Andi King didn't know how to play nice, because quite frankly, she didn't like people. She was a loner and that was how she liked it. Especially with a sadistic demon dead set on destroying her and anyone she got close to.
But that all changes when...
"Can't hear what your shouting. I'm deaf to your show It's easy to lose your self-control."
In Between by Beartooth
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Colorado air nipped at my cheeks as I walked through the lot of the local bar. The moon was out, hidden behind the trees, leaving the neon signs the only light to guide my way.
My own personal compass pointing me in the direction of what I really needed.
A stiff drink.
The heavy door slammed shut behind me, but no one turned. The music was far too loud and the crowd too rowdy to notice the new arrival, and for that, I was grateful. I was invisible here. Aside from the blond woman behind the bar who had served me last night, no one seemed to care as I lingered in the doorway.
My gaze fell to the bulletin board yet again. The last time I had been up this way, it was covered with nothing but business cards and lost animals, but this time I couldn't pull my eyes away from the handsome deputy whose body Dean buried beneath a random bridge in Chicago. His blue eyes seemed to follow me as I took a step forward, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat as I finally learned his name.
David Watson.
I wanted to run my fingers across his strong jaw, but looking at it for too long - let alone touching the flier was dangerous. I may have been invisible in this backwoods bar, but the man on the wall was not. People were looking for him, and I didn't want to be found in the process.
"Whiskey?"
I nodded to the bartender as I sat down on a stool. My eyes followed the faces that lined the countertop, hoping to find someone to occupy my mind for a short while, but as my prospects aged out, I found myself staring at the small television on the other side of the bar where a body was being wheeled out of the log cabin behind the news reporter.
"Can you turn that up?" I asked, slinging back the glass in one swallow.
"I'd love to, hun," she said, pouring me another, "but people come here to escape the bad shit, not dwell on it."
I nodded, glancing behind me to take in the crowd. Smiles. Laughter. It was like they were in their own little neon-lit world - playing pool, taking shots, and kissing strangers. Of course, they wouldn't want to hear about someone dying. It probably took everything in them to ignore the missing poster of the deputy on the way in.
"What about you?" I asked her. "Any idea what happened?"
The bartender shrugged and glanced back at the television. "I try not to pay attention anymore. So much bad shit going on in the world these days. I can't keep up. And by the looks of it, I don't think I want to."
