Page 47 of X's and O's

The fact my bedroom floor had not turned into a sinkhole that was sucking me down into oblivion seemed very unfair. “You’re killing me, X! Get. Out!”

“Fine, fine. Just one more question.”

“Oh my God. What?” I shouted back to him.

He stuck his head around the corner and gave me a wolfish grin. “Scale of one to ten. How mad would you be if I licked this thing like a lollipop?”

I widened my eyes.

He winked at me and tossed it back onto my bed. “Okay, love you!”

Then he trotted out of my apartment like whatever the hell had just happened was the most normal thing in the world.

I had no idea whether I was flattered, terrified, or just really damn turned on.

13

VIOLET

Francine handed me the schedule for the week on a white piece of paper, and a sympathetic smile to go along with it. “Sorry. Not much on this week. Could only give you a few shifts. If anything else comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

I sighed. This much work wasn’t even going to be enough to pay my rent for the week.

I thanked her, because that was the polite thing to do, and left the building. On the outside, one of the other cleaners, a skinny white dude named Jeremy, who Francine clearly liked more than me since he had a full week’s worth of cleans on his card, caught my hand.

“Hey, if you need some extra work, I saw the bar across the road needs someone. You might check in with them.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Thanks.”

I definitely needed the extra work if I wanted to eat this week.

He nodded. “You’re welcome. I just hope you’ll stay onwith Francine too. Lyle and I end up with too much work every time someone quits. Francine went through so many girls before you came along.” He smiled at me. “Would be great if you stuck around so we didn’t have to train any more newbies.”

I nodded. “I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’m happy to work. But I will go ask about that job at the bar. Thank you. Have a good day.”

We split up, him heading toward his car. Me checking the street for traffic and then crossing it.

The psychotic clown with the sharp teeth stared down at me.

“You are very creepy,” I whispered to it as I pulled the door open and walked in.

Creepy Clown, thankfully, said nothing in return.

The inside of Psychos was dim. Grimy windows lined the far side of the room, but not a lot of their light reached where I stood. It was a typical dive bar, with big screen TVs for watching sport, a couple of pool tables, chairs, and of course, a bar.

The place was empty, which I supposed wasn’t terribly unusual for nine in the morning. But there were voices from a room behind the bar.

“Hello?” I called out.

The person who stuck his head out was the absolute last person I wanted to see.

“Violet?”

I backed up so fast I knocked over a chair. Embarrassment about the last time we’d seen each other crashed down over me like a wave.

Followed by a healthy dose of straight-up fear.

This man was literally as insane as the clown on thewall outside. I picked up a napkin dispenser from the table and hurled it at his head.