Shadow

Chapter 14 - On the Edge of Madness

'Another one?' the bartender asked, cleaning out the inside of the glass he held in his hand. He was young, mid-twenties, hair slicked back, biceps sticking out the usual white uniform, and around his collar was a black bow-tie.

Richie stared into his glass full of ice cubes with little to no liquor. An empty bottle of Budweiser stood by its side. He shook the glass, and the cubes clonked against each other. He gave a nod, the bartender understood and with a friendly smile, took the empty glass away.

Many thoughts ran through his mind since he escaped from Jimmy's clutches and the fact that he was so close to death today than he had been in years. His nose still throbbed in pain, but luckily for him, it was not broken. He was kicking himself in how stupid he had been; how couldn't he have seen through that charade? And that girl a pawn in Jimmy's twisted game just to get to him?

Two-faced little bitch, he thought. He's probably mounting her right now. I bet Rachel wouldn't like that.

The bartender finished wiping his glass, then turned behind and opened the see-through fridge containing an army of alcoholic drinks. He pulled out another bottle of Budweiser and put it on the table in front of Richie, alongside with a new glass full of ice cubes.

Hell of a kisser, though. Gotta give her that.

'Rough night?' the bartender asked.

Richie poured the drink into the new glass. The drink fizzled as the ice slowly started to melt. 'You could say that,' he replied.

'Well, if you need anything else, give me a holler. The name is Jesse.'

'Yeah,' he said in a dull tone, barely noticing the bartender's sincere smile. He was conflicted about the events of tonight, and every single time he thought about that girl and Jimmy, his rage kept building up, and when it did, he would take a drink from his glass to calm down his nerves. It would work, for a few seconds or so, then he'd be back to feeling the same way again. He wanted to get drunk, but what good would that do? And what if he were to go home afterward? Jimmy knew where he lived now. Of course, he knew, Harry was his friend, and Harry was a man who knew everybody and everything in Vegas.

There was no way of getting around that.

He took a drink and scanned around the room, taking in the sights of the bar. There were a few people sitting at the bar conversing indistinctly around him. It had been a good few years since he visited The Laundry Room — the secret bar inside Commonwealth. When he arrived, he noticed the first-floor bar was not as crowded as he remembered. He was greeted by Susan, a blonde, petite young lady (maybe in her twenties, Richie had thought) who ushered him in and reminded him of the rules, such as no loud talking, photography or make a call on the cellphone.

The actual room was fairly small in a 1930s decor; it was decorated in an interesting manner with period pieces but wasn't overdone with every square inch of the walls covered. Since it used to be an actual working laundry room, the business cards were small clothespins. The drinks itself wasn't overpriced either; fifteen dollars each (which included sales tax).

There were seven seats at the bar and probably room for even triple that either at tables or stools along the wall. There were nine people there altogether and four empty seats at the bar. Susan gave him a choice of a table or a seat at the bar, and since he was alone, and did not want any company, he opted for the bar. She had even offered him a bowl of cookies and cream popcorn (regular was also available) in which he declined. He was in no mood for snacking; he was in the mood for some drinking.