•Sequel to RUN•
𝘛𝘩𝘦
𝘑𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺
𝘞𝘢𝘴
𝘍𝘢𝘳
𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮
𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝘖𝘷𝘦𝘳
𝘈𝘯𝘥
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺
𝘞𝘦𝘳𝘦
𝘍𝘢𝘳
𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮
𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨...
𝘿𝙊𝙉𝙀
[𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑫]
Join Sydney and her friends as they continue to battle their way out of d...
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Chapter Nineteen. *******************
"And that's Big Bill." Brad said.
He stood close beside me, warm at my shoulder but careful not to crowd my crutches.
"Why's he called Big Bill?" River asked, eyeing the surprisingly average-sized man from head to toe.
"Because," One of the waitresses, Patty, called as she hurried past with a tray of glasses, "We used to have a Small Bill."
"Used to?" River asked, gulping dramatically.
"He quit." Brad said with a grin.
It was a slow night. It was mostly regulars who were scattered around the bar, the kind who nursed one drink for hours. Brad had given us the full tour of his work place when we arrived. Complete with brick walls, dark wood finishes, all complete with dim lighting that made the whole place feel warm and lived in. A few staff moved between tables, and we'd even been introduced to the kitchen where a massive chef named Eduardo had waved a spatula at us in greeting.
We'd barely stepped off the bus when the rain started.
Not a drizzle.
A full downpour.
Lightning cracked across the sky outside, thunder rolling through the street, but inside the bar it barely registered. Music hummed through the speakers, glasses clinked, people laughed. It was easy to forget the storm entirely. I hoped it would calm by the time we were ready to leave. I can't get my cast wet.
"Grab a seat," Brad said, pulling out a chair for me so I could settle in at the bar, "I'll get you something to drink. Want food?"
River dropped onto the stool beside me.
"Surprise me, cute bartender," River said with a wink to Brad, even though the question had been aimed at me.
"I'm happy with anything," I added.
Brad snorted under his breath and shook his head, clearly amused.
"Alright then," he muttered, already reaching for the shaker.
He quickly got to work behind the bar, tossing ice into the metal tin and pulling bottles down from the shelf.
River ended up with some ridiculous cocktail that required far too much shaking and garnish for a drink that neon. Brad finished it with a sprig of mint before sliding a soda toward me. I gave him an appreciate smile. We both knew I couldn't drink with the amount of medication I was on, so I was thankful for him having gotten me something light.
We ordered food and settled at the bar while Brad moved between serving customers and talking with us whenever he had a spare second.
