by H. M Reilly
Gravel crunched beneath her tires when she pulled into her grandparents’ driveway, parking beside their old minivan. The sun poured through the front windows, and Jack lay splayed out across the floor of the front hallway. She stepped over him and into the living room where her grandparents sat enjoying the quiet afternoon. Her grandfather lounged in his recliner, clutching the remote in one hand as an old western played on the television. A pile of purple yarn sat beside her grandmother as a pair of knitting hooks clicked between her fingers with ease.
“Good afternoon, my dear.”
“Hey, Grandma.”
“I noticed you were out of the house today. Did you have a good day out?”
“Yeah. I did. Had lunch, and I got myself a job over at the tavern.”
“Oh, that’s great! Do you know when you start?”
“I go in tomorrow morning.”
“That is wonderful, my dear.”
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good,” she said. “If you’re hungry, there is green chile stew on the stove. It should still be warm.”
“That sounds great.” The warm smells of green chile stew filled the air as she entered the kitchen. After dinner, she brought in a pile of wood for a fire. Dusk fell quickly as the cold settled into the mountains, shadows growing deeper as twilight faded. Dark clouds hovered over the jagged peaks of the mountains as the wind blew through the trees.
When she went inside, she took her time making a fire, twisting pieces of newspaper and laying logs. A few cracks and pops later, a spark caught, and the flames quickly grew. She sat and watched the fire growing until it roared in the hearth. She joined her grandparents for a movie, but with the fire warming the living room, her eyes grew heavy, so she went upstairs for the night.
Once upstairs, she turned on the small tube television sitting on the dresser. The Broncos game was already late in the third quarter, and the game was tied, but crawling into bed, she found the sound of the crowd and quarterback yells soothing. The sound erupted briefly as the opposing team scored a touchdown, and she drifted to sleep.
When she woke the next morning, she found Jack lying close by on her pillows. She lifted her bleary gaze towards the bedroom window only to see the dark was just starting to give way to the first light of dawn. The colors in the sky paled, fading from the deepest blues of the night sky as the sun rose gradually over the horizon. She lay there, petting Jack, and before long, she could hear his vibrating purrs. She didn’t rise until the alarm clock on her phone buzzed across the side table.
The scent of coffee led her to the kitchen, and she grabbed herself a cup of fresh java. Her grandfather sat at the table with his newspaper open and a cup of coffee that smelled of hazelnut. A few times, he glanced over at her to tell her about the liberal politicians and their ridiculous ideas. By the time her grandmother emerged to make breakfast, he switched over to the comic section with a flip of the page as if he already had the page marked. Her grandmother grabbed herself a cup of coffee to join them.
Charlotte rose as her grandmother went over to the stove to ready breakfast for the morning. Bacon sizzled as she headed up the stairs to get ready for work. She didn’t take long, and she even had enough time to stop for a quick breakfast from the nearby drive-thru.
When she pulled into the tavern parking lot, another truck already sat parked near the back door. She grabbed her things and headed to the door. Troy answered when she knocked, and she followed him inside. He led her through the back area of the tavern and showed her where they stored the alcohol and cases of beer. The food was stored in a different area. He also took the time to explain to her where they kept the coffee and where she could keep her personal belongings during the day. He stepped into the hallway once again and flipped on a couple of light switches as he made his way down the hall.
After a tour of the building, Troy explained the bookkeeping processes and what her duties would be as a waitress. Troy would help when he could as the tavern was short-staffed since the last of the summer crew left for college in the big city. He hoped to hire two more waitresses within the next week or two. Bryan opened today, and she would meet the other line cooks, Chris and Nelson, before long.
“And of course, if you have any questions at all, don’t be afraid to ask me or any of the others,” he said. Troy then disappeared into the office and came back with a small stack of papers in hand for her to fill out. As she completed the forms, he headed into the kitchen to ready himself for the day.
The back door opened, and a blonde frizzy-haired woman stepped inside. She was at least ten years older than Charlotte and wore red lipstick on her smile. A brown purse smeared with what appeared to be paint hung over her shoulder. “Hey, doll, I’m Lucy. The only other waitress right now. You ready to learn today?”
CHAPTER 6
It didn’t take long for Charlotte to learn her duties at the tavern with Lucy teaching her the ropes. Bryan butted in a few times to help, especially when it came to his kitchen, and before long, she felt comfortable and confident at work. She even enjoyed meeting the many different people who came through the doors, some only passing through town. She even came across a few musicians on their way to Hollywood with dreams of changing the music industry.
One quiet night at the tavern, Troy left early to handle a family emergency, leaving Bryan and Charlotte alone to finish up for the night. Charlotte filled the salt and pepper shakers as Bryan sang in the kitchen. She heard his voice over the music playing from the stereo speakers. Thankfully, the man sitting at the bar hardly said a word, let alone complained about Bryan's singing. He quietly ate the last of the fries sitting at the bottom of the greasy basket.
The front door opened, and Charlotte glanced over her shoulder as she finished screwing on one of the saltshaker tops. A familiar face walked through the front door, and she turned away, hiding a smile. Bryan's cousin. She couldn’t remember his name, but she found him very attractive with his lip piercing, tattoos, and dark hair. She gathered the large can of salt and carried it over to the bar as she heard him approach.
“Hey, gorgeous. Bryan still here?”
“Yeah. He’s back in the kitchen, but he’s busy.”
“Sure, he is.”
She watched him as he strolled down towards the back hall. An abrupt burst of commotion erupted over the music as the two greeted each other in their usual excitable, profane way that faded into a low murmur of noise. The man sitting at the bar caught her attention, and she fetched another beer at his request. There was still some time before closing, but she stepped down the hall to get the mop and broom, ready to finish cleaning.
“You can be a fuckin’ dick, Bryan,” Charlotte overheard her co-worker’s cousin say as she passed the kitchen. She made her way to the front room, carrying the broom and dustpan with her. The dining area was empty and quiet except for the music playing from the speakers. She cleared the last of the dirty dishes sitting on the bar and rang up the ticket with the cash the man at the bar had left, pocketing the change.
Suddenly, Bryan's cousin stepped up to the counter as she grabbed a register sheet, placing it on the counter. She lifted her eyes and grinned. "We are closing very soon, but is there something I can do for you?"
“You don’t remember me?”
“Ah. I’m sorry. I’m very bad with names,” she said. She kept her eyes on him as she met his dark eyes.
“It happens. Charlotte, right?” She only nodded in response as she took the pen from the top of the register and started to fill out the top of the sheet. “I’m Michael. Bryan’s cousin.”
“That’s right. Michael.” She barely lifted her eyes to his before returning to the sheet in front of her. “If you're not looking to order anything, I have work to do.”
“Well, what’re you doing after work?” Charlotte placed the sheet aside and went to grab the broom, biting her lower lip. She forced herself to walk away, knowing she wanted more of his attention. Months had passed since she last had sex, bu
t she wasn’t mentally or emotionally ready for any love games. Bryan exited the kitchen, making his way up the hallway.
“Hey, fucker. We gotta close up. I’ll see you in the back when I’m done,” Bryan said. She continued sweeping the floors as Bryan attempted to get Michael out of the building. He finally succeeded after several shoves. The door clicked in place when he locked up. “Sorry he was bothering you, Charlotte.”
“He wasn’t really bothering me,” she said. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder as Bryan disappeared down the hallway again to finish in the kitchen. A moment later, the music turned up, almost bumping through the speakers.
She was just about done placing the chairs on top of the tables when Bryan appeared again, pushing the mop bucket ahead of him, water spilling over the edge. Steam rose from the bucket of soapy water. As Bryan readied the mop, spilling more water on the floor, Charlotte stepped behind the register to count the register and finish the paperwork for the night. Bryan mopped his way from the dining room right through the kitchen.
Charlotte went to the back office to stash the paperwork and deposit before heading out the back door. As she waited outside for Bryan, she noticed Michael waiting beneath the overhead parking lot light. He stood beside a small black truck with a cigarette between his lips. A breeze slipped through the parking lot, and goosebumps rose on her bare arms.
The lights inside went off, and a couple more lights turned on in the fenced parking area. Bryan came outside, locking the door behind him. “See ya, Charlotte.”
“Night, Bryan,” she said. She crossed the parking lot to her truck parked beneath a tree hanging over the fence. A few yellowed leaves fell as another gust of chilly wind curled through the air. The night wasn't too particularly cold, but as soon as she could, she turned up the heat in her truck to warm herself up. She heard Michael yell out for her to have a good night when she pulled out of the parking lot to head home.
The pungent odors of fried food and cigarette smoke on her clothes became much more apparent the moment she walked through the front door at her grandparents’ house. She slipped out of her shoes, leaving them by the door before going upstairs to her room. Her grandparents’ bedroom door was closed, and she could hear one of them snoring softly. She undressed quickly, changing into a set of pajamas. As soon as she hit the pillows, she was out for the night.
Michael appeared in the tavern a few days later when Charlotte was working the lunch shift, training a new waitress. He sat at the bar and ordered himself a beer and a basket of assorted fried food with a side of ranch. People came and went throughout the day, keeping Charlotte and her co-workers busy, so she didn’t even notice when Michael left.
When she stepped out of the back door late that afternoon, a dark, hooded figure stood by the fence, just at the edge of the light. Her heart raced in her chest. She contemplated going back in but walked across the lot to her truck. The doors locked immediately when she slipped the key into the ignition and started up the engine.
The temperature in the cab was starting to warm up when she finally shifted into reverse. With a glance in her rearview mirror, she didn’t notice the dark figure walking up to her car right away. A cigarette sat between a pair of lips with a brightly burning cherry. The cherry grew brighter as he approached the truck. She took a moment to catch her breath before rolling down the window just enough to speak. “Michael? What are you doing out here?”
“I was waiting to talk to you.”
“You had all day. I saw you inside earlier.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said as he flicked the ash from his cigarette, smoke billowing into the air. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out to the bar with me tonight?” A tuft of Michael’s brown hair flipped against his ear as the breeze blew past. He wore a knit cap on his head, his hand tucked into his pockets. Charlotte could feel the cold settling into the air.
“Tonight?”
“I mean, if you don’t wanna go out with me…” He lowered his eyes.
“But where? There’s nothing out here.”
“Wanna follow me into the city?”
“Um...sure.”
“Yeah? Cool. I’m gonna go jump in my car,” he said. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath the heel of his shoe before crossing the parking lot to his car. Charlotte put her truck into park and waited. When he pulled out of the parking lot, she followed him out to the highway.
Michael drove faster than the speed limit, and Charlotte struggled to keep up in her older truck. A moment later, her phone rang from the side pocket of her purse. She reached over to grab her phone, and without a second glance, brought the phone to her ear.
“Try not to lose me,” Michael said on the other end of the line. She didn’t remember giving Michael her number and didn't think she had. She glanced at her phone screen to see an icon on his face on the screen. He’d added her to his friends; that, she remembered. Stupid social media apps.
“I’m right behind you, Michael.”
“Mmkay. Turn at the first exit in Sequoia. I’ll call you back.”
She pushed her foot down harder on the gas, then reached over and cranked up the volume on the stereo until music bumped through the speakers. A low rumble growled in the sky. A cluster of heavy dark clouds floated toward the mountains as she came up to a red light. She glanced around, but she didn’t see Michael's little car anywhere. Again, her phone rang. “Hello?”
“I lost ya. Where you at?”
“Uhh…” She looked out the window just as the light turned green. “Mahoney?”
“Ah, okay. You aren’t that far behind.”
“Where…do I go then?”
“Just keep going towards the mountains. You see it?”
“Um, no. I don’t know what I’m looking for, Michael.” She kept her eyes on the road, still not sure where she was going, but she made a right turn, following his directions, and drove toward the mountains. The neighborhoods of residential homes started to thin out, but several businesses took their place. Warehouses and shops appeared along the road. She even passed a train track.
Another set of lights glowed off on the horizon, sitting at the base of the mountains. There was an energy humming around her that only thickened when she cracked the window – an energy she’d never felt before. The further she drove, the thicker the air felt around her.
She came to the end of a country road and made another turn, following Michael’s directions. The building didn't look too impressive with white siding and black shingles. In fact, it looked more like a storage warehouse than a bar, but she continued forward on the path Michael directed her on. The energy continued to hum in the air, growing thicker.
She parked beside Michael’s car and killed the engine. When she hopped down, she lifted her amber gaze towards the building standing under the shadows of the mountain. A small sign with bright white lights and dark red letters hung over the door. ‘Viper’s Cavern.’ She grabbed her leather jacket before locking up her truck and slipping her keys into her purse.
“Charlotte.”
“It’s cold out here tonight.” She turned towards Michael and took a few steps in his direction as she pulled on her jacket. Her breath misted in the air.
“Nah. Just wait until winter,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”
The front door creaked on old hinges as they stepped inside. The front room was large, dark, and bare except for a glowing red light on the other end of the room. That thick energy she felt driving on the road hung in the air, almost suffocating, but the feeling passed before long. When they stepped up to the door on the far side, a big, tall man with a scar across his face stopped them in their tracks. “I need to see some identification.”
Charlotte pulled her wallet out and handed her driver’s license over. The bouncer took a long, hard look at before handing it back. He waved them to the door as it opened slowly. She took Michael’s hand and looked up at him with a quirked brow, leaning in closer. “Where the hell did you take
me?”
“You’ll see.” He smirked, squeezing her hand as he led her through the threshold. The landing was short before the corridor led them away. The hall took a sharp turn and sloped, and a dark crimson light enveloped them as they approached a set of stairs. The stairs led them further down into the basement. Vibrations seeped through the walls, music floating up to their ears from a lower floor.
They stopped at the bottom of the stairs as the room opened wide before them, and Charlotte glanced around. The large cavernous room was washed in the same crimson light that lit the stairwell behind them, touching every corner. Black sconces were mounted on the walls at intervals, tall candelabras fixed on the floors. Several small flames flickered through the room, scattering erratic patterns of light across the floor. Wax dripped from the brims and dropped on the floor to old piles of wax. Several tables and chairs made of a dark wood occupied the room. A handful of booths with crimson seats were gathered in the far corners. A small stage stood in the corner not far from a bar.
A couple dozen people occupied the room. Some held their drinks closely, another handful were scattered across the dance floor where the scent of lust was unmistakable in multiple forms. Some things appeared to be a trick of the light, but the tinge of blood in the air was unmistakable. For a moment, she wondered if Michael had taken her to a sex bar and debated turning back up the stairs until a voice came over the speakers.
“Introducing the Black Thorns!” In the far corner of the room, a few people stepped out on to the stage, carrying instruments with them.
“Where are we, Michael?” she said. Michael turned and glanced at her with a smile. He gripped her hand and led her to the other side of the room, passing the dance floor. She quirked a brow but followed him toward a table near the bar.
Music pumped through the speakers as the first few notes vibrated from the strings of a bass. The beat of the music pulsed and echoed through the room, enveloping her with the escalation. The music grew louder as the excitement in the crowd reached orgasmic proportions. She glanced over her shoulder, her long locks falling down her back. The band started to gyrate and move to the pulse of the music. Suddenly, Michael stopped again, and she nearly ran into him.