myself in running the events. It worked through the afternoon. The kids’ events were a blast, from slime making to pumpkin painting to the costume contest, the last of which one of Mikayla’s nieces won.

As the day wore on, though, the weight of my eventual departure grew heavier .

For some reason, it hits me then that I never cried after Joey and I broke up. I cried for the loss of my plant collection. I cried because I was so angry I wanted to strangle the asshole. But not a single tear fell because the relationship was ending.

Yet this is the second time in two days I’ve shed tears because I’m having to leave Garrett. Sure, I’m upset that I’m leaving Cedar Falls too—but I’m truly devastated about saying goodbye to Garrett, especially after the spark we lit last night .

The restroom door opens, ushering in a thin haze of fog and the lively atmosphere filling the bar. I plaster my customer service smile back onto my face, hoping it doesn’t slip off and splatter onto the tiles.

Josie splits the fog as she walks through it.

Tonight, she’s dressed as Cruella de Vil—to complement Andy’s Dalmatian costume.

Her usual blonde hair is gone, hidden beneath a half-black, half-white wig.

She’s wearing a figure-hugging black dress, its deep neckline showing off her ample cleavage. Her face lights up as she sees me.

“Hi Josie.” I smile brightly, immediately flicking on the faucet and washing my hands. “You guys having a good night?”

Josie’s double take has my heart sinking. Her brows pull together in concern. “Everything okay, honey?”

I avert my gaze, pulling out another paper towel to dry my hands. “Of course!”

She doesn’t look convinced, cocking her hip against the vanity. “Your eyes…your eyes are a little red.”

“Oh, yeah.” I bob my head in agreement, like I’ve got everything under control. “I’ve been sweating and some of my makeup ran into my eyes. I’ve tried to dab it out best I can, but I don’t want to ruin my look, you know.” I gesture to myself in the mirror.

My makeup isn’t quite as pristine as it was when I started working, but it is still in place.

I’d painted white circular patches around my eyes, surrounded by a sea of russet—although there are little dots of white pigment at my temple and my cheekbones, while the bottom of my nose is painted black.

My clothes are nothing special, merely a russet-colored top and pants.

And to tie it all together, on my head sits an antlers headband, in addition to the white-and-russet tail tied around my waist. Just to make it clear that I am, indeed, dressed as a deer.

When I’d ordered the items online, I’d thought of my outfit as a flirtatious way to make Garrett and Hunter part of the costume without actually wearing costumes. Garrett, with his rifle always in hand, is the hunter. The ferocious Hunter is a bear. And I am the deer.

Now the idea just hurts.

Just put me out of my misery. It’s not like I’m already dressed for it.

“Anyways,” I say to Josie, running for the exit before she can poke holes in my excuse. “Have a good night!”

If possible, Snake Eyes is even busier than it was five minutes ago. Every single table is full. The darkened lounge area we created in front of the TV is occupied too, every seat taken by customers watching the endless stream of Halloween movies I loaded up earlier.

I sneak through the walkway between the pool table and the DIY ring toss game I made.

I’m pretty pleased with the latter; I’d spray painted some cheap traffic cones black, attached them to a piece of decorated plywood, and painted black rims around them to look like witches’ hats.

The rings being thrown are orange and purple circular glowsticks.

I added some little Halloween flairs to it here and there, but all in all it cost me less than twenty bucks.

Mist swirls around my feet as I pass the fog machine.

It sits beneath the trestle table full of food from Shane’s Diner, overseen by Snake Eyes’ resident wooden snake.

I notice we’re a little low on wings at the moment; when I have a chance, I’ll have to find Shane and help him bring over another tray.

“Any problems?” I ask Mikayla as I jog back behind the bar, slowing down when I realize just how tender I am between my thighs.

Hunter is curled up in his little nest at the end of the bar; he’s almost invisible in the shadows, but his eyes watch my every step.

Garrett, however, is nowhere to be found.

Mikayla quirks her mouth, her dark eyes giving me a knowing look. “Everything’s under control. You can have a proper break, not five minutes in the restroom. I bartended my way through college—I promise not to burn the place down.”

I let out a snort, but my answer is interrupted by a customer stepping up to the bar.

He’s closer to me than Mikayla, so I take the order.

I think he’s one of Shane’s friends from yesterday.

Or maybe one of the guys at Kurt’s garage?

He’s certainly one of Garrett’s customers—by now, I’d recognize the tiny Locke logo on his watch strap anywhere.

“I mean it,” Mikayla continues once the customer is gone, her voice kind and her gaze compassionate. “You’ve been here for, what, fourteen hours now, setting everything up and then diving straight into working?”

My nod is more of a wince .

“Go and have a proper break. You’re run off your feet, and we’re over the big rush of customers—now we’re just winding down until closing. I’ll shout if I need help. Okay?”

I give in. “Okay.” She’s not wrong, after all. I’m freaking exhausted, in more ways than she knows. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. Vaginally.

I’m just relieved we’re closed tomorrow, and I’m going to sleep away the whole day.

Tonight, though, there is something I want to do.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I do want to do this before it’s too late.

I walk down toward one of the empty shelves near Hunter’s little den.

“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I’m not coming to— god forbid —give you affection.

” Pain coils in my chest as I pick up the small pot I stashed there this morning, tightening around my heart.

“Have you seen Garrett?” I ask Mikayla, looking over the bar at the horde of customers.

Mikayla throws her thumb in the direction of the entrance. “The last I saw him was over by the picnic tables.”

“Thank you!” I grip the pot in both hands as I carefully make my way across the bar, keeping it close to my body. I try and rehearse the words in my head, but I’m not sure any amount of preparation is going to hold the tears at bay.

This half of the bar isn’t as difficult to cross, with people seated at tables rather than milling around the pool table or cheering for the ring toss.

If I’d have had more time—and more staff—I’d have drawn up a special Halloween cocktail menu, but overall, I’m thrilled with how successful today’s Halloween event has gone.

The bar’s door has been propped open to allow a stream of fresh air in, but I’m not expecting just how cold it is as I step out into the night, looking around for Garrett.

Cedar Hills’ central square is deserted this late.

Most of the businesses lining the square’s perimeter are dark, with only the convenience store and Shane’s Diner showing signs of life.

I squint.

Actually, that’s a lie. There’s a raccoon trying to get into one of the dumpsters behind the diner, scratching uselessly at the padlock. The diner itself is dark, but the kitchen window at the back throws a ray of light onto the determined animal.

The parking lot itself is filled to the brim, either because the owners are still inside the bar or because they’ve walked home. I’m about to be driven back inside by the cold when I hear muffled voices over by Garrett’s truck.

My heels beat a quick rhythm over the asphalt as I wonder what he’s doing out here. I cross over to the driver’s side, expecting to see him standing there.

But he’s not.

Instead, the voices are coming from two men getting out of the station wagon parked next to Garrett’s truck.

“I’m telling you, man,” the driver says, the slam of the car door making me wince as it breaks the night’s silence.

There’s something familiar about him—and then it hits me.

He’s the man who came into the bar on the night of the football game; the traveler who was blindsided by the Cedar Hill Motel’s renovation, same as me. “This is the one.”

I slam to a halt as the passenger steps out of the car, my hands clinging to the little pot and my jaw hitting the deck. Joey straightens, the sight of him crashing into me like a physical blow .

“Huh.” Joey gives me a double-take before sending the driver an affirming nod.

He’s barely changed since the last time I saw him, his overlong reddish-brown hair is perhaps a little longer, curling around his ears.

The only difference is he’s not surrounded by the tattered remains of my plant room. “Looks like you were right after all.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The words are almost silent, curling into wisps in the icy air.